We live in an 80’s style dome. I know, it sounds like the punchline to a bad joke or something, but come on this IS my life we’re talking about. My husband fell in love with it at first glance and by first glance I mean during a drive by we did after seeing it on the Internet. Now we are doomed to be called “hippies” until the day we die or move out, but I think my husband secretly loves that because he’s in the generation that was sort of like the younger siblings of the hippie era and has felt left out ever since. It’s the only reason I can explain his obsession with the Grateful Dead and going barefoot. When the realtor showed it to us he framed it as “retro 80’s” and swore that if he moved in he wouldn’t change a thing. He said, “It’s fabulous. It’s so 80’s that you just have to go with it.” Well, it was built in 1983 and had the beaten down, stained, shag carpet to prove it. We signed all of the closing papers on a Monday and by Tuesday afternoon we had ripped out most of the carpet. That turned out to be a big mistake because on Friday we got a call from the realtor saying the seller(s) hadn’t signed all of the closing papers and there was a bit of a hold up. Our house was in a trust that required 5 people to sign the bill of sale and one wasn’t happy. Ut oh. We had just ripped out at least 1800 square feet of carpet in a house we didn’t actually own yet. We told the realtor the seller better sign or we were all going to be in a big mess of trouble. It was a week of back and forth and secret name calling, but luckily, the one holding everything up finally signed the papers and the house was ours. Sometimes when I look around I feel transported back to my childhood and not always in the good way. Mostly because it is a constant reminder of just how old I really am.
The kitchen still has the original vinyl flooring (strong enough to survive a nuclear holocaust). The quality is something I haven’t seen offered at Home Depot in a long time now, but the style is something to be desired. It’s brown with a side of brown, accented with brown.
Then there are the light fixtures and the never ending mauve and blue color palette in the bathrooms. I am sure you are all familiar with that! The only thing missing is a few blue ducks stenciled on the kitchen walls and a few countrified decor items lingering on the top of the cabinets.
Our microwave is large enough to climb inside and take a nap in. I am amazed it still works because all of the microwaves I have purchased in the last ten years haven’t lasted more than two or three years before kicking the bucket. This one just keeps humming away completely unaware that it is out of style and over sized. Stuff today just isn’t made like it was back in the day and my house is living proof of that. It’s a museum of sorts, in an I want to hire an interior decorator sort of way.
I’m not complaining though. It is kind of comforting and I don’t have to worry much about messing things up because, well, they are messed up already or made of the kind of quality that can take a beating or two. Plus, we have a pretty cool ceiling and very few walls. Yeah, don’t even think about putting furniture in this bad boy.
The realtor was right. It’s fabulous in it’s own right and it is much easier to go with the 80’s styling than to try and recreate the future within the bones of the past. I just keep hearing Madonna and Michael Jackson playing in the background and figure I have chosen the soundtrack of my life. It could be worse. I could have bought a house fashioned around the “grunge” period and been stuck with flannel curtains. It has good lighting, good vibes and is totally cool man so I guess we are sticking with it even if the masses call us hippies and expect to smell patchouli oil floating through the air every time they step foot through the front door. That’s not going to happen (I really don’t like the scent), but there might be some Madonna playing on the stereo…