Purple Is As Purple Does

Recognize this place?

Yup. That's Monica's apartment.

And those are her purple walls. The walls that I have coveted every.single.time. I watch the show.

But I shall covet no longer. Because as of yesterday, I have my own purple walls. Granted, they aren't in my living room. Or my kitchen. Not in my bedroom either. Or even the bathroom.

Nope. Because I live in a house that is heavy on the testosterone, my purple walls were relegated to the laundry room.

And. Oh. How I heart my purple walls.

My house was built in the 70s. Back when shag carpet and faux woodgrain paneling was rockin'. Now...not so much. We have managed to take care of the throw-back to disco in most of the house, but the laundry room was way down on the list of priorities to revamp. Mainly because I'm the only one that ever goes in there. Ahem. And because you could just pull the door closed, and no one had to stare at the cave of ugliness.

Until yesterday.

I had already decided to pull EVERYTHING out of the room in order to deep clean it. It was pretty gross. There may or may not have been remnants of a plethora of sticky substances stuck to the floor with small pieces of dryer fuzz stuck in the goo. Yah. I know. Grossness.

While I was perusing the hardware aisles at the store in search of the next great organizational tool to conquer the nastiness with, something caught my eye. It was colorful. And pretty. Eye candy at its finest.

Before I knew what hit me, I had steered my rickety buggy over to the paint swatches and began to drool over the rectangular rainbows.

Hmmm....Yellow? No. Too predictable.

Green? No. Too green.

Blue? No. Too manly.

Khaki? Blech.

Red? Enough ketchup stains running through the room already without feeling like a tomato was tortured in there, too.

Pink? Not brave enough.

Purple? Hey. Purple!

Just like in Monica's apartment! I can be Monica Rachel!

And before I knew what hit me, I had pranced my swatch card over to the counter and had the paint fella mix me up a healthy batch of the most fabulous lavender you have ever seen.

And it was going in my house. On my walls. Oh. Blissful day.

I scurried home, dropped my drop cloth, reluctantly accepted the help of the rascals, and got to work. We painted all afternoon, because I was determined to have it done and ready by the time the husband got home. A surprise, ya know?!

After the purplisciousness was up and drying, it was on to cabinets and trim. I gussied those up with a healthy coat of white paint, and my little laundry room made its way out of the disco ghetto and into fabulousness.

I didn't take any before pictures, because it was just gross. And I didn't want to sceere off the readership. But, here is an after shot. And I forgot to take any before I already had it loaded down with laundry. Go figure. But, you can at least appreciate the magnificence of the purple.

The husband wasn't delighted with my color choice, but admitted that he really didn't care since "it's your room" and "at least it wasn't the bedroom." Add to the fact that he had to do zilch of the manual labor (except hanging my shelves back up...thanks, honey!), and I probably could have painted the walls lime green with hot pink polka-dots, and he wouldn't have cared.

Now, I wonder if the purple face-lift will inspire a new love of laundry?

Doubtful.