New Season, New Face, New Floors

Happy allergy season, everyone! It’s not that I’m complaining about the warm weather – that would be inappropriate, given the plight of my family up north – but the flowers are FILLING my sinuses, and it’s a little unpleasant. If you need me, I’ll be hiding inside, clutching my bottle of Zyrtec.

This season is happy, though, because I feel like a new woman. After years of complaining, we finally replaced our gross carpet and tile with engineered hardwoods!

You may recall that it used to look like this:
Colorful living room and dining room via Glitter and Goat Cheese

And now it looks like THIS:
Stephanie Shore Fisher's living room with new hardwood floors and Lulu & Georgia Lalita rug (via Glitter and Goat Cheese)

I swear, a choir of angels bursts into jubilant song every time I walk into my house. We haven’t put the baseboards back in yet, so I’m waiting to write a full post until that’s done, but I just couldn’t resist sharing now. They look SO. GOOD. By the way, it’s obvious that when I say “we put in hardwoods” and “we need to put in the baseboards,” I mean my husband, right? Speaking of angels – that man is such a dreamboat.

So, beyond the new floors, I also feel like a new woman because I have a new eye! Or, a new eyelid, anyway. Remember the droopy eyelid (ptosis) I mentioned here? I got the repair surgery last month! Because before-and-afters are fun, here’s an extremely grainy and unflattering selfie from before Christmas (I CANNOT BELIEVE I’M POSTING THIS HORROR) and a more flattering selfie from last week:

Before:
Droopy right eyelid before ptosis surgery (via Glitter and Goat Cheese)

After:
Stephanie Shore Fisher with a blunt bob (via Glitter and Goat Cheese)

The ptosis was MUCH more noticeable in person, but it’s still a pretty big difference, right? The after photo also displays my new blunt bob, and my newly grown-in and reshaped eyebrows (thanks to LiBrow and Alyson Howard-Hoag)! Like I said – new woman.

Oh, and I can’t forget – drumroll, please – my new purse:
See by Chloe Vicki Small Bucket Bag in Black (via Glitter and Goat Cheese)

Isn’t she gorgeous? It’s the small Vicki bucket bag by See by Chloe, and I got it during a double-sale at Bloomingdale’s. I always get a little panicky after a semi-large purchase, but I’m a carry-the-same-bag-every-day-all-year-long kind of gal, so it makes sense for me to invest in a quality piece. Plus, the scent of good leather makes me weak in the knees.

The littlest things can make such a big difference, and I’m feeling pretty good these days. I’m going for runs, washing my face every night, wearing heels … These things are all pretty good indicators of my emotional well-being. You guys must have things you only do when you’re in a good mental space, right? What are they?

Things are OK here in Atlanta, so we’re not in a massive rush to get up to New York, but we’d certainly like it to happen sooner rather than later. I’m still looking for a job, so if you know anyone in the entertainment or lifestyle industry who might want to hire a web editor/content manager, please send them my portfolio/resume site: stephanie-fisher.com. Alternatively, if you know of an opening for an audio engineer/sound editor, here’s Brad’s site: brad-fisher.com.

Ah! One more thing! I set up a Shop Glitter & Goat Cheese page with pictures of/links to all my favorite home, fashion and beauty products. Hope you’ll check it out!

Prewar in NYC: The Dream & the Design

When I dream of our possible future in Brooklyn, my dreams have a very specific aesthetic. Our home is a classic prewar brownstone, chock full of original details. The ceilings are high and the floorboards are wide. Light streams in through huge and plentiful windows. (Every room has a southern exposure, of course.) And our decor is an eclectic mix of mid-century lines, vintage accents and bold textiles.

You know – kind of like this.

The living room of Mike D's eclectic Brooklyn townhouse as featured in the New York Times
(Mike D’s Cobble Hill townhome via The New York Times)

I’m no fool. I know the hefty price tag a prewar brownstone commands, and I’m well aware that we’re more likely to end up in a dark, dank basement apartment. But that doesn’t mean a girl can’t dream.

Prewar, generally speaking, refers to apartment buildings built before World War II. If we’re being specific, anything built before World War I is pre-prewar, and buildings from before the Spanish-American war in 1898 are pre-pre-prewar. But when you take an overarching look at the architecture of New York living spaces from the 1850s to the 1940s, most of them share a few key characteristics.

The ornate, hand-carved moldings …

Kerri Russell 1860s Brooklyn townhome via Elle Decor
(Kerri Russell’s 1860s Brooklyn townhome via Elle Decor)

Bedroom in Hilary Robertson Brooklyn townhome
(Hilary Robertson’s Fort Greene townhome via The New York Times)

The sky-high ceilings …

Brooklyn Heights townhouse from Rum magazine via Dintelo
(A Brooklyn Heights townhome from RUM magazine, via Dintelo)

Michelle James 1890s Brooklyn brownstone via Remodelista
(Michelle James’ 1890s Brooklyn brownstone via Remodelista)

Manhattan brownstone by Jan Eleni Interiors
(A Manhattan brownstone by Jan Eleni Interiors)

Lena Corwin and Josh Dreier Fort Greene Italianate brownstone via Remodelista
(Lena Corwin and Josh Dreier’s late-1800s Fort Greene brownstone via Remodelista)

The massive windows …

Cobble Hill townhouse by Blair Harris Interior Design
(A Cobble Hill townhouse by Blair Harris Interior Design)

Hilary Robertson Brooklyn townhome
(Hilary Robertson‘s Brooklyn townhome again)

Christina and Simon Anderson 1890s Park Slope Victorian via The New York Times
(Christina and Simon Anderson’s 1890s Park Slope Victorian via The New York Times)

A marble mantelpiece with an arched antique mirror over it is basically my dream.

Ali Cayne Greenwich Village townhouse via Domino
(Ali Cayne’s Greenwich Village townhouse via Domino)

Throw in a crystal chandelier, and I’m in heaven.

Ali Cayne Greenwich Village townhouse with chandelier via Domino
(Ali Cayne’s townhouse via Domino again)

19th-century Park Slope brownstone by Roman and Williams via 6sqft
(19th-century Park Slope townhouse by Roman and Williams / photo via 6sqft)

In the absence of a massive mirror, a single piece of large-scale art can work, too.

Francesa Connolly 1890s Brooklyn brownstone via Elle Decor
(Remodelista‘s Francesca Connolly’s 1890s Brooklyn brownstone via Elle Decor)

Elspeth Benoit and David Bevan 1870s Cobble Hill townhouse
(Elspeth Benoit and David Bevan’s 1870s Cobble Hill townhouse via The New York Times

And don’t forget those solid wood floors.

Mike D Cobble Hill townhouse via The New York TImes
(Mike D’s townhouse again)

Fine. I’ll settle for parquet.

Boerum Hill apartment via Airbnb
(Daniel Kanter‘s 1890 Boerum Hill apartment – you can stay in this one!)

Brooklyn Heights townhouse dining room from Rum magazine via Dintelo
(Brooklyn Heights townhouse via Dintelo again)

Photo overload, I know. I’m sorry. I just can’t get enough. If you can’t either, you should check out my prewar Pinterest board.

So, what do you think? I’m betting you wouldn’t kick one of these brownstones out of bed, either. Anyone want to lend me a few million dollars?

Our Downstairs Floors: My Great Tragedy

I have a confession to make.

Despite all the time, effort and dolla bills we’ve poured into our home since we bought it about a year and a half ago, I’m still a little bit embarrassed when people see it for the first time.

I know this is stupid. Our home is lovely and we’re lucky to have it. I know this. But here’s the thing: our floors are frigging disgusting.

Tile hallway

EW.

Carpeted dining room with ghost chairs and Ikea Rast hacks

GROSS.

UGH.

I should see all the things I love about those rooms. But all I see is nasty tile with dirty grout, and stained, smelly carpets. And they disgust me. Call me ungrateful and negative if you must, but I can’t help it.

I realize that there are things I could do to improve our floors. I could paint the grout. I could steam the carpets. I know. But the thing is, I hate them so much that I don’t want to spend any time or money on them. I just want them GONE.

Some day, somehow, we’re going to rip up all that tile and all that carpet, and our whole downstairs will be beautiful, beautiful hardwoods. I dream about it every day. Oh, how they’ll shine! They will always smell like lemons! I will have such colorful, beautiful area rugs and all my furniture will POP!

I have it all figured out in my head. Of course, I love dark, dark hardwoods – I mean, I’m only human.

But you’ve gotta know yourself. And I know I’m not going to clean my floors often enough to keep up with the dust and hair and dirt particles that are apparently attracted to dark floors like magnets. No, I need something a little lower maintenance.

Theoretically, it’d be nice if they sort of matched our upstairs floors. You’ve seen them. They look like this:

Office with lavender walls and hardwoods

They’re engineered, and Brad isn’t a fan. Apparently, they have beveled edges? I never would have noticed. What I do notice is that they’re a warmer and a bit more on the orange side. And I could get down with that. I love all of these:

But then I look at cooler, lighter floors, and I love those, too. These are some of my favorites:

White oak hardwoods via Little Green Notebook

Via Little Green Notebook (her flooring is from Lumber Liquidators)

Aren’t they airy and bright and wonderful? And I bet the dust just blends right in! But since I tend to decorate with cooler colors, I’d probably be better off with something just a tad warmer. I think these are perfect:

Hollywood Regency hallway via Lonny

Via Lonny

Of course, I have no idea what that is. Red oak, maybe? American cherry? With my luck, I probably want the most expensive thing out there.

So, ya know, I just need to dig up a few thousand dollars (or something? We haven’t gotten a quote yet), and then this thang is gonna happen. Any day now.

What’s the great tragedy of your home? (You know, that’s the thing that makes you say, “I would love my house, if it wasn’t for the [blank].”)