Spotlight on Historical Concepts
Hey, it’s Friday. It’s cold outside and your lips are really grossly chapped (or is that just mine?). Let’s you and me escape to the country for a little weekend getaway, hey? Surely we’re deserving.
Our hosts are (kindly) Historical Concepts, a design firm based in Atlanta, and boy do they serve up a heaping dose of that good old renovated farmy-pie.
The tour could plausibly consist solely of the image below, because it’s that tasty. Brass is really picking up my sticks lately, and so I’m all for the stately lanterns serving as beacons into the skillful design that exists within. But let’s not discount the lush planters, neither, or that basket weave mat that, in a state of hunger, I may have fleetingly mistaken for a pie (see? Pie).
Onto a living area, and one which is so gloriously neutral at that. I mean this in all sincerity: I think it takes real mastery to build a color palette that feels richly varied, though it actually exists of similar hues. In reality, you’ve got your white, your creamer, your cafe au lait, your unroasted bag of beans, your caramel frap, and after all those insidiously dumb java metaphors, the result is still one that interests the eye, rather than bores it. God someone should make me stop writing these.
The palette above is carried into the dining area, which, well, it’s good. It’s straddling the line between luxe and farm-barn exceedingly well, in my opinion.
This nook is perhaps more of the farm than the luxe, but it’s sweet and it’s cozy and yet doesn’t, miraculously enough, make me question its cleanliness.
But holy patron saint of white stuff and other things; this is farmhouse kitchen at its finest. At its finest.
While the space below is lake house subtlety.
Ha, jokes, that stuff is not subtle.
Another kitchen from H. Concepts, this one more Julia Child fab than wire basket barn. I wish they would just stop it with that turquoise trim already.
But they won’t, nor will they desist with the cheery green.
Enjoy the weekend, do. Try something new, light a candle you adore, spend some time with a person who lifts you up, and remind yourself, finally, that the only flavor feet come in is ugly. So relax, ya bunion. Bye!
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