I am a strong believer in the concept that if your space is messy, your mind is messy and vice versa. Before moving to Boston I collected my things and realized out of all the clutter in my room there are only a few things I cannot imagine living without. I have always needed my own, well decorated, almost catalogue worthy space. While I was in school my room would get progressively messier throughout the week and by Thursday it looked like an absolute shit show. Usually by Thursday, my emotional status was also a shit show and I would throw wet towels on the floor and scatter hair ties around the carpet like I was throwing confetti. On the weekends I would suddenly have a rush of cleaning adrenaline to fix everything. Picking up cups that had left sticky rings on tabletops, hang clothes I had rejected as possible outfit choices and finally make my bed. With fewer items and less square footage to produce messes my parents would refer to as “earthquake stricken” I have been able to stay fairly neat. Some treasured objects that make my little nook feel like home are:
- a tiny succulent I bought for an absurd amount of money at a flower shop on Tremont St. (Believe it or not I’ve been pronouncing this wrong the whole time. It’s not TREEmont its TREmont…like exactly…how it’s spelled)
- a pink antique glass ashtray from my gramma where I put rings I never wear
- a framed picture of my dad and I when I was a baby (I look a little bit like a squid)
- an Annie Hall poster my friend Emma got me for my birthday
- a print that says “You make my heart skip a beet” with pictures of beets. Just to let everyone know that I’m quirky and absolutely adorable.
- about 30 of my favorite books
- a “Good Vibes” pillow cause y’know I’m definitely hip enough to own it
- 3 pairs of hoop earrings that are VERY different from each other okay??
- my camp dog tags
Most of the things I own are from Urban Outfitters. Urban Outfitters whole schtick is their clothes and home decor look like they have that “well loved” yard sale look when in reality you paid $48 for a pillow that about 5 billion other white girls have. They make it seem like you are buying these unique pieces when in reality EVERYONE has the same stuff. When my parents bought furniture for their first home they found it on the side of the road, or got it passed down or made it in woodworking or some adorable shit like that. When my children ask where I got my oversized patchwork pillow I will have to tell them the romantic tale of clicking “add to cart.” Am I going to stop shopping there? No.
Merriam Webster defines a nook as:
: a small space or corner that is inside something
: a part of a room (such as a corner) that is used for a specific purpose
: a quiet place that is sheltered by a tree, rock, etc.
I like the third definition because it makes me think about this book I loved when I was little about a boy who had a pet salamander and kept making his room more desirable for the creature until he straight up just lived in a jungle. Just his bed under a canopy of trees with his little salamander. I like my little nook just fine.