Earlier this month I read The Nesting Place by Myquillyn Smith. (If you're curious—as I was—about her unusual first name, she wrote an entire post about it.)
Myquillyn is the popular home decorating blogger also known as The Nester. She's lived in 14 homes since she got married, many of them rentals. The focus of her book is how to make the most of where you're living no matter how temporary or how small your budget.
I enjoy flipping through home decorating books occasionally and this was no exception. I especially liked how she named the various places that she'd lived such as "The Apartment I Thought I Was Too Good For." While a fun distraction, the ideas in these types of books typically never stick with me. So it was shocking to find one little part in this one that made me go: Huh. In discussing the idea of painting furniture, she writes:
"I wouldn't tell you to take your first risk with a hand-me-down antique. But an eight-dollar yard-sale table that sat in your garage for six months? What do you have to lose?"
Myquillyn sums her redecorating philosophy this way: "The moral of the story: you can't ruin something you don't like, especially if it doesn't have much value to begin with."
That might seem obvious, but it felt like a revelation to me.
What writer doesn't have that fear—even for a second—about ruining a fresh, white piece of paper? What painter never hesitates for a moment after placing a new canvas on her easel?
Maybe it makes a little bit of sense to fear ruining something new, although you have to admit that at least in these common examples, the stakes are pretty small. Even if you were to ruin your paper, your canvas, your [insert starting material here], you could always get another for not too much money.
But old, broken down stuff? Yeah, I still worry about ruining that even though that makes no sense at all.
Soon after reading this book, I got a few drops of paint on a pair of jeans. Some of the spots came out, but not all.
This bit of advice "you can't ruin something you don't like" kept swirling around in my head.
This pair of jeans were ruined. I mean, I'd still wear probably them around the house (I hate shopping for jeans that much), but I wouldn't wear them to a restaurant (even a casual one) or shopping. Under normal circumstances, these jeans would be destined for the bottom of the pile in the closet.
But here's the thing:
I've been wanting to embroider a pair of jeans forever, but I was afraid I might ruin them.
But if they were already ruined ....
I pulled out my box of embroidery floss.
The bottoms of these particular jeans had always been a tad long, but I hadn't bothered to hem them. But now that they were ruined, I boldly chopped off about an inch from the bottom and started hemming with bright green embroidery floss. I've been adding flowers free form as I watch TV. It's slow going, but fun. They're not perfect, but that's okay. They make me happy to look at. I'll probably enjoy wearing them when I'm finished. You can't ruin it if it's already ruined.