Writer’s block

The art of moving — after moving in

Creating a stylish home that fits the tastes of the man and the woman can be a tricky process, especially when dealing with a tattered brown easy chair

By Karin Kane

About three years ago, I moved back to Chicago from London, where I’d been working for a few months. When I moved back to the city, I decided, after long deliberation, to move in with my boyfriend of several years. We’d made it through the long-distance separation (and a lot of other issues) and figured that our relationship was ready to make the jump to the next level.

We were right — our relationship was certainly ready to make the leap toward a more convergent future. Our furniture, decorating styles and design plans, on the other hand, were not. So we embarked on a true challenge: Creating a fun and stylish home that matched both of our tastes.

Before I moved in, Tony had been living with an old college roommate of his in a large two-bedroom apartment near Southport and Roscoe. The location was great, and the apartment was roomy and well laid-out. Some of its other features, unfortunately, were a little less desirable. The floors and walls weren’t properly connected, so a small tunnel ran around the perimeter of each room, collecting dirt, dust and random bits of food that had been dropped on the floor. The landlord was frequently making “improvements” to the place, so construction dust was everywhere. And, design flaws aside, there was the nearly insurmountable problem of style.

While I spent hours considering colors and usage, and flipping through Pottery Barn and Crate & Barrel catalogs and a whole series of shelter magazines before choosing a decoration or piece of furniture, the guys had based their decorating scheme on two main principals: cheap (or, better yet, free) and comfortable.

Fortunately, things started off well. The roommate moved out, and with him went most of the massive stereo system that had adorned the front room. A large blue sectional couch that had wrapped around the sun room also disappeared. My boyfriend wasn’t too upset when I suggested throwing away, among other things, two free maps he’d picked up in London and Paris and tacked to the wall (to be honest, I was glad they were maps and not another type of pin-up). Unfortunately, the posters were only a first step in what would become a very long crusade.

We battled endlessly over the fate of a collegiate-looking blue-and-white-striped duvet, a dining room table with yellow legs and an odd glass-and-metal étagère that held towels in the bathroom. It wasn’t that I had to have my own way in every decorating decision but, really, my stuff was a lot nicer. It matched better, it was in better condition, and none of it had come from somebody else’s back alley.

We weren’t the only ones to go through this, either.

“We brought my dog and my Oriental rug to Chicago,” says Josh Jessar, who recently moved to Chicago with his girlfriend Caroline. “She brought the table, chairs, bookshelves, something that I think is a footstool, lots of pillows, draperies, a vanity, three beds, and just about everything else. It was kind of liberating, and best of all, I don’t have to worry about decorating anymore. I just worry about messing up her stuff instead.”

Tony eventually felt the same way about most of his things, though one last item — a brown easy chair — lasted far longer than I would have liked. The chair appeared to have once been covered in some sort of dark brown chenille-like fabric. Over time, it had faded to a pale, mottled tan. Years of use had made it very soft and comfortable, but consistent neglect meant that it was in such horrible condition that even one of Pottery Barn’s slipcovers couldn’t hide its flaws. The buttons on the back had all popped off. The wooden handle that made the footrest pop up had broken and been taped together with duct tape. And the footrest itself was shedding yellow foam padding in golf ball-sized chunks. Finally, well past what should have been the end of its natural life, a bolt fell out of one of its legs and the chair collapsed. We labeled it with a nice note (“Good Chair – Free”) and moved it to the alley. A few days later, it was gone.

Along with it went most of Tony’s remaining decorating pretensions. When we moved to a condo two years later, he ceded all control, asking only for veto power over any expensive purchases. With the move, we unearthed a few things he had previously hidden, too. His electronic dartboard went to a friend, and a beer coozy collection that had been hidden on top of the refrigerator found its way into the trash.

We moved into the condo feeling liberated, refreshed and ready for the challenge of decorating a new home. Most of our old worthless junk was gone, and we had a lot more space now to hide the things we hadn’t yet agreed to part with. The new furniture, paint colors, accessories and decorations we buy and use now tend to be things we both agree on — although, since most also tend to be fairly expensive, we have decided to take it slowly and remodel and redecorate our new place one room at a time. Tony still has some junk he insists he needs, but fortunately the lure of eBay is strong. And, after all, I need the extra space to put my stuff in!

Click here for more Writer's Block