Tuesday, January 29, 2013

martha doesn't live here

I love a well-run household. I have the greatest admiration for neatly organized and serene spaces where everything has a place, and everything is in its place.
Sometimes I dream of beautiful, clean, minimalist living rooms with all-white upholstery and freshly painted walls hung with a carefully curated art collection...

...Of kitchens designed to be beautiful and functional, all food stored in matching antique glass mason jars arranged artfully in antique wire trays and placed on earthy wood open shelving made from re purposed old-growth fir.

Years ago I was a devotee of the cult of Martha Stewart. I subscribed to The Magazine (archiving all the early issues, of course), watched The Television Show (eagerly awaiting for months the yearly Christmas Special) and hung on the Domestic Goddess' every pronouncement.

I actually believed I could do it all, just like Martha. I baked my own bread, sewed quilts for our beds, curtains for our windows, refinished tag sale furniture and made my own lamps, painted and rearranged and reorganized and once I even made my own wrapping paper. Of course I realize now that I was completely delusional. (More on that later.)
No one could ever measure up to Martha. She's larger than life. A living icon. A paragon of domesticity. She has Staff.

Comparing her to the Big Guy Upstairs, someone once said
Martha could have made the world in FIVE days:
Two Days to create staff,
Two Days to delegate,
and One Day to redo it all to Her standards.

To top it all off, the Domestic Goddess appears perfectly normal when you see Her in photographs. Well, mostly She does. Even Martha has days that don't go exactly according to Her plans.

But when that happens, She still manages to pull it together and makes sure everyone is at least color-coordinated.
She dotes on her animals, who apparently have such perfect manners (who would dare to misbehave?) that they are welcomed for dinner at the Plaza.
Although, some require a little tough love to let them know She's their mother.
Some say Martha has a dark side, but She says Herself that She cannot be destroyed.
Some have attempted to, but I wouldn't recommend it.

But I digress. I wanted to show that there can be Life After Martha. It's often not pretty, but at least it's real. And it can be accomplished with minimal staff. (Mostly of the four-legged variety)
Welcome to my post-Martha nightmare dream:
It may not live up to Martha's standards, but then...

1 comment:

Aunt Snow said...

I feel exactly the same way. Pretty pictures. Not in my house, though.

The dog hair, the dust-catchers, the clutter.

and as for Martha herself - the controlling nature it would take to make your world like that...uh uh, not for me.