Design Bigamist Blends Classic and New

I admit, I am in love with two distinctly different design styles: classic and new. Does this make me a "design bigamist?"

I cannot commit to one or the other. I swoon at the sight of a fireplace hand-carved two centuries ago. Merely standing in its presence immediately transports me back in time. I embrace the journey.

And then I step into the next open house, only to be mesmerized by the sense of freedom simple lines inspire. With much joy, I breath in and out, admiring the lack of clutter, feeling somehow peaceful in open spaces with high ceilings filled with natural light from a bank of windows adorned only by their stark frames.

Who knew naked glass would be more appealing than custom-designed window treatments in silk or damask? 

It occurred to me that I exist in a time warp, where one century folds over another. Some people may sit defiantly in one or the other, embracing the traditional, honoring central hall colonials and interior design fashions from the past.

And then others are more focused on the future, and have stripped away any remnants of days gone by, eclipsing history with an eye for exploring what may be coming next.

At last, I believe I finally sighted a compromise to my dilemma. A fusion of my favorite elements is entirely possible, at least in a master bathroom.

Note the contemporary influence in the simple lines of the soaking tub, one whose forerunner had clawed feet. The sconces on the walls are also streamlined, but sconces are hardly new creations. No matter the shape, they nod to an era long ago gone by.

While bathrooms have evolved from functional nooks to elaborate  mini-spas designed to indulge the senses, there is one facet of this one that fascinates me and another that leaves me cold.

I am fond of how the organic wall lends the room a primal quality found only in nature. Somehow, it is the perfect solution for pulling together two opposing design styles, the classic and the new. But I am sometimes dulled by neutrals so pervasive today. Occasionally, I long for the past where interior designers presented enormous wallpaper books to their clients. Flipping page after page showed samples with coordinating fabric for a window treatment and shower curtain. But in today's home, glass--frosted, architectural and clear--have replaced that ritual.

Pity. I miss the scent of fresh wallpaper paste wafting through yellow stripes and coordinating floral fabric. --OpenHouseScribe