from Country French to Bohemian Modern: The story of my living room

Welcome to my current living room.

This is the story of my living room, dining room, and adult life. Dramatic, but true.

Much like religion and politics, a lot of folks start out just doing what their parents do in their homes. Just-bought-my-first-house-Ashley Daly was no different. Gilded things, Country French, brushed bronze, frosted light shades, yellow walls, and bunnies everywhere. A lovely space, but not quite my own. 

Maybe it was the fear and pressure of taking on a large debt like a mortgage that ushered me towards the comfort of my mom's style. Or maybe owning a home was so synonymous with adulthood that I needed the strength of my parents' example to feel qualified and capable enough. Certainly, I was also influenced by the fact that a lot of my first furniture was free from my family home. Getting things for free-ninety-nine plays a large role in first home decor.

It wasn't until recently that I started taking excessive vanity photos of my home, so please bare with me on the before shots. Also please, don't enjoy any images of me doing weird stuff too much. Just study the furniture. 

I think as you peruse these images of my home throughout the ages, you'll see that some themes and certain items carry through. The photograph my friend Adam Wisneski took of Western Oklahoma while we road-tripped out to see my brother, my dedication to wall-hanging lamps, lots of color, orange-toned furniture (super strange but true), liquor, and streamlined sofas all continue to inhabit my home. Gold frames also remain, but no longer take center-stage. 

I tend to be a woman who dabbles in extremes and ends at a happy medium. Yes, I rebelled against my home decor upbringing and plunged deep into Mid-Century Modern and Minimalism. But, I preserved a piece of my gilded self by moving my largest gold frame from its prominent sofa position to the dining room, just over the bar. There is something more understated about pairing visual hedonism with alcohol. Other items I simply stored in a closet, not quite ready to let go. I'm glad I did not eradicate all my fancy-schmancy, as lately I've been tempering my simple lines with the bohemian girl of my college days. And good for me.

Let's do the math. Country French childhood + mega boho eclectic single girl days + a husband who prefers minimalism = current bohemian modern space. 

With Love,

Ashley Daly

It's all so buttoned up now. I say "no thank you" to those baskets under my furniture. They urged me to clean even less than I do now.

Check how I have always loved brass, but now instead of a lamp, my brassiness comes out in tiny brass animals.

I wish you could see the whole red country corner shelf. It taught me that I didn't have to put up with the shitty waste of space that is cornering a flat-backed bookcase. You don't have to do that either.

The first chairs are from my husband's apartment and a garage sale, the second ones are from Retro Den before Ashley Palmer and I got to own it. I was a customer too once. Those days.

My parents moved and left a ton of their stuff with me. I struggled to get rid of things that seemed necessary to keep, like candles and a really cool vintage bread box. Here's the deal, there were SO many candles that I felt anxious about ever being able to use them all. It was a feeling I had no interest continuing to have. I donated and gave them away. I am free to shamelessly get a single new candle should the mood strike me. Getting real with myself about candles (and the like) allowed me to embrace small and fewer pieces of storage furniture.