Welcome to the Dollhouse

One of my good friends has a thing for small rooms. Her last bedroom, which is currently sitting empty in my apartment awaiting our new roommate, was so small it fit only a full-size bed, a dresser made for small children, and a tiny bedside table. I don't know how she did it, but she managed to decorate the room in such a way that it felt warm and cozy, not cluttered and overwhelming as I imagine it would be should I ever inhabit it. (For the record, I visit the empty room quite frequently these days and daydream about claiming it as my office. I envision it magically fitting a parsons desk, a chaise lounge and two bookshelves over a sisal rug)

There's something so wonderfully whimsical about small rooms though. They remind me of my childhood and forts and tree-houses that I always refused to climb up into because I was pretty sure it would involve bugs. I used to have a fairly large walk-in closet in my bedroom that my mother quickly claimed as her 'sewing room'. When she wasn't paying attention, I reclaimed the space for myself and set about rearranging the bins of fabric and buttons to suit my new life as a small-room inhabitant. No sooner had I settled in, when my mom would kick me out. 

This happened at least 16 times over the course of my 7 years in that house. 

But I grew up, acquired more stuff (mostly books and shoes) and now I just cannot picture myself in a tiny room. I came upon this delightful bedroom on Marie Claire Maison and it made me reconsider my stance. 

Bright and colorful and exploding with patterns of all shapes and sizes, it's reminiscent of a Betsey Johnson ad from the mid-'90s. I'm ready to forfeit my dream of an office for this as a guest-bedroom.  Think my new roommate will mind?

Image: Marie Claire Maison