Give me a vintage pink fridge
resale value can f*ck right off
Assorted thoughts, with a lot of cuss words, about homeownership
When I was about 11, my mom bought a split level house for us in Richmond, VA, that had a rounded refrigerator in dusty pink, with a lever-operated handle and shelves that swung out on hinges so you could reach the stuff in the back. Super smart, right? This fridge came with a matching pink stove and pink strawberry wallpaper in the kitchen. I thought it was awesome. My mother did not. I’m certain this décor was an early ‘60s holdover, but someone must have loved it enough to keep it for another 20 years. We didn’t live there long enough to change it.
I considered these choices when I read Anne Helen Petersen’s thought-provoking piece about How Your House Makes You Miserable and the home-reno industry. It works the same way the cosmetics industry does: it tells you to feel shitty about your appearance so you’ll buy their crap. And it’s not just about feeling shitty, it’s also that ominous future buyer, the “specter of resale value” that has us worried. She writes:
Even if you have no intention of selling in the near or even semi-near future, there’s persistent pressure to make your space amenable to a theoretical someone who isn’t you, the person who very much lives there right now.
Therefore, we submit to the “market-reflected gaze” which tells us what the most professional, resellable, and – as a result – boring and impersonal house looks like. I too covet butcher-block countertops with a deep undermount sink, modern/industrial large-lamp pendant lights, and reclaimed wood floating shelves. And now I know where that supposed taste comes from: pinterest.
Full transparency, I’m just finishing up a bathroom redo in which I chose bright ass spring green paint to go with a bamboo bathmat. There’s certainly more to be explained about this and I’ve done that here. In the middle of that project I decided to add a hanging flower basket to the alley side of the house, get a couple of houseplants, and reorganize my guest room closet to better reflect my new Work From Home life. I am prepping to repaint my kitchen cabinets. So I understand the pull to the Lowe’s paint department (also, hardware section, garden center, bathroom aisle, etc.) In fact the other night I was there and told the guy directing me to the rebar caps1 that I stop by every day, because I always forget something. He offered me a credit card and told me I’m what’s called a pro-customer. I laughed so hard I missed him telling me what the card benefit is.
Homeownership, especially as a single person, can be a fraught venture. You get to make all these decisions yourself, which frankly I’m excessively pleased about. But also when the toilet won’t stop running or you have to buy a new furnace (surprise!), it’s a whole thing and you can’t not deal with it. So here I am trying to make my house as pleasing as possible with the help of paint and endless allen wrenches, and the stove catches fire. You want to live in a place you love but you’re always having to inconvenience yourself with the boring adult shit. The biggest frustration I have, though, is with the outside world which I do not have much control over because I live in a townhouse complex. An HOA and a property manager are both involved. It sucks.
The other morning I was out chatting with the lawn guy who appears every week to mow and weedeat. He asked if I thought he ought to trim the poplar branches which are dragging the grass. I said go ahead, it’s not like the association is going to respond to a request. I think he thought I was a renter and said I should just do things myself. And I said I know that, believe me, and mentioned that I am an owner-resident. So then he’s all “it will cost you more to get some of these things done if you ask someone else to do it” and I said I know but do you see this carport? It leaks. I do not have the tools or the know-how to replace this thing. And he proceeded to explain to me that the whole roof has to be redone. I was like I KNOW, that is not the point. He explained money to me again.2 Finally I got fed all the way up and told him, “I am a grown-ass woman and I know how things work.” I feel a little sad about this turn of events, because Lawn Guy and I had a nice relationship until that moment.
My aggravation, though Lawn Guy mansplained my whole home situation at me, is actually with the HOA. I’ve lived here 18 months and we have had nary a meeting. I don’t totally know what my monthly fee pays for, besides Lawn Guy and building insurance. There are other questions I would like answered as well: What color do I paint the bare and rotting windowsills? What are we going to do about this shitty siding? Am I allowed to plant stuff in Dirty Corner? How can I get the fucking carport fixed before the roof caves in directly onto my car? I’ve sent at least half a dozen emails in as many months requesting a meeting to discuss these topics.3
I might be a Karen.4 I don’t care. And I do accomplish what I can without anyone’s “approval.” I hauled off and painted the windowsills myself with the forest green I thought matched the rest and dug up Dirty Corner to plant some bulbs. I mean, I do not have time in my life to wait for others to get their shit together. And, perhaps, this is why I am single.
And also why my home’s resale value might be compromised by my interior choices. I have a National Geographic yellow bedroom and a murder red half-bath. Upstairs, the aforementioned spring green bathroom. That AHP piece actually pushed me even harder into the “fuck it” camp because I LOVE my murder bathroom and I LOVE my sunny bedroom! And I want my kitchen not to suck because I want to be able to use it better, not because I need someone to buy it in two or five years. The article even has me rethinking my on-trend, dreamed-of butcher block counter with undermount sink because I can now recognize I’ve been re-normed to kitchen reno-vibes. And the last thing I want is to absorb the “market-reflected gaze.”
Give me a vintage pink fridge – those hinged shelves were fucking brilliant.
this is a garden purchase. There are good reasons for rebar in community gardens!
Friends, there was so much more. He told me my sunflowers are dying because the soil is bad. And also because there isn’t enough water. And also that HOAs are terrible because people don’t want to spend money. And also that I need a hose. And also that my neighbor’s water bill won’t go up that much if I use her spigot for my hose. All of this I know. It is so tiring to repeat, “yes, I know”…. and why am **I** the only one in this dialogue feeling awkward about knowing it all??
Breaking news, someone finally responded yesterday and we have a meeting scheduled. Hell yes, America.
apologies to any people reading this named Karen
People who tell you that you can only have one accent colored wall have no soul. When I go to sell my house, they can paint it any color they want.
If you are redoing (painting) you cabinets, talk to me or Melanie Charleston. It's a big deal. I have learned a few things. Yes, I did it myself and I did what I wanted, not my husband. He has not sense of style.