I'm hopelessly addicted to do-it-yourself remodeling shows. Why, you might ask? Several reasons, but I will tell you, the number one reason is that the evil part of my brain just LOVES to see it when people totally screw it up. I know it's wrong, but my repressed interior designer (majored in it for half a semester, you know!) loves to see what other people think is "aesthetically pleasing", and I love to sit my plump hiney on the couch and judge them. And watch them judge each other, too!
One of my favorites, Moving Up, was back on this weekend, and let me tell you, after a long hiatus, it was worth the wait. Not because I longed to see the hard work that these families put in to beautify their new homes, lord no. I wait for the bitchy commentary from the previous owners. Me-to tha-yeow!
If you've never seen it, let me give you the quick and dirty run-down. The show focuses on three families, we'll call them A, B and C. So A buys B's house, B buys C's house, and C buys someone else's house but no one really seems to care what they do to it. The premise of the show is that once the new owners have renovated the home to "their" style (and I use that term VERY loosely, folks. Very.) the previous owners come back through with the host (the lovely Doug Wilson, formerly of Trading Spaces) and critique the changes.
Ok, here's the rub...well, aside from the fact that people actually have the gall to say on national television that "2800 square feet is not enough space to raise a baby". I don't understand the how these former owners don't get the fact that they DON'T LIVE IN THESE HOMES ANYMORE. This weekend's episode had a real winner, by the name of Erin. Erin had a blood red wall in her bedroom, and while I did like the way she had it decorated, I can't say that I would be able to sleep with an entire wall of AB positive above me. But hey, that's just me. So delightful Erin walks through her former home, which the new owners had done a very nice, albeit bland job on. Upon seeing the bedroom, which has now been painted a cool blue shade, demands "where the HELL is MY red wall!". WTF, lady? What do you mean YOUR red wall?
Um, well sweetheart, seeing as it is no longer your house, it really doesn't matter where the red wall is. (But if I was taking guesses, I'd say it was under 15 coats of primer...) What the heck is wrong with people on these shows? Why would you expect the new homeowners to keep your paint colors? Are these folks so delusional that they think their decorating styles are the best ever and everyone should just LOVE them and keep them no matter what? Please.
The end of the episode has the the host sitting with the current owners, showing the tape of the former owners doing the "walk through", and I cannot fathom how these people don't understand that no, the former owners are probably not going to like whatever the new owners do no matter how nice it is, because let's face it, it's hard to see your memories wiped away. I also can't understand why these same people get all pissy and flip off the monitors and curse at the TAPE of the former owners, just because they don't like the new decor. Get over yourselves people!
The King and I got in to a heated discussion watching this episode, and he alleges that I would be the same way if I was in the situation, but I like to think I wouldn't be. I like to think that I'd be open to the fact that hey, the new owner of my house might not like my cute little Americana themed room, or they might not like my bright bathroom or dark bedroom. And yes, it would hurt to see the prince's bedroom, the room that we so lovingly and painstakingly prepared for his arrival, the room where I spent many a night rocking him to sleep while we both cried (he, from being a baby, I, from sheer exhaustion) gutted and all, I am smart enough to know that for every memory I have in my home, they are just that; memories. Memories that I have locked away in my mind that no one will ever take away from me. Once we're gone from here, I like to think that another set of parents will make new memories in this house.
I also like to think that if I was going to be taped for television, I might exercise an ounce of restraint and not tell a video monitor to f**k off (I'm looking at you, Erin), but who knows. I might be PMSing that day, and then all bets are off.
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