The Problem with Paint

When I was younger, and envisioned my adult house, I always presumed I would be the main decorator and my husband (if I had one) would simply nod and smile and occasionally put up a fight over a throw pillow and that would be that. Then I met Evan.

When we were dating (and very soon after, engaged), for fun we would head over to the bookstore, snuggle up on a sofa there, and pour over architecture and interior design books coming up with ideas for a house. Evan, you see, is an architect, and I learned very early on there will be very little smiling and nodding when it came to all things house. Very fortunately, we have extremely similar tastes in materials and furniture. Occasionally I like something a little whimsical or eclectic for his tastes. Occasionally he likes something masculine or off-the-wall for my tastes. (For example, he has an unusually strong liking for René Magritte. At one point he wanted to hang a print of this painting over our bed. I politely declined by saying something diplomatic like, “That’s the most ridiculous thing I have ever seen I will absolutely not let it in my house, much less in the bedroom where that apple will be staring at me all night.”)

Thus far, we’ve survived eight years of marriage, building a house including two additions and are on our third with no major disagreements regarding materials, layout, furnishings or decor. Except when it comes to choosing a paint color.

In every single room we’ve had… discussions about what color to paint. He’ll pick out paint chips and I’ll hate them. I’ll pick out paint chips and he’ll call my choices irrational. The one time he conceeded was in our master bath – I chose a lovely shade of slate blue. He painted one section and called me in to tell me it looked like an easter egg had exploded all over the wall. He admitted later that he liked the color once it was throughout the room.

We’re finishing up what will likely be our last addition for 15 years or so (just in time to repaint some of the spaces that are looking a bit dull), and we’ve been at it again. Evan wants the room to have a cabin-like feel, so to him any color outside the beige and brown family doesn’t fit. I’m pushing for either a rusty orange or something cool and bright to contrast with all the warm wood tones.

We’ll see who wins. He brought home a giant swatch book of paint colors he had at work for me to look through. It’s hard for me not to choose or dismiss a color based solely on its name. Reddish? Love it! But if I’m going to convince him to pick my color, I’ll have to come up with a better reason than that.