My Hiding Place

Sometimes I become a gypsy inside myself—craving color, mismatched schemes, and playful patterns. I decorate with feminine things and jewelry I never wear, just because they make me smile. I love orange mingled with other tones, and fake flowers glowing in the same warm hues.

…because they let me express a part of myself that doesn’t need permission.  A part that loves warmth, softness, and a little chaos. A part that finds joy in beauty simply for beauty’s sake—no rules, no matching, no reason other than it feels right.

In these moments, my home becomes a reflection of my inner world: colorful, feminine, and gently untamed. 🌼🧡

 

Roses from previous summers in a beautiful dish for a soft display...

It’s not about trends or what makes sense to anyone else. It’s about listening to that quiet inner voice that says this brings me joy. So I let the colors clash, I let the flowers stay forever, and I let the space tell my story—one warm, playful corner at a time.

I bought a garment rack and made a closet outside the closet, in a corner of our bedroom—just for my boho cardigans and favorite pieces. Now, every time I walk into the room, I’m greeted by colors and patterns that feel alive.

…layers of joy.  What began as a practical idea turned into a little celebration of who I am. 

Purses, bags, belts, and hair accessories rest there like a curated display, not hidden away but honored—each one telling its own small story. It’s functional, yes, but it’s also art. A bohemian corner that reminds me that beauty doesn’t have to be tucked out of sight to be meaningful.

so easy to find my hair pins now! 

and my abundant collection of scarves!

A happy conundrum… and a happy me. Sometimes minimalist, sometimes bohemian—always choosing what brings joy in the moment. And honestly, I’m learning that it’s okay to be both. ✨🧡