Building the Foundation Before Curating a Home

For me, decorating a house is not synonymous with curating a home--a distinction that derives from the meaning I've attached to the word "home."

While decorating a house might offer visual appeal to the common eye, it is staged and does not highlight the unique narrative of its owner. It's like window shopping at West Elm and choosing between four potential living room sets, where at least one set is aesthetically pleasing to {almost} all consumers. For me, those living room sets feel like standardized, one-size-fits-all designs for the masses, which cannot incorporate the unique characteristics of your space or you. Unlike decorating a house, curating a home is the process of utilizing a physical space to capture the feelings, passion, and story of its owner. So why does this distinction matter? And why might it seem like I am giving you a vocabulary lesson when I'm supposedly here to share advice and insights about home decor? Because the meaning I attach to the word "home" is the foundation that guides and inspires every decision I make when I decorate. It is the central influence of my decorating process and, going forward, will provide you with a lot of insight into the "why" and "how" behind my own home decor--something I will break down in upcoming blog posts.

My goal behind starting this blog is not to provide you with cookie-cutter information, promoting only what I find to be visually appealing or to help you design a house that feels more like a museum than a home. Rather, my intention is to offer my own insights, experiences, reflections, and resources with the hope that you can better determine what "home" means, feels like, and looks like to you; acquire the skill set and confidence you need to curate a home; and utilize that skill set to create your dream home on a budget.

So, without further ado, I introduce you to Throw Pillows Not Parties™.

Throwing Pillows Not Parties™ represents a virtual space I will document my experiences, insights, and advice surrounding the sometimes-difficult-but-always-rewarding process of transforming a house into a home. Decorating has always been my creative outlet, but it is my motivation behind decorating that, more importantly, inspires my creativity: I love that decorating generates a final work product that I get to relish daily. That instant grateful-to-be-home feeling permeates through my mind and body when I take in my settings from my cozy bedroom as I wake up in the morning and returns when I walk through the front door at the end of the day. It's a feeling everyone deserves to feel daily and was the primary reason I decided to start this blog.

When I was considering whether I should create this blog though, I questioned whether I really had enough content to write about to truly start blogging. I mean, I don't have a background in design (or really anything artistic) and I've always lived in small apartments or rented single rooms in a shared house--so, I didn't exactly have any experience filling a house with home decor. Did I really think I had that much to offer to even a single reader? So I decided to dedicate just ten minutes to coming up with potential topics for blog posts. And, as it turns out, I had a lot of ideas--ideas that did not center on filling a home, but instead centered on utilizing a space to create a home (regardless of size). Only then did I naturally self-validate all of my ideas as ones that others would also find interesting--disclaimer: I should probably let you know now that I tend to be very sarcastic, especially when claiming I am sort sort of expert or brilliant mind on home decor, or really anything else for that matter, haha. Thus, the adventure began...

But with so many amazing ideas, I (unsurprisingly) struggled with choosing what to write about first. Placing so much pressure on creating my first post that would clearly define my blog, I froze, avoided choosing a first topic, and continued to make a list of another 10+ topic ideas I had for blog posts. Luckily, my very qualified editor--i.e., my not-so-qualified boyfriend (Derek), given his previous (hilariously) bare bachelor pad completely enveloped in white walls (which he inexplicably preferred and which will surely offer a variety of topics to write about)--proposed a topic directed to the primary purpose of this blog, i.e., to help you discover what "home" means, feels like, and looks like for you. Specifically, Derek suggested answering the following questions: What does "home" mean for me? How did I decide that? And how can this help others develop their own meaning of "home"?

I chose to accept Derek's suggestion--not because I might get a few relationship bonus points for actually taking his advice that I sought after for once (sorry Derek <3), but because this is exactly the foundation to lay before investing your valuable time and money into the home improvement or decoration process. So, with that--and by that, I mean an unnecessarily, but also totally necessary, long introduction (please don't give up on me just yet)--I can now share with you what "home" means to me and why I consider this to be the foundational insight into my creative process.

"'Home' is the singular place that invariably grants me permission to be me without judgment, input, or societal pressure. 'Home' embodies a simplistic, physical expression of the beautiful & layered complexities that make me 'me'--from my experiences, relationships, & curiosities to my sometimes indescribable, deeply internalized feelings."

For me, "home" is a warm and welcoming hug that simultaneously comforts me from and prepares me for my time in the outside world. "Home" begins with the four structural walls that serve as a physical reminder that I can safely lower my own internal walls. It is the place that carries the bulk of the heaviness of my mental blocks--the invisible and indescribable weights that have been carefully placed to continuously fight and protect me from the outside world. "Home" is the off button for my "fight or flight" mode. It is the place I love to describe as my little safe haven, my place to feel secure even when I am at my worst.

"Home" is not only my savior or protector but it is also the place I feel most free to discover who I am. "Home" is the singular place that invariably grants me permission to be me without judgment, input, or societal pressure. "Home" embodies a simplistic, physical expression of the beautiful and layered complexities that make me "me"--from my experiences, relationships, and curiosities to my sometimes indescribable, deeply internalized feelings. From its emotional purpose to its physical appearance, my "home" continues to change just as I continue to change. I believe my visual "home" will perpetually change because our homes are intended to be a physical depiction of the beautiful conglomeration of our loved ones, our community, our memories, our wisdom, and all the other experiences and emotions that make up who we are: forever changing and growing humans.

Right now, my understanding of "home" might seem abstract and unhelpful to you when it comes to decorating your own home. But every home begins as a "house": a blank slate, a three-dimensional canvas of sorts, which holds an infinite number of potential transformations from house to home. But it must be home for you, not me. "Home" is the place we all instantly picture when we say, "I want to go home." That phrase is the key to how I define "home." That is, I ask myself, "Why is that I feel drawn to the particular space I call 'home' and at what point did I subconsciously decide that space had been transformed from 'house' to 'home'?" These questions naturally lead to endless, more detailed (or you-specific) questions about what a "home" means, feels like and looks like to you. Next time you find yourself saying, "I want to go home," ask yourself: What do you picture? Is it a certain space in your home? Your favorite spot on the couch with your favorite blanket? Is it a particular activity that helps you decompress? Maybe a reading nook hidden from the world? Or a favorite window to admire the outdoors while listening to music? Is it just a feeling you get when you walk through the door? Is there something visual or otherwise that initiates that feeling? What is it and why do you think it makes you feel that way?

Your answers to these questions begin to set the tone for your individual inspiration to create a home. It is this foundation that inspires my own home, and I will share my own answers and a breakdown of how those answers are visually seen throughout my own home soon.

Takeaway: Curating a "home" requires us to first understand what "home" means to us and to identify what it feels like to us. Only then can we decide how it looks to us, how we can weave our personal sense of "home" into decorating a house and curate a "home."

Notably, the opportunity to define and create a "home" is a privilege the world does not equally share. I know I am lucky to hold this privilege and it is therefore a place I want to truly utilize, value, and appreciate as well as help you do the same. Thanks for reading along.

Xo, Pax