Have I ever mentioned that I do not love new things when they first come into my house? It's become something of a joke around here, and now my husband won't even ask about something new for several days at least. He's been on that roller coaster too many times. Because, in all honesty, saying I "do not love" new things that come into my house is something of an understatement, and for the first 24 hours at least, I hate them.
Weirdly, when the pillow arrived, in polka dot packaging tied up with string (did you sing that to the tune of My Favorite Things? You should have), I was ambivalent. I put in the down pillow insert that was staring blankly from the couch, tried it in a few spots, and walked away with no hate in my heart. But perhaps no love, either.
But now it makes me happy, and mostly for unexpected reasons. I love the way white has become a legitimate element in both the living and dining rooms, and this pillow pushed it over the edge. I love the way the scale and the pattern picks up on the dining room rug, a side effect I had not anticipated (after this analysis, who knew there could be any more to think about?) And mostly, I love the way the tones are bright and rich, but they don't scream. I had originally chosen this duralee fabric for throw pillows in here, but ultimately decided the colors felt too hot in the room. Plus the zipper foot on my sewing machine pushed the fabric through backwards, and I've been too lazy to get the thing serviced. I'm back to thinking the fabric could work in a smaller dose in the guest room (if you click through to this post, scroll down for the image), but then there's the sewing machine issue again. We'll see.
Um. That's a lot of words and analysis of one pillow. People. Are we crazy? I think it might not be normal to devote this kind of time, energy, and attention to a throw pillow. Please advise. By which I mean reassure.
Here comes the week.
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