It’s Easy to Postpone Designing as Renters. But It’s Time to Stop.
Project 365, Day 126/365
I had a thought today. Charles and I had spent the last few days in Santa Barbara, getting away in the safest way possible, and before we headed back home, we sat outside enjoying a beverage and the last wisps of the ocean air. “It’s lillordag!” Charles said to me. “Wow, it sure is. IT’S LILLORDAG, IT’S LILLORDAG!” I replied back.
I’ve taken to coming into the guest bedroom every Wednesday morning, where I’ll usually find Charles toiling away at his computer, and say as enthusiastically as I can muster as a non-morning person “It’s lillordag, it’s lillordag!” so it’s become a thing of mine. It somehow cements the day for the both of us. One Wednesday a few weeks back, I was having an off day, and early in the evening, after both our work days were finished, Charles had pointed out to me that I didn’t even “declare” it was lillordag. And hence, it didn’t quite feel like a lillordag. So when I can remember, I do just that.
But as we drove back, my mind built a bridge between lillordag and designing a rented apartment or home. Stay with him, I know that feels like a stretch, but I’ll connect it.
As I starred at the ocean whiz by on PCH (as my friend Sara informed me it’s not “the” PCH, but just “PCH” haha), my brain materialized a question I’ve been flirting with recently. Taking one mundane day and making it feel special in some way even if small—which is essentially how I approach lillordag—can surely be applied to other areas of life. Here’s the thing: on lillordag, Charles and I tend to do things we might not do, or might save for, say, a Friday. A quick example: Charles is a big kombucha fan. On our grocery list every week, there must be at least three bottles of his chosen ginger lemon kombucha. He spaces out his three bottles and until lillordag, he’d certainly never chose a Wednesday to have a kombucha. It felt like…a waste? But I have a clear memory of him muttering to himself one Wednesday “You know what…I’m having a kombucha. It’s lillordag, after all.” It was something that brought him a little bit of joy. A little mid-week treat. That otherwise he may have postponed for another day.
To me, lillordag is really about being present and not living by some superimposed rule of routine and mundaness that is often applied to the mid-week blues. You cook dinner because that’s just what you do. You go to bed early because that’s just what you do. You stay in because that’s just what you do. But in the Hernandez-Shaw residence, lillordag is the impetus to live a little when normally we wouldn’t.
Should we not aim to set up our homes, however impermanent, to help us live our best lives and feel the best every day?
This brings me to design…rental design to be specific. One of the most common things I hear from people living in rental homes (specifically rental apartments) is that they don’t see any point in investing in decorating because it’s just “temporary.” It doesn’t make sense to spend money on a sofa that might not fit the next place, for instance. And while I can certainly understand that from a financial, practical perspective, I do not understand it from a living perspective. Should we not aim to set up our homes, however impermanent, to help us live our best lives and feel the best every day? Let us not postpone feeling at home in our own homes for an unknown time or an unknown future.
Personally, I think it’s less “practical” and more psychologically not wanting to plant roots in a situation you may not want for yourself. And man, do I get that. But just because you painted that wall, or changed out that light fixture or bought the bed you really, really wanted, doesn’t mean you’ll be stagnant. If anything, those things could be the very things that bring you to life, propel you to the next thing.
If my apartment didn’t bring me joy when I walked through the door, I promise you I would have likely been long gone from it, or this city. It took a very long time to settle into Los Angeles as our for-right-now home. For both Charles and me. Investing my energy (and okay, money) into turning a rental apartment into a place I could live for years to come got me through some trying times. It was my refuge. We all deserve a refuge. YOU DESERVE A REFUGE. However forever or for-right-now your living situation is. Because here’s the thing. Just like that box you put in the corner randomly six months ago you swore was “just until you find a better place for it,” things tend to stretch out for far longer than you ever initially intended, for better or for worse. So how do you make right now, this moment, however long it lasts, feel the best it can feel?
I tend to see things through the lens of design and interiors probably far more often than most, but it’s because I’ve seen with my own eyes the impact a space designed to make someone happy and thrive can have on quality of life. And if that’s not lillordag-y, than I don’t know what is, frankly.
So that’s how my brain connected rental design with lillordag. It makes sense to me. How do we apply sprinkling a little magic into the everyday to other areas of life? How do we stop postponing living or even just things that bring us joy?
If you’re reading this, and you have a rental apartment or home that you haven’t wanted to invest time or energy or money into, let’s talk about it. I promise even the smallest thing—a piece of art, a new throw pillow, rearranging some things, painting a wall—can completely and utterly change the way you feel in the space you spend the most time for the better. It’s worth it. IT’S WORTH IT BECAUSE YOU ARE WORTH IT.
See you tomorrow, FOAS.