Letter from the editor

Designing For Dummies. Have you taken a look at the latest TV shows where they convert a room for $50 and ta-dah... the whole space is turned upside down? Unfinished wood becomes tables, a headboard is fabricated out of cheap curtains and stuffed with pillows your dog wouldn't sit on, and pictures are made from children's experiments with hand-painted frames. It's horrible. But these TV producers do it on a dime and in a day. Who cares? And who wants this happy-hands-at-home makeover? For FIM readers, whether you're aspirational young professionals or accomplished business execs, the idea of staying at home painting a front door blue is almost an embarrassment.
"I have better things to do with my weekend," is the consensus. The alternative is white walls, one great piece of furniture, a first acquisition of good art and a "we'll wait for the rest" mentality. Or there's always the other option: "Let's get a designer, give them our first child's college fund and go for it." The peace of mind in having a professional take on the task of organizing and styling your life at home is like letting go in a sky dive. I say, jump! If you read through our directory of design professionals ("Design Visionaries," page 88) and look at the hundreds of images from an interior and product standpoint, you should be able to not only select a designer, decorator or architect, but also impart a style and product choice in the process.
Last year, I promised to pare down my own home and turn what was a compilation of eclectic, old and antique dust collectors into a "modern," Deco-inspired, clean-lined, carefree, art-driven environment. And then the hurricane warnings took my budget away when I opted instead for new windows. Not just windows; Florida-code windows with a designer touch. They were available in white or wood finished brown. Forget it. I was into driftwood to match the concrete barrel tile roof. And, of course, "while we're at it, let's open some of those windows up and add French doors." And then there was the pool addition. Since nobody's moving anytime soon due to the tax situation, "let's upgrade the whole house and make some dollars on our investment in a couple of years when the market turns." Sound familiar? One year later I'm still sitting on my floral print down sofa. My silver has been polished yet many times over, and bowls of flowers are my only restitution for civilization from this literal hurricane inside my home. Now, here comes the good part. I hired a professional architect, a contractor and a designer that will see the project through. I have yet to decide on my "new look" - that's down the road with the budget - but editing will be the hardest part. "What to keep and what to toss" decisions have only filled my garage with racks of vintage clothes, side tables, pots, pans, vases, worn linens and a whole raft of Christmas decorations that may never trim a tree again. So the plan is this: first call a "dealer" for the more important pieces, then attempt an estate sale (that's as bad as giving up your weekend to paint a door) and then call an organization to donate the rest to charity. The problem here is that without a lot of guidance one could give up something really needed. Forget it. I might as well turn the place into one of those "Designing For Dummies" shows. Before you know it, I'll be tatting the holes in the linen and applying appliqués. This is my exit. Let the designer call the charity. I'm out of here on a much-needed vacation. Hopefully, this Home & Design issue will inspire you to do the same.

Esther Jackson
Publisher | Editor-in-Chief