Unfamiliar Territory

In search of a birthday present for Caylee's little friend, I entered a certain department store with a plan and a goal in mind but something happened along the way that took me on a detour into a mysterious and intimidating new world.

Passing through the Home Decor department, aisles of vibrant autumn colours caught my eye. Remembering my frumpy, bland cushions at home and seeing the red SALE signs beckoning everywhere, I couldn't help but take a closer look.

Mid-way along the aisle was a woman of about the same age, 28 - (whaaat?). She was already well advanced in her cushion selection and she seemed to be working by a definite system of elimination. She pulled cushions off the shelf, compared, fluffed and stuffed them away if they weren't right or if they held promise, she allowed her hand to caress the fabric to get that full, sensory experience. If it qualified, it was promptly plunged into her trolley. It was obvious - this woman knew a thing or two.

First Contact

"I think what I need is a total room makeover!" I said, randomly. She had to hear me because she was standing right next to me. She threw her head back and laughed. "Tell me about it!" she replied. With a response like that, there had to be more to her story. I was intrigued.


"I love these," I said, pointing to her Aladdin's cave of trolley treasure. She had neutrals with a splash of red, small rectangle cushions of pleated pleasure, next to shiny dual-toned chargrilled reds with ruffles that would satisfy even Jeannie Little. (Iconic Aussie woman who wore clothing fashioned out of plastic supermarket bags to a black tie event - bananas - love it!) But my favourite had to be the fluffy white number. It looked like a scruffy, unclipped Maltese Terrier. I half expected it to leap out of her trolley and race away yapping!

Back to Reality

"I know what would happen to that one at my place," I announced, pointing to the shiny, ruffled cushion. "It would get kicked from one end of the house to the other until all the frilly bits flew off it!"

"You've got boys too?" she replied. A-ha! Something in common. We discussed ages and sporting obsessions then returned our attention to the matter at hand.

"And that one," I said, pointing to the Maltese, "I'd be vacuuming up bits of that for months!" She laughed but I could tell something on the inside registered. Those darling cushions were going to be destroyed by her very precious and very active eight and six year old boys. Her four-year-old daughter would probably take a liking to the Maltese, brush it regularly and give it a name.


"But they're gorgeous!" I reassured. "And sometimes you should buy 'gorgeous' simply because they make you feel happy just looking at them." She relaxed. She admitted she had considered their practicality. Don't talk to me about practical, sister - I'm married to Mr Practical! After all these years, he now accepts that I will choose the side-by-side refrigerator with the smoothe handles over the chunky ones because it's prettier.

Dilemmas and Deficits

"It's hard to find some that are the same tone," she murmured. I nodded and sympathised. It was clear just by looking in her trolley, she knew a thing or two about style. I had much to learn. Teach me Obi Wan. I, on the other hand was still stuck with beige. Call it latte or cappucino but really beige is still beige.

I picked up two with autumn highlights and looked for her approval but she polietly informed me they were different tones. D-oh! Why couldn't I see that? When you're born without the home decorating gene - it's an uphill battle.

The Departure

As my style guru moved away to lay-by her stash, I was still utterly bewildered by the choices set before me. I let a disappointed sigh pass between my lips which made a tiny sqeaking sound like a car tyre had run over the edge of a child's plastic toy. Without further assistance, some medicinal dark chocolate and a dose of fast-acting headache tablets, I decided it was best to move to the comfort and familiarity of the toy department.

Go You Good Thing!

With the birthday present all sorted very quickly (see, that I can do!) I made my way towards the front of the store to pay. That's when I'm sure I heard a voice, "Just choose something!" It was Mr Practical's voice. We're so intune he must've felt my frustration all the way at work. It was time to stop being indecisive. The worst thing that could happen would be to get the cushions home and they didn't look good. I had a receipt - I could return them. Yeah, go girl!

I marched back into the cushion aisle, picked up two, compared, fluffed and stuffed them back and picked up two more. I'm happy to say, I left with not one or two, but four new cushions. I took them home, plonked them on the sofa and ... I liked them! With renewed confidence as an interior designer, I went to another store and bought two more. Woot! I was on a role.

A short speech was delivered to the children after school, consequences were outlined and I'm happy to report that only once have I seen the cushions sprawled all over the floor and only once did I have to intercept a flying rectangular beige and red flying missile. (I went crazy and added colour.) The only problem now is: nothing goes with the curtains!