My Modern Farmhouse Bathroom is Neither Modern Nor a Farmhouse. Discuss. (Part Two)
So if you didn't read Part One, well, you're missing out. Just kidding, you for sure have better things to do. And anyway I'm just going to summarize it for you here because I am that nice.
Using the Barr Memo: Mueller Report ratio, here is the summary of Part One:
WGTIW
Because I am more helpful than Bill Barr (or is it Bob Barr? I'm just going to call him Billy Bob Barr), I'll tell you that WGTIW stands for, "White glass tile isn't white." Which is the main takeaway from Part One. But actually I hadn't discovered that yet in Part One. But I bought white glass tile thinking it was white. That's where we left off. Also the President is a peach of a guy who also thought he was buying white tile and instead got a Russian attack on our democracy and justice just begging to be obstructed. Poor guy.
I bought a bunch of other stuff to go with the supposedly white tile in order to create the Modern Farmhouse look. I bought a rustic, reclaimed wood vanity with a marble top. I bought rustic reclaimed wood mirrors and towel rack. I bought oil-rubbed bronze everything. I bought grey penny tile for the shower floor and black and white painted cement tile for the ledge by the tub. The walls would be light gray. I planned to hang a bunch of black and white art. I was particularly excited about this because I had found various items--posters, wooden plaques--with lyrics from our favorite songs, some from our wedding. It was going to be amazing, and Joanna and Chip would invite me on their show. I would say no, thank you, I don't like you, really, and I'd rather watch House Hunters International. Or maybe I would say yes and pretend to like them because I have no real principles when it comes to most celebrities.
The guys started the renovation. On day two, they began to put up the tile. I peaked in and thought to myself, "Hmm, that tile looks a little blue-green. It doesn't look white. But it is white. I'm sure it's just the lighting." I was in blissful denial. Same with day three, four, until they had all the tile up and grouted. I looked in and thought, "Nope, still doesn't look white. Which is strange because it is white, it is. I bought white tile, therefore it is white. I'm sure once they paint the ceiling it will magically turn the brightest of whites." They painted everything, and nope, it still didn't look white even though it was white. I thought, "When they get the vanity in and all the oil-bronze stuff everywhere, it's going to look white, because it is white. It doesn't want to reveal all it's whiteness until everything is ready." Then they put in the vanity and all the things.
At this point, I had to face facts. Well, I guess I didn't HAVE to. I could go on pretending that my shower was tiled with white glass tile even though it clearly was not. When people looked at my bathroom, I could go on and on about how white the tile is and doesn't it sparkle like snow and go so well with all the other stuff in the bathroom that was purchased to go with white tile. When anyone pointed out that, actually, my tile was not white, anyone could see that, I could just say it again, louder this time. If they continued to insist that my tile was not white, I could ask them why were they accusing me of buying non-white tile when they were the ones who had bought tile that wasn't white and also that marauding bands of immigrants were destroying our country while they were worried about the whiteness of my tile. How. Dare. They. Also, the economy is doing very well as a result of my tile purchase so everything else I say and do is unassailable. EVERYTHING IS FINE AND WHITE AND NORMAL AND MODERN AND FARMHOUSE-LIKE AND DEMOCRATIC.
Sadly, I've never been very good at pretending things are what they are not (I know, hard to believe). This is, incidentally, a trait that continues to get me into a fair amount of trouble on a somewhat regular basis. In this case, I was forced to admit to myself and, worse, to Kevin, who had so trustingly delegated all the design decisions to me, that I had screwed up and had in fact spent a ridiculous amount of money creating a bathroom with a personality disorder. We had a rustic, Modern Farmhouse bathroom with a sleek spa-looking shower, tiled with sea foam-colored glass tile. Both of them were beautiful, they just were too different to be happy together, like Taylor Swift and any of Taylor Swift's boyfriends.
Now, let me allow that in the grand scheme of human pain and suffering, or even just minor mishaps, a disjointed bathroom design is about on par with Obama's tan suit or anything in Taylor Swift's life. Honestly, the temporary closure of the Taco Bell near my house is a bigger deal in real terms (Let me tell you, that one is a BFD). Still, the bathroom was wrong, and DIY activism was needed, maybe even some crafting.
Oh yes, crafting. Things were about to get real.
Using the Barr Memo: Mueller Report ratio, here is the summary of Part One:
WGTIW
Because I am more helpful than Bill Barr (or is it Bob Barr? I'm just going to call him Billy Bob Barr), I'll tell you that WGTIW stands for, "White glass tile isn't white." Which is the main takeaway from Part One. But actually I hadn't discovered that yet in Part One. But I bought white glass tile thinking it was white. That's where we left off. Also the President is a peach of a guy who also thought he was buying white tile and instead got a Russian attack on our democracy and justice just begging to be obstructed. Poor guy.
I bought a bunch of other stuff to go with the supposedly white tile in order to create the Modern Farmhouse look. I bought a rustic, reclaimed wood vanity with a marble top. I bought rustic reclaimed wood mirrors and towel rack. I bought oil-rubbed bronze everything. I bought grey penny tile for the shower floor and black and white painted cement tile for the ledge by the tub. The walls would be light gray. I planned to hang a bunch of black and white art. I was particularly excited about this because I had found various items--posters, wooden plaques--with lyrics from our favorite songs, some from our wedding. It was going to be amazing, and Joanna and Chip would invite me on their show. I would say no, thank you, I don't like you, really, and I'd rather watch House Hunters International. Or maybe I would say yes and pretend to like them because I have no real principles when it comes to most celebrities.
The guys started the renovation. On day two, they began to put up the tile. I peaked in and thought to myself, "Hmm, that tile looks a little blue-green. It doesn't look white. But it is white. I'm sure it's just the lighting." I was in blissful denial. Same with day three, four, until they had all the tile up and grouted. I looked in and thought, "Nope, still doesn't look white. Which is strange because it is white, it is. I bought white tile, therefore it is white. I'm sure once they paint the ceiling it will magically turn the brightest of whites." They painted everything, and nope, it still didn't look white even though it was white. I thought, "When they get the vanity in and all the oil-bronze stuff everywhere, it's going to look white, because it is white. It doesn't want to reveal all it's whiteness until everything is ready." Then they put in the vanity and all the things.
At this point, I had to face facts. Well, I guess I didn't HAVE to. I could go on pretending that my shower was tiled with white glass tile even though it clearly was not. When people looked at my bathroom, I could go on and on about how white the tile is and doesn't it sparkle like snow and go so well with all the other stuff in the bathroom that was purchased to go with white tile. When anyone pointed out that, actually, my tile was not white, anyone could see that, I could just say it again, louder this time. If they continued to insist that my tile was not white, I could ask them why were they accusing me of buying non-white tile when they were the ones who had bought tile that wasn't white and also that marauding bands of immigrants were destroying our country while they were worried about the whiteness of my tile. How. Dare. They. Also, the economy is doing very well as a result of my tile purchase so everything else I say and do is unassailable. EVERYTHING IS FINE AND WHITE AND NORMAL AND MODERN AND FARMHOUSE-LIKE AND DEMOCRATIC.
Sadly, I've never been very good at pretending things are what they are not (I know, hard to believe). This is, incidentally, a trait that continues to get me into a fair amount of trouble on a somewhat regular basis. In this case, I was forced to admit to myself and, worse, to Kevin, who had so trustingly delegated all the design decisions to me, that I had screwed up and had in fact spent a ridiculous amount of money creating a bathroom with a personality disorder. We had a rustic, Modern Farmhouse bathroom with a sleek spa-looking shower, tiled with sea foam-colored glass tile. Both of them were beautiful, they just were too different to be happy together, like Taylor Swift and any of Taylor Swift's boyfriends.
 |
| The blue-green aura you perceive coming out of the shower is just the energy the tile is emitting while it becomes white. |
Oh yes, crafting. Things were about to get real.
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