Every so often something happens to make me smile at the whimsy of the universe; those serendipitous things that drop in our laps and change everything. I’ve been thinking about that, and wondering: chicken or egg? Do we just notice and respond because we’re in tune to them, or are these events really some magical, synergistic response from the world at large to the cues we’ve been sending out? Or, more simply- are they just the final happy accidents that come from effort expended?
Not sure, but all seems to be coming into alignment in my little world. The harbinger of happiness came in the form of, of all things, a laundry room. Hardly the “call to arms” one would expect to signal the end of a long, dark and challenging time, but there it is: the dirty socks of positivity, in darks, lights and delicates.
The story started with a surprise phone call about a month ago from a woman who had my card and didn't know how she'd gotten it; she sounded slightly desperate. Debbie Raia introduced herself and asked me if I'd be interested in participating in the Stately Homes showhouse, an elaborate fundraiser for the Visiting Nurse Association of Central Jersey that happens every two years in the posh provinces of Monmouth County. Hmmm.
For those who have no knowledge of showhouses, it’s not unlike a designer’s version of putting on a play; broken down into “scenes” (rooms), multiple designers are given a space to showcase what they can do, no holds barred. A very generous, good natured and slightly crazy homeowner hands over her large and elegant home for this purpose, and the results are staggering. Glamour abounds- elegance, colour, drama, crystal and really great design. The work is inspiring, the commitment and creativity is astounding, and it’s a great honor to be included in any regard. Interested? Absolutely!
So, off I go to meet Debbie, who is frantically scrambling to find someone to take on lost corners of the house. In particular… the Laundry Room. A dank, dark cave at the bottom of the stairs, subject to seepage, with water stained peastone walls, it was an unwanted and forlorn mess. I, foolish me, thought: HOW FUN! Cleaning up the muddy and mundane? Right up my alley: a space to be saved! A homespun home of clothespins, steamers and a plethora of wrinkles unraveled. In my mind's eye I saw a strange sort of domestic poetry composing itself. But- wisdom prevailed; I'd need massive help to make it happen. Because from my head to finished product there was clearly much work, little time and no money.
My first calls were to my favorite miracle workers: a team of three men whom I may marry. I could dream anything, but who was going to get this sucker built, by donation and in a month? I needed, and got, my Dream Team: George Weston, contractor extraordinaire, perfect skeptic, never satisfied with “good enough”; he will rip it out and redo rather than settle for just "OK", always with a smile and a sarcastic joke; Tom Casale, cabinetmaker to the stars, who stayed up nights and weekends, worked through illness and his 15th wedding anniversary (I am so sorry, Alisa!) to put together way more and better than I hoped; and Patrick Marando, master of artful applications, whose icing on the cake and gilding on the lily makes the space sing in layers, tangents, and a few little gemstones. All three gladly (hah, if they only knew) volunteered their time, talents and pocketbooks to put together my little attempt as whimsy in the cave.
This is my first showhouse and I am awed by the process- by the incredible talent and energy of the VNA women putting this together; by the creative energy of the designers, painters, carpenters, electricians, landscapers, artists, and on and on and on… The planning is extraordinary and the VNA committee runs it with the organizational skills of a small corporation, the patience of kindergarten teachers and the goodwill of concierges in grand hotels. They are masters in the great art of cajoling, problem solving, cleaning up, dishing out and getting it done- all with a smile. I am impressed, and proud to be part of the process.
But the best outcome of this process, as always, is creating something from nothing- meeting people, meeting deadlines and making this dark little space smile. And doing so with some pretty extraordinary people. I loved it, every minute of it- the schlepping and painting and sanding and scrubbing and coaxing; the ridiculous deadlines, the playful banter on site, the slight panic when I realized we had (not even) days left. I’m surprised by just how much FUN it actually was. I feel like I just went through the spin cycle and am hanging out to dry.
I’m thinking, this is design at its heart: with the right mindset, the right people in our lives and a little openness to the universe, even something as mundane as the basement laundry room can become…magic.
My little pea-stone lined corner of the world, decked out in Tropicana Cabana, will be open for public viewing on May 3. Come visit! It’s down from the kitchen, first door on your right. You can’t miss it, look for the clothespins.
For those interested in visiting this Wonder on the Navesink, visit the website for information:
http://statelyhomesbythesea.com/
