Okay, I’ve heard your unuttered questions, dear friends who have come to my house.
I’ve noticed your surprise and wonder, your silent judging of my style, my taste. Your curiosity mitigated by your good manners, you never dared seek an answer to why, in God’s name, the carpeting in my living-room/dining-room/staircase area happens to be of a pinkish hue.
But here I am, my polite guests, giving you the explanation you’ve been yearning for.
Rewind my life back to my childhood in Italy, in the nineteen something something. Every year, during the Christmas holidays, my family would receive lovely, glittery greeting cards from far-removed relatives living in America, always including Polaroid snap shots of a smiling family near a tall and colorful Christmas tree. All wearing t-shirts or short-sleeved poufy dresses, all sitting on the floor. Unheard of in my apartment in Italy, or anyone else’s for that matter. Who would want to sit on a cold tile or marble floor in December, wearing summer clothes? But the beaming people in the photographs were comfortably sitting or lying on soft, plush wall to wall carpeting! Enough to make my childish heart burst with desire. In Italy, it’s called moquette, and, certainly at that time, it was unusual for anyone to have it, an ambiguous luxury, not at all traditional. Oh, how I wished I lived in a house where I could walk barefoot on a comfy moquette, instead of wearing those stiff winter slippers over argyle socks, lie down near the Christmas tree, opening my gifts sitting on that cushy floor instead of a chair…
An image of complete bliss, including the snow piled high outside the patio doors, a wintry wonderland from a fairy-tale. Or so I believed.
Fast-forward several years, moving to the US as a young woman, a new bride with her own place to decorate. After a series of small apartments with uneven wood or linoleum flooring, I eventually moved to a house that had the coveted moquette! However, it was worn out and thin. At that time I had a new baby girl, barely one-year-old, just starting to take her first steps. Naturally I wanted a super-soft, super-clean rug for her to place her tiny feet on, to be playful and safe. So we rushed to a rug store and purchased new carpeting for the main floor (thankfully, the rugs upstairs were in excellent shape).
Color dilemma. I had eyed a rich rusty orange that warmed my heart. It was called ‘tangerine’ and it was the perfect thickness and softness for my little girl to enjoy (and for me to bring to life my childhood dream).
The day the installers came, I watched them lay out the rolls, my baby in my arms, anticipating the moment I could let her roll on the floor (and join her!). However, once it was all done, my perfect ‘tangerine’ carpeting looked alarmingly like a sea of pink! I was stunned and upset, complained fervently, even had one of the installers run back to the store and bring over the sample of the rug I had chosen, but, sure enough, it looked exactly like the rug just put in. What a difference lighting makes!
But, after all that anticipation, work and time, I didn’t have the heart to undo and re-do, so we kept it. Of course, eventually it grew on me, my daughter loved it, it was soft and warm, and what great fun to play with her dolls on the floor in the living room, by the large picture window, glancing at the squirrels frolicking on the branches of the majestic oak tree in the backyard. My American rug dream come true.
Naturally, no shoes were allowed in my house (slippers optional), thus it remained spotless and comforting for years.
Fast-forward once again. Because of a series of unfortunate events, we needed to move from the house I adored in the town I loved. Broken-hearted, I decided to transform the house we moved to into a complete replica of my beloved one, to cocoon in the recreation of the place that had brought me so much joy for a few brief years. Besides, I was blessed with a second beautiful little girl, only eight months old then, as I was to adjust to life in another town. Enter the same rug store. I demanded, much to their surprise (I was a customer they didn’t quite forget, considering the drama) that they install exactly the same carpeting I had before.
And so it was done. ‘Tangerine’ carpeting colored all of my main floor and crawled merrily up the stairs, softening my new baby’s tentative first steps.
Of course I still notice and sigh at the tint, still bear the unspoken comments of my guests.
Sure, I could replace it with another color; I could even remove it altogether and let trendy hardwood make its own classy statement.
But I will not erase the memories of my childhood dreams, and of my children’s precious babyhood.
Now you know.