Posted on: Sunday, May 8, 2005
FAMILY MATTERS
Every picture, vase and candle tells a story
By Michael DeMattos
I have lamented the pain and suffering that home-improvement television has imposed on my life before and it remains true until this day.
I have painted rooms, built shelves, hung art, and replaced fixtures amid myriad other things, all in the name of home improvement. Well, sort of. In the majority of cases, it was more repair than improvement.
The projects never end so sometimes, late at night, I turn on the tube for inspiration. Most of the time I like what I see. Sometimes I think I can do better and at other times I end up disturbed, but unable to explain why. That changed a few weeks ago when I sat awake with a nasty case of heartburn — never eat cream-cheeseistuffed jalapenos after 8 p.m. — and watched a design show and finally figured out what has been bothering me.
A team of interior designers was sent in to make over a young couple's living room. The old space lacked any clear theme and seemed rather bland with white walls, oversized sofas, and pressed-wood furniture, all of which are cardinal sins in the world of home makeovers.
Anyway, the newlyweds decided that they wanted a Hawaiian theme for their living room. It turns out that they spent their honeymoon on Kaua'i and wanted to relive the moment in their own home every day after work.
The design team was awesome. They found bamboo in some garbage can and practically wove the reeds together to make a love seat and two chairs. They bought an entertainment center and two
end tables from an Indonesian teak dealer for pennies on the dollar. The walls were painted plantation green with white trim, harkening back to a bygone era. And finally, the team leader picked some palm leaves, covered them in paint, pressed them against some reclaimed wood ("reclaimed" is another way of saying scrap), then framed it up. Instant art. The transformation was remarkable, but something was amiss.
In all the fervor to recapture the feel of the Islands, the one thing missing was anything from Hawai'i. I am not talking about stolen artifacts from some cave in Waimea Canyon, I am talking about simple things like photos taken at the fern grotto or cheesy mai tai glasses from the hotel bar, or ticket stubs from their boat ride up the Wailua River. The room was full of stuff that had no real meaning. It was like being in Las Vegas or Disneyland; nothing was real. It was absolutely stunning, but ultimately meaningless.
I am all for aesthetics and there is nothing I want more than to have a beautiful house, but a house is simply not enough. I want a home — a home filled with memories held within each vase, candleholder, and logoed coffee cup. When it comes to home design, there are some things that cannot be replaced, refurbished or up-
dated. They may be ratty and weathered, but the chips, cracks and stains have a right to be. It seems that the best home makeovers account for aesthetics, utility and nostalgia.
So roll out the new carpet and throw on a new coat of paint, but do not throw out my cracked beer stein from Germany: It may not fit the decor of the room, but it fits my life just fine and it has a story to tell.
Michael DeMattos is on faculty at the University of Hawai'i School of Social Work. He lives in Kane'ohe with his wife, daughter and two dogs.
