Thou still unravish'd ceiling of quietness; Thou foster-plaster of silence and slow acceptance; Architectural historian, who canst thus express; A popcorny tale more salty than our rhyme…
With apologies to John Keats' Grecian Urn, it was while lying supine on the couch, gazing at my condo ceiling, when those words pinged my soggy noggin back to clarity and I realized that I do, in fact, love my popcorn ceilings. It's a spray-able way to make overhead nothingness into something. My pimpled plafond is a rich, textured universe that, like a majestic oak with its dappled shade, bends and twists light into kinetic sculpture.
Okay, maybe they aren't worthy of that sort of wordy romance – indeed many popcorn ceilings installed before the 1970s contain asbestos – but when one considers that they're splendid at sound absorption and can look pretty cool when glitter is added to the particulate (mostly a creature of California mid-century "Googie" coffee shops, but I have heard of residential applications), they certainly deserve a stay of execution.
New homeowners, in my humble opinion, often make knee-jerk decisions within the first few weeks of occupation. As many architects have told me over the years: wait. Wait and your house will tell you what you need; often it's not what you thought originally.
So, with popcorn ceilings being number one on this list, I now present seven more Residential Stays of Execution.
Walled-in staircases: As good friend (and great architect) James Brown of B+SAi once told me after a few tipples, with myriad regulations and tight budgets combining to clog the creative process, the staircase is often the sole space where a little sculptural fun can be had. For evidence, look no further than these very pages, where sexy staircase photos (with the obligatory blurry person) abound. But, at one time, staircases did nothing more that transport you from one level to another, and it's worth remembering they can still be that banal. Besides, emerging from the inky confines of a dark stairwell to a surprise sunlit second-floor is an architectural gift.
Formica countertops: Now officially an antique, Formica, born in 1913 in Cincinnati, is a wonderful kitchen surface that can last generations; in fact, I've been in many 50- and 60-year-old homes where the wonder laminate still looks, well, wonderful. Perhaps it's the ubiquity of fake wood grain in seventies greasy spoons or the sturdy interior cladding of TTC vehicles that killed it, but in a culinary world dominated by granite countertops, perhaps a return to Formica's inexpensive, quirky-patterned charms will be taken as a bold design statement.
Parquet floors: Many of you, I suspect, were apartment hunting for the first time in the 1970s and 80s. Back then, what was affordable came from the 1950s and 60s, when parquet was king. Should you find yourself with a woodsy gaggle of geometric goodness and a lack of college-age nostalgia, consider a rich ebony stain finished with a high gloss. Your floors will look like a hip urban bistro, and the money you save will justify the $4,000 cappuccino machine.
Coloured appliances: According to the blogosphere, shiny and smooth white refrigerators – not to be confused with the cheap leather-texture kind – are the next big thing. Will they have the power to smash the stainless stranglehold? Perhaps not, but add the rainbow-army advancing by Smeg, Northstar and Big Chill, and is it really a stretch to proudly proclaim you're keeping the bronze or avocado fridge that came with the house?
Vintage home intercom system: Only the most stylish homes of the mid-century period had one of these, and they did much more than summon little Billy down to the dinner table: They piped the wonders of FM easy-listening into every room. Look online, find your local "hacker" community, and ask for suggestions for your old, rusty NuTone … you'll be surprised at the possibilities.
Basement wet bar: While I enjoy having a stage upon which to delight dinner-guests with my mastery of mixology, wine and beer drinkers just don't need that much square footage. Therefore, should you be in the latter camp and find yourself with a vintage wet bar in the basement, consider a fresh juice- and smoothie-station: your guests will gush at the novelty.
Wallpaper: Surely you needn't be told that wallpaper has been back for a decade (and stop calling me Shirley!), but on a recent home tour during Palm Springs Modernism Week, I was reminded at how similar today's patterns are to those of the past. As I commented on what I thought to be strikingly modern wallpaper throughout a lovely condo at "The Sandpiper," the homeowner – a lovely Canadian snowbird with perfect Dynasty-era Linda Evans hair – interrupted to tell me it had all been hung by the previous owners four decades ago, and she had based her decorating around it.
Can you think of more? Like the little milkman door or something on your home's exterior? E-mail me at dave.leblanc@globeandmail.ca, and perhaps I'll share them in a future column, since "Beauty is truth [and] truth beauty."
Dave LeBlanc