I believe everyone truly has a bit of homebody in them. Even the most energetic party girl needs downtime every now and then. For the perpetual Netflix-on-the-couch gal to those who just need to make the most of her infrequent nights in, these gift ideas can suit anyone who enjoys where they live. From indulgent coasters and gilded untensils that makes even take-out feel like a special affair, to wooly slippers that have changeable, outdoor-friendly soles, these are the makings of a happy home life. Think Danish Hygge - that untranslatable feeling of coziness complete with candles, couch cuddles and great company - because who wouldn't love that? People draping those sheepskins all over their furniture were really onto something...

01. Chipper Things Should I Wash My Hair Today? Flowchart | 02. Skandinavisk Hygge candle 

03. Click & Grow Smart Herb Garden | 04. Vika Sky serving utensils | 05. Rosanna Booze decanter

06. Jonathan Adler Malachite coasters | 07. Klippan lapp blanket | 08. IKEA sheepskin  

09. Mahabis classic slipper | 10. L.L. Bean plush-lined robe

The silver lining to my celiac diagnosis a few months back was that it kicked our kitchen projects into gear. Since our home budget was going towards replacing all our kitchen items that could be contaminated with gluten - everything from cooking utensils to anything with a non-stick coating to all my bakeware - we figured we would just focus on the whole room and finally get it done. We had the basics in place, like bottom cabinets and our larger appliances, from our major Ikea kitchen design at move-in, but there were still many things left un-done.

Unexpectedly buying all new cookware and appliances meant the cost to finish the rest - mainly wall storage and lighting - had to be kept in check. I decided I could live without fancier lighting fixtures and forgo the pricey solid stainless shelves I had wanted, so we headed back to none other than Ikea for the rest. Instead of the EKBY shelves, we got the bargain GRUNDTAL for our plates and bowls, which also conveniently allows for hooks to hang pans and strainers on. For smaller glassware, we used a combination of GRUNDTAL pieces - rods, hooks and wine glass racks - and a LIMHAMN shelf for drinking glasses that satisfied my craving for a solid stainless steel shelf at a reasonable price. Finally putting together the incredible 30€-a-piece UDDEN upper cabinets (now discontinued, I believe) we had bought months earlier and mounting them on the far ends of the main wall helped anchor the space, not to mention gives us some place to throw more cluttered items that we can keep out of sight.



My beloved knock-off string shelves (scored on a Monoqi flash sale) on the opposite wall were put up with the plans of displaying food stuffs in glass jars to inspire cooking from scratch, so I finally got around to adding the Weck glass I'd been coveting to my collection of Ikea jars for convenient storage. I was smitten since the first time I was served Müsli in one of those adorably glass-lidded, strawberry-logoed little gems one brunch back in Wiesbaden. Even better, I since discovered that, conveniently living in the country that Weck glass hails from, it can be ordered directly from the manufacturer at a fraction of the cost it is in stores or on Amazon. So I bought a few different-sized sets, all with the same size opening for mix-and-match tops, along with glass and Tupperware-like lids. Now they act as display, storage and leftover containers in the fridge, and the smaller ones are even the perfect size for yogurt or dessert bowls. I can't recommend these seriously hard-working multi-tasking containers enough.



The pantry - which we are incredibly lucky to have in Europe, land of almost no built-in storage - worked out just fine with a combination of old shelves that we had brought with us from the States and from our previous apartment, including high storage above the door. In my dreams, there would be clean, coordinated built-in shelves all the way around, but there are realities to accept (1) when you rent, and (2) when you are an expat that may decide to move to another country on a whim, which makes such permanent investments frivolous, at best. We have plenty of space for food, dishes and cleaning supplies in there, which is more than good enough for me.



Finishing touches like lighting and other decor proved easier and more affordable than originally planned. I stopped fighting the aversion to all-things Ikea and decided on the RANARP fixtures, which I love and already have small wall-mounted ones above our bathroom sink. The gold accents and black-and-white knit cords add just enough special detail to elevate these from just another cheap fixture to something clean, modern and worthy of a more design-oriented look (they're also on serious special right now at Ikea Germany through mid-November!). Going from one fixture to two in this window-less room has made all the difference in the world. A small but impactful detail was the addition of Instagram magnets (via Sticky9) on the fridge. They are fantastic for getting all those Instagrams that sit virtually on your smartphone into real, tactile life while making a uniform and organised display out of something personal. I must say for the price I was expecting a bit more substantial magnets with crisper image quality, but as someone who is hardly crafty enough for DIY and with its generous three-for-two set deal a few months back, it was definitely worth it to bring colorful pops to an otherwise black and white room.





It's also worth noting that the extra large, stainless steel sink I had my heart set on back when we fist designed our kitchen, the one that every single Ikea employee who helped us fought me on because of the concessions it meant for the rest of cabinetry to be built around it, remains one of my favorite parts about our kitchen. It's deep enough to not have to do dishes the minute they get dirty without that pesky pile-up around the sink (OK, not usually) and the extra-wide cabinet below perfectly houses all our recycling bins (German are serious about recycling - I've even heard you can be fined for doing it wrong), keeping them organized and out of sight. The only small complaint I have is for the heavy-duty faucet I chose, which while convenient and damn gorgeous, sits a bit too high above the sink and often ends up spattering my counters with water profusely when I wash dishes.

As always, I still feel there are little tweaks I'd like to do - more graphic neutral-colored linens, nicer lighting in the pantry, some under cabinet lighting for better food preparation and photography, and perhaps some framed art for the black wall - but at least now there is enough lighting that I won't unintentionally chop off a finger mistaking it for a carrot and a place to put most of our things. It's taken a bit longer than I'd like, but having a finished space that I designed myself (hooray for higher counters and cabinets for us tallies!) where I will be spending a lot of time working on my new life of gluten-free cooking makes me seriously happy, not to mention feeling even more at home.

Coming from the US, trying to create a home in Germany is hard. The whole install-your-own-kitchen (and lighting and window coverings and bathroom cabinets...) way of doing things can be a shock to an American renter's system, not to mention bank account. But it was the lack of a middle ground in home furnishings that really challenged my interior design sensibilities. It was either that ubiquitous Swedish superstore or specialty shops where light fixtures could run in the four-figures. Where were the German equivalents to retailers like West Elm and Crate and Barrel? As far as I could see, there weren't any. Or at least, any with designs worth putting in a stylish home. There's a reason so many European apartments are filled with Ikea.

Sure, after moving to Berlin, a whole world of opportunity opened up with the plethora of shops, boutiques and flea markets, but the abundance of choice, and time needed to scour said choices, can feel overwhelming. So after nearly five years of unfinished home projects, I've been eager to find a one-stop-shop to fill the remaining holes left in my interior design plans. Something modern, clean, homey. Something not Ikea. Enter Urbanara.

I happened upon its pop-up booth inside Bikini Berlin while exploring with a friend the other week and was immediately drawn to some of the light fixtures hung inside. Just what I had been looking for. A look at the price tag left me slack-jawed. This stuff was affordable. No 500€ light fixtures here. As if I needed to be further sold, the woman there told me everything was online and that my first purchase could be had at a 10% discount. I left with a brochure and visions of Tom Dixon-esque copper lights and graphic throw pillows dancing in my head. Making our home everything I had hoped it would be finally feels within reach - without sacrificing the rest of our lifestyle.

Over the past couple of months since I last gave an update on the status of our apartment, progress has all but stagnated. Some unforeseen circumstances, including an unfortunate mix-up with our tax status after registering in a new city, meant apartment updates had to take a back seat while we wait for some things to get sorted out. Even with some snags, we have managed to make some small changes that have gone a long way in helping us to feel more settled and this apartment to be closer to the home I had envisioned.

A streamlined, functional entryway space

While the boxes piled against the far wall in the entryway still remain, putting my Salvation Army-scored vintage console - for $35, mind you - I lovingly refurbished with paint and new handles years ago in a more prominent and appropriate location has made the perfect place for dropping our keys when we get home and keeping all of Bailey's dog-walking needs (leashes, bags and treats) tucked away, but ready to grab as we're headed out the door. The Ikea Stockholm mirror that I have been in love with since it debuted added just the right vibe, matching the mid-century style of the console and bouncing some much-needed natural light that streams in from the living room around the space. I still glare at that pile of boxes, mocking me every time I open the front door, but this wall makes me so happy, I can almost put it out of my mind for a while longer. Almost.

A light fixture I actually love

We originally bought three of these cool artichoke light fixtures from OBI when we saw they had been marked down from 200€ to 10€, quickly clearing the shelf of all they had before someone else realized deal that was to be had. Light fixtures are huge point of contention with me here in Germany: everything affordable is so incredibly ugly and dated, everything stylish is outrageously expensive... which leaves Ikea. Don't get me wrong, Ikea has some great lighting, but sometimes, you know, you just want to have something you don't see every time you peek in the windows of someone else's apartment. (note to West Elm: When the heck are you going to start offering your lighting wired for and shipped to the EU? Seriously.)

So we ended up with three of these babies sitting in our spare room in Wiesbaden for the better part of three years, never prioritizing hiring someone to install them (as they weigh a ton and I didn't want to be responsible for making our ceiling come crashing down in our already-crumbling previous apartment). Two of them ended up coming with us to Berlin and after much prodding on my part about the dark, cavernous space that was our entryway, my husband did some research on how to install it properly. After weeks of hitting challenge after challenge with the thing, he successfully got up the fixture I had been waiting years to see in our entry, making me smile every time I come home.

A small, Zen-like bathroom

For some reason, I got it in my head that the bathroom was the place to get the most massive overhaul in terms of decor. I think going from a bathroom so big it hosted our washer, dryer and a possible yoga space, to something less than half the size meant some major streamlining was in order. Additionally, the bright colors and busy pattern in our previous bathroom just added to the clutter of this already small space, and so I was vehement that all the color goes. White and dark wood with a modern flair and neutral bath linens help make the space feel almost spa-like, instead of the cramped, windowless box it had the potential to be. Next up: lights above the mirror and some better storage solutions.

My Eames knock-off dining chairs (finally)

I swear, I thought we were destined never to have these chairs. Originally, we ordered a pair priced too-good-to-be-true off Amazon, only to have them delivered a month early, before we even lived here, then returned to the sender back in the UK, only to be promised to be resent on the quoted delivery schedule... and then we never heard from them again. They fell of the face of the earth, or at least off of Amazon and any online search engines completely. Nice. So after we recouped the money we had spent on those with Amazon's warranty claim service (thank goodness for that), I found a more reputable-looking, and therefore, of course, more expensive, company selling my desired Eames knock-offs. I don't know who has 450€ to spend on one chair, but it sure isn't me! So after many more weeks of waiting, still sitting on our 8€ Ikea stools, we finally had our dining/my work chairs. No longer did I have a permanent indentation in my thighs from the unforgiving edge of those stools. Now this space, even though I sit at it all day, has become one of my favorite spots in the apartment.

Versatile dining/living/office storage piece

Almost as important as a comfortable place for me to sit and work all day, was a place to keep all my work-related materials. Seeing as the dining room essentially doubles as my office, figuring out where to stash all kinds of books, notebooks, pens, electronics cords, snacks, etc. that would work seamlessly in a dining/living room space seemed like quite the challenge. With space in the dining 'nook' at a premium, I figured some sort of side table next to the couch but within reach of my work space that also had a miraculous amount of storage space was the way to go. After stressing about where this unicorn of a piece of furniture could be, I realized the solution was right in front of me: the ubiquitous Ikea Kallax bookcase. From the side, it would just look like a tall, modern table, but from where I work, the open space can host all my dictionaries and notebooks, while the baskets can hide all the small, desk-drawer-type items, cleanly tucked away. Another bonus: the height of the piece is perfectly matched for our absurdly high sofa arms. Ikea for the win, yet again.

A clean, box-free living room

One of the most impactful changes that cost the least amount of money (none, in fact), was getting the last of the boxes that were still piled in the corner of the living room moved out. Granted, they are now added to cardboard tower in the entry, but what is a few more boxes in an area already dedicated to storage? Their absence in the living room creates a better flow of space and less clutter in the place we use primarily for relaxation and I use for work, so I figure it was a change worth making. The main seating is now better situated in the room and the wine rack/bar is in a better spot for its function. Once we get big storage pieces for movies, games and books and a light fixture here I actually love, this room will be nearly finished.

Fresh flowers

I've always considered fresh flowers to be a frivolous extra that I rarely indulged in, but these last few months, I have found myself picking up a bunch or two on a fairly regular basis. There's something about a bouquet beautifying a space I still find frustrating due to it's continuing in-progress state that helps increase my sense of calm about the whole thing. An added bonus: they also help brighten up those dreary grey Berlin days.


With a ways to go before I would call us completely settled (um, hello, finally finished kitchen...?), making changes that help the space and life within it run smoother and happier are making this transitional time feel a little less uncertain. Plus, the more amazing parts of Berlin we discover outside of our apartment makes a slow-to-materialize interior seem that much less important. Here's to more greatness from this new home of ours, both inside and outside our home.

While we were pleasantly surprised to find that our new apartment had been painted the colors we requested - after being told that it wouldn't be - it put the fast-forward button on our plans for new bedding. I love our warm, sunset-inspired duvet, but with our new bold, dark teal walls, the clash is making me want to hide under the covers rather than luxuriate in appreciation of  a beautiful room on top of them. My vision for these bold walls included more neutral bedding, and it's a new apartment to-do that I'm antsy to make that happen.

At first, I was stuck on the West Elm bedding from my original inspiration, but the realities of high shipping, taxes and duties got the better of me, so I started to look at options based here in Europe. Not surprisingly, one of my favorites is the costly graphic print from Denmark, but with so many super-affordable options, I don't feel as if we need to break the bank to get the look I'm going for. Factor into that a big, black, slobbery dog and budget linens seem like the only sensible way to go. Now the decision is whether to stay simple in subtle pattern, no pattern at all or go for a bolder, more graphic punch... I must say, I've always been a huge fan of white bed linens, but wrapping myself up in soft, simple jersey is also highly appealing.

So after a few more apartment issues get ironed out, this is next thing I tackle. Stay tuned...

white horizontal dot duvet | white vertical line duvet (similar) | black grid duvet

colorful dotted duvet | black drop duvet | grey geometric duvet | grey jersey duvet

Isn't it funny how when things start to take off in one area of your life - for example, those writing and creative opportunities you have been looking for finally materialize - the other areas that have been stagnating - say, a problem-ridden new apartment - start to come together, therefore demanding more of that precious attention you want to be dedicating to the former thing? Perhaps it's just me and my mediocre time management skills, but lately I have felt distracted from my personal projects in light of progress on the home front that has been begging for my attention. Not that I should be complaining, mind you, it's hard sometimes to drum up the necessary creative juices after focusing on cleaning, installing, organizing and the general business of settling into a new home that has been so slow to move forward in recent weeks. Just the natural ebb and flow of life, I suppose.

While the apartment issues have not all been solved (workers are coming on Monday to start work on some of the basics, you know, like re-cutting baseboards to actually accommodate the swing of a door and attaching the hardware on windows so that they can actually be opened), some notable wins have meant cause for celebration. First, we finally got our deposit back from our old apartment (well, the first big chunk of it anyway), allowing us to make another big dent in our to-buy list for the new place. Upon hanging our first mirror and finally having color-coordinating rugs in the bedroom, something shifted for me. It was as if the dark cloud of pessimism I had been feeling from the state of our new apartment finally started to lift. I'm pretty sure I will never be enamored of this place as much as I was for our amazing apartment in Wiesbaden, but I know now that with the patience to see my design visions through, I will love the home that we create within these walls. I also think that my new shoe storage, or more importantly, display, has done wonders for my happiness level (a 39€ Ikea Billy bookcase floor model score). The organizing freak and shoe lover in me have blissfully come together, not to mention that more of my beloved footwear gets consideration when planning my daily outfit. Now they all get the love and attention they deserve.

The other monumental happening was finally getting someone to come out and look at our un-operating cooktop. My poor husband, who had tried countless times to get the thing working was vindicated when the guy explained it wasn't the cooktop at all, but that there weren't enough live wires in the wall for the hook-up. Nice, huh? So he jury rigged some new wiring, cautioned us against having all burners and the oven on at the same time (thinking it might be time to finally invest in that fire extinguisher...) and now we can cook. My poor pots and pans have sat untouched for so long, not to mention my cooking mojo that has all but gone into hibernation, I only hope I can muster the desire to jump back into the kitchen as if I haven't been on this two month hiatus from preparing real, regular meals. I have two unread issues of Bon Appetit waiting to get me inspired, so get ready kitchen, 'cause I'm comin' back to you. Spaghetti night was just the beginning...

It's funny how quickly those big dreams about being settled, unpacked and decorated a month after moving into a new place dissipate in the face of reality. On top of this, so many things went wrong for us that it's been hard to break the cycle of despair about the state of our place. But after making some impactful progress - installing shelves and light fixtures, changing up some color schemes and generally carving out little nooks free from boxes and clutter, with some of my favorite belongings accessible and on display - I'm holding onto these little things as hope for the changes yet to come.

So while the lights and curtains that went up may not be the ones I want for the long haul, and the hallway is piled high with boxes filled with things that have no hope of finding a home in our significantly downsized apartment, not to mention that pesky cooktop that still isn't working, having a dedicated place to drop our shoes after coming home or seeing all the spines to my lovely hardbound classics on our swanky new shelves helps calm my anxiety that there is no end in sight. It provides some optimism that all the the glorious plans I had for making our Berlin home everything we want it to be will actually happen. So whenever I start to fret, I sit on our beloved leather couch, take in my long-sought after pink living room and enjoy a cocktail from our newly reconfigured wine rack/bar tray (why had we never thought of this before?!), realizing that it's pretty darn good so far. Here's a little peek at some of the progress we have made... but there will be much more to come.

Our living room in Wiesbaden is perhaps my favorite room in that apartment, and perhaps my favorite living room I've ever had. With deep, stony-blue walls and high ceilings with amazingly-detailed moulding, it sits in the middle of the apartment and serves as the heart of the home, where we entertain, eat dinner, hang out. In Berlin, our living room may boast a balcony, but otherwise is a much different space with some definite design challenges. The dramatic white stucco and moulding will be replaced by the clean, simple lines of new walls. The square-shaped, open space we have now with doors and windows on every wall becomes a long, rectangular room, accessible only from a single door at the far end. Without all the rich details built into the space, the room will need a bit more work to create just the right depth and warmth.

Additionally, I always like a good excuse for change. So instead of once again doing a dark, almost stately color for the walls, I am opting for light and warm. This room has to not only double as the dining space, but it is also to be my workspace, meaning a lot will be demanded of it. With lighter colors, brighter rugs and a lot more white brought in through the furniture and decor, I'm hoping to make it a happy, creative space that can offer a respite from the grey that often dominates Berlin's landscape. Just one more week...

pillow covers | ladder storage | gold chandelier | Deer wall art via Ouch | Ikea hack table via Triple Max Tons

pink living room by Clive Tompsett   | library shelf | walnut pennant  | LUDDE lambskin | Eames replica chair

Cotswold sofa | STOCKHOLM rug | Krista Keltasen room (via Bambula) | KATTRUP rug
gallery wall | fireplace heater

We decided to make the move to Berlin exactly one year ago, and the wait to have that move materialize has been excruciating. Now that things are finally happening, they are happening fast. Too fast, in fact. I had already started to think that maybe we had jumped on our apartment too quickly, second-guessing the high cost, the small space and the lack of windows, but we had already waited so long and were dying to be in Berlin, After months of looking, it was the best thing we had come across, by far.

Our apprehension about the bare walls and subfloor, along with not knowing exactly what our finished apartment would look like was met with reassurances that we would be able to choose the professionally-finished tiles and wall colors, as well taking our advice on putting in a small pantry in the kitchen for that coveted Berlin apartment storage space. Waiting anxiously for photos, and more importantly, an update to know when to schedule our next trip up to make decisions and take final measurements to order our kitchen with, we finally saw the progress... and my heart dropped. All those concessions we had made in exchange for the opportunity to really make this place our own were were now just negatives in an apartment that was looking less and less like what were expecting with each photo we saw.



Instead of allowing us to choose the tiles as promised, the wall ones had already gone up - and are the cheapest-looking tiles I've ever seen and are clearly meant for a floor, not a kitchen backsplash. They are perhaps even uglier than the old ones in our current dilapidated apartment that I painstakingly stripped and painted. Even worse, the tiles before - especially in the bathroom - were much nicer. Instead of these new massive, bargain-bin-looking tiles, they were carefully chosen and of better quality. There were nice details, like a tile border and the tub even had a mosaic tile front. What were they thinking of with these changes other than budget? We were told that for a Prenzlauer Berg apartment, everything would have to be top-notch quality. My personal aesthetic is all for simple, but this is kind of a joke. Well so far, I think it's looking more like a cramped, cheap hotel than a new apartment undergoing a 50.000€ renovation in one of the nicest parts of town. Maybe I'm just not seeing the whole picture yet...



Poor aesthetics aside, there's also the issue of how the actual space has worked out. Yeah, that pantry we were so excited that they were on board with putting in? It's so big, it could qualify as a fourth room! Great for storage, but it has eaten up so much of the space in our third room, that having overnight guests has gone from cramped to impossible. The bare minimum of furniture we had planned to bring with us for the room will now not even fit.

And while this was to be expected, I'm somewhat hyperventilating at just how narrow and dark the main rooms look after filling in the half-wall that used to partially separate them. It just didn't make sense for our bedroom to be connected to the living room by a massive opening and a door (and the hall door...), and of course, the extra wall space this frees up is ideal. But looking at these photos makes me completely second guess all my paint colors, not to mention worry that months holed up in these narrow, claustrophobic rooms in the winter time will make me want to take a flying leap off the balcony. Well, at least we have a balcony.

I realize that considering my interior design background and very particular feelings around my home, as well as the bias of coming from an incredibly spacious, Altbau apartment with all the nice architectural details, I might be overreacting a wee bit. I mean, we have a Berlin apartment that is being extensively renovated and is available at the perfect time. The neighborhood is ideal. And I realize that without very specific, in-writing accounts of all these things that were promised to us, not to mention the whole potato/potahto issue of two totally different cultures' take on the same thing, we are in no position to call the whole thing off. I should just be happy to have somewhere to move in Berlin, right? Right...?

So I sit here, the majority of my hopes and expectations for this apartment fading fast, and try to decide what to do next. Do we push back and insist they take down those horrible kitchen tiles? Do we just ignore that we were mislead and pay to have them re-done upon moving in? And how are we expected to make flooring and paint color decisions in the next couple days, with minimal notice and no time to travel up there to see the choices in the space and convey our wishes in person? My head is spinning around all these issues I thought were sure things I had already checked off my 'stress list', but it appears they are back with a vengeance and requiring immediate attention. While it's far from a disaster, I'm currently experiencing some major renter's remorse at choosing this apartment.

While we try to sort all this out, I'm trying to breathe deep and focus on the positives... like that sunny, gorgeous balcony view that made me fall in love with the apartment in the first place.

I know I swore that our next apartment would look less like an Ikea showroom, but with a kitchen kind of required to be able to move in and you know, live, the option to pick and choose each piece for this room over time is a luxury we can't afford, in either time or money. Sure, we can add bits and pieces that make it feel more unique later on, but ultimately, we've got to get our order in ASAP for cabinets, countertops, a sink and the like, so that we can feed ourselves upon moving in next month - and Ikea is the place to do that. Oh, the joys of having to buy and install your own kitchen in German apartments... On the plus side, it means designing my cooking space to my needs, a luxury in America reserved only for those taking the massive leap to owning their own home.

Since I'm a fan of a cleaner, more modern aesthetic - with industrial and rustic touches - simple, inexpensive Ikea cabinets and a wood countertop will do just fine. The style I want to bring to it will be more through the use of a bold black wall (walls..?), open shelving and some great accent pieces, like those beautiful copper measuring tools and hopefully a fantastic towel - or two - from the amazingly talented Leah Duncan. While saving in the cabinetry department (even more now, since Ikea announced its kitchen sale now through the first week of December - score!), I'm inclined to splurge on a massive sink and industrial-type faucet, perfect for all the hand washing I do of my beloved pots and pans, not to mention a cool little tripod for all the recipe reading I do on my iPhone. Who knows? Maybe with all this frugality, we could even afford a nice espresso machine to make the most of the coffee shop in the ground floor of our new building...

How about you? What does your ideal kitchen look like? How would you balance budget with functionality and style?

  Weck glass | phone cable/tripod | metric art poster | fixture | copper measuring cups

beech countertop | faucet | black bowl | triangles tea towel | espresso machine

photo credits: 

Civico Quattro 

Kim's page 

unknown (via Ellit)

all via Desire to Inspire

When we first moved to Wiesbaden and I started taking this smaller side street on my walks into the city center, I passed a little antique shop with this Paris painting in the window. Like art often does, this one spoke to me. I'm not sure if it was the age-stained, moody watercolors or the understated view of the tower, quietly unseen, overlooking the rest of the beautiful city, but something drew me to it. There's all kinds of Paris art, photographs, tchotchkies, but this was different. This was special. And I looked forward to seeing it every time I walked down that street.

So when my parents came to visit that first Christmas, my stepfather learned of my affinity for this painting in the shop window and decided it belonged on my wall. He took my then-barely German-speaking husband into this little shop to haggle with the owner in order to put this under the Christmas tree for me. While I must admit that I rather missed seeing it on my walk, now that we are leaving this town, I am happy that I get to take it with us to Berlin, to see every day in our new city.

Perhaps it's the deeply persuasive influence of what's trending on Pinterest, but I've been pining something fierce for pink walls. On rose-hued overload from my childhood spent in houses decorated in my mother's favorite color, somehow I've come around and started considering it for our new apartment. The warmth is what attracts me to it, especially now that I live somewhere that grey is the dominant color for months on end, both in weather and resulting mood, and even more so after we make the move to Berlin. The fact that it would be a nice, light balance to a lot of our very heavy, leather furniture just makes me want it more.

The trickiest thing is finding just the right not-too-bright, yet not-too-peach tone that perfectly reads 'pink' without overwhelming the room - or veering into bubble gum or '80s dusty rose territory. Then there's convincing my husband that having a pink living room is a good idea... I've got paint chips up now to see how they look throughout the day's changing light, and hope to take them up to Berlin to see them in the space before having to make any decisions.

There's also the question of whether to just paint an accent wall, a half wall or the whole shebang. Worst case scenario, we have to choose a new color if it just doesn't sit right with us. After all, it's just paint.

Image credits, clockwise from top left:

design by Mette Helena Rasmussen, photograph by Tia Borgsmidt

H&M Home spring 2013 campaign | Clive Tompsett| Ben Pentreath Ltd.

bottom image: Nicole Balch of Making it Lovely