Pretty Only Gets You So Far

At the book launch. Ignore my crazy eye. Let's call it my attempt at living out the book's message. Photo credit: Yulia Mikhalchuk.

 Last week, my sister invited me to join her (and our friend, Alissa) at a launch party for Deborah Needleman's new book, The Perfectly Imperfect Home. For those of you interested in design, you know that Deborah was the Founding Editor of the widely-hailed, yet-to-be-rivaled Domino Magazine, and is now Editor-in-Chief of The Wall Street Journal.

I have to admit that while I adored Domino, I bought her book a bit hesitantly. I am not an interior designer, and the thought of reading a whole book devoted to the subject sounded about as exciting as, well, probably as exciting as reading a technical painting guide sounds to all those non-artists out there. But friends, I read it cover to cover!
Deborah believes that homes should be deeply personal spaces -- that the little thoughtful quirks in our spaces are what breathes life and interest into them. I couldn't agree more. Pretty only gets you so far.
 We've all been in rooms that are so carefully constructed that we are terrified to upset the balance of a throw pillow. These are often spaces that are beautiful in the abstract, but stale and lifeless in reality. They beg for a backpack or a couple of pairs of boots flopped next to the door.

Kids rooms should look like kids live in them. Jenna Lyons sets a gorgeous fireplace off with dramatic paint and lets her son's toys handle the bulk of the design work. There is something sad looking about a perfectly manicured child's room.

This is a concept that extends to all forms of beauty. A model can have the most classically perfect face in the world, but it takes a distinct (often traditionally 'unattractive') feature to distinguish her as a true beauty. These are the faces we linger over and remember.

This J. Crew model wears her wrinkles and the gap between her front teeth like a badge of a well-lived life.

  We admire this or that fashion designer, but we swoon over those seemingly thrown-together outfits that scream effortless style.

The Satorialist snaps pictures of casual pretties on the street.

We know that beauty exists. We want to see that beauty can be human.