The Bee Cottage Story

by Frances Schultz

  Inexpensive plastic dividers substitute for fancy built-ins.

  Unlike fixed shelves, drawers allow easy storage on the entire surface area, all the way to the back.

  Drawers make for easy-to-access storage. I keep this photo taped to the inside cabinet door so guests and staff know exactly how it goes. (And they still don’t do it.)

  Every little bit counts. Pot lids and roasting pans are kept in the small cabinet above the stove.

  Chapter 22

  The Master Bedroom

  The bedroom. Perhaps the most personal room in the house, and the place where one might feel most loved—or most lonely. At the outset of Bee and me, this room was the most blatant reminder of my recent romantic demise. There I was, just me and my pillows, and the Homer & Jethro country song in my head, “I’ve Got Tears in My Ears From Lying on My Back in My Bed While I Cry Over You.” Actually when I did think of that silly song it made me chuckle . . . a little. Relationship status aside, I do consider the bedroom a haven. The bed is for lullabies and love, not Seinfeld reruns.

  At 13 x 14, the bedroom is not huge, but it holds a king bed, two side tables, a dresser, an armoire, a bench, two chairs, and five lamps, which is kind of amazing. The bad news is 7 ½-foot ceilings. I can stand flat-footed and touch the ceiling. I am 5’10”, but still. Another challenge is a part of the ceiling sloping down under the eaves exactly where the bed goes. “Awkward,” as my niece would say. I keep telling myself these quirks are part of Bee’s charm.

  The way to deal with low ceilings is to lead the eye up. The way to deal with an irregular ceiling or wall is to incorporate it into your design or to ignore it. I incorporated it and then ignored it. A half-canopy camouflages the awkward wall contour, creating height and a dash of drama. I also like the feeling of a small canopy that is open and yet also cozy and sheltering.

  The master bedroom’s wonky ceiling begged a wonky treatment. Draping a half-canopy at an angle was an easy solution. The bench at the foot of the bed I bought at auction from Katharine Hepburn’s estate.

  Bedside tables from Mecox Gardens. Madeline Weinrib rug.

  Window valances bring the eye up as well. Normally I’d put them clear to the ceiling, but the walls cutting in on either side above one window would have required the valance shape to follow, and would have looked, I daresay, awkward. More charming quirks.

  BEFORE

  BEFORE

  Two views of the master bedroom before, awkward angles and all.

  For storage, a single closet and dresser do not quite cover it, so I brought in an armoire I’d had in the city. I still cringe when I think about getting it up the stairs, but here it is, and it does the trick. One quick note: As the armoire was old and the key long lost, its doors would only stay shut with a piece of folded cardboard wedged into them. Tom Samet had a handyman create a magnetic closure with a key permanently installed into the old lock, and it works like an absolute charm. A major convenience from a small adjustment. It’s the little things in life, right?

  This vintage tufted chair came from the Paris flea market and is the perfect perch for morning meditation. Lamp from Ruby Beets in Sag Harbor. Antique armoire behind.

  Far right, this little niche is directly above the living room fireplace, so it may at one time have been a working fireplace, too. Now fitted with a shelf and mirror, it makes a sweet dressing table.

  Nothing is more welcoming or thoughtful than fresh flowers in a bedroom, even if just a single bloom. “Vases” may come in many forms, such as the odd antique aperitif glass.

  The bench at the foot of the bed came from the Katharine Hepburn estate. I bought it at auction along with the two slipper chairs originally in the living room and now in the garden room. I always admired Hepburn’s elegance and independence, as well as her indomitable spirit. Having things that once belonged to her is inspiring to me.

  A collage of cutouts from old calendar illustrations was a lazy girl’s DIY: Images are attached with tiny bits of tape. No fuss, no muss.

  The glass holds it all in place.

  The Carleton V floral print and Michael Devine geometric are favorite fabrics and were recycled from the first East Hampton house, which Atlanta designer and longtime friend John Oetgen helped me with. The walls are semi-gloss Wedgewood Gray (Benjamin Moore), a gray-blue plucked from the Carlton V linen. Designer Tom Samet swears men like blue bedrooms, and in a hopeful moment of what-do-I-have-to-lose, I complied.

  A small tufted chair with a lamp and garden seat next to it is my “quiet place,” where I sit every morning to meditate, pray, and sometimes read. An arched niche in the room was probably once a fireplace, now long covered up. In its place, a shelf and mirror form a sort of dressing table. I cut up illustrations of birds and nests and things from an old calendar and made a collage under the glass on the table. I love it. These small projects that bring such pleasure were a salve to my then-troubled soul. Creating even small bits of beauty calms me and makes me happy, especially when I am down. Makes me think there are at least some things I don’t make a mess of.

  Nobody wants to admit they feel sorry for themselves, but sometimes we just do. Doing something you are good at helps get you out of it, boosts confidence, and in turn helps you get to the next place you need to be. That’s what doing this house did for me.

  The Master Bath

  I use the term “master bath” loosely, because it is really the central bath in the house. Located at the top of the stairs with its door opening directly onto the hall landing, the ideal would be to try to make it look more like a room than a bathroom, and decoratively to continue the theme of the bedroom “suite.” In order to accomplish that, we put an arched wooden cornice above the tub and made a floor-length curtain in the same Michael Devine fabric as the bedroom canopy. Try as I might to keep the door closed, it just doesn’t always happen, so now at least you see the pretty curtain, though the tile floor does sort of give away that a loo might be lurking nearby. But having it even slightly less obvious is somehow a little nicer.

  Shelves above the loo in the master bath hold a collection of “smalls,” paintings and figurines, with bits of moss for color and contrast.

  It’s nice to have a desk by a window, but if that’s not possible, the effect of a window can be created with a grid of framed paintings, in this case pages from my travel sketchbooks. My writing desk is an old laminate dining table with a burlap cover. Kooky antique Venetian lamp. Chairs from Sylvester & Co. are borrowed from dining room.

  Chapter 23

  The Study and Sometimes Guest Room

  I need a dedicated place to write and work. Why was I so reluctant to acknowledge that? Is it because part of me subconsciously believed that writing and art are not valued as highly as “real” work like doctoring, lawyering, or banking, and so how could it deserve its own room? I was neurotically reluctant to commandeer a spare bedroom for my (“frivolous”) work, but eventually, I did just that (selfishly!). As I sit in this very room writing this, and knowing how much work I’ve done here, I laugh today at the thought of feeling I needed to justify myself to myself in my own house for heaven’s sake. I also smile at the analogy. Claiming space for my work was a small act of self-validation, if not entirely banishing a bit of my spurious subconscious, then surely chipping away at it. If you can’t knock off the whole block at once, then chip away. Eventually it will crumble.

  As neither dining room/library nor butler’s pantry/office offered even a modicum of privacy, the only other choice for my writing space was the spare bedroom upstairs. I love having houseguests, but the truth is I spend more time here writing and working on creative projects than needing an overflow guest room. So I’ll repeat myself: decide how you are going to live in a place before you decorate it—my number one design rule.

  A daybed is a good solution for a room that multi-tasks as a study and occasional guest room.

  How I fit all this in here I do not know, but it works. Antique French daybed is great for reading
, napping, and extra guests. Antique wing chair remains in the muslin it came in, but we covered the cushion in a Manuel Canovas check. Small slipper chair in Scalamandré velvet from two houses ago. Pastel above bed is by Wolf Khan.

  BEFORE

  In its former life, a bedroom . . .

  The master and spare of Bee’s bedrooms are at the front of the house. The third bedroom at the back is the official guest room. Most of the time I really only need one guest room.

  The plan was that if I could figure how to get a desk, a daybed (for naps and for overflow guests), a dresser, and a chair or two in the spare bedroom, then the spare bedroom could also work as my study. Of course there is a radiator right where the desk should go, along with other, ahem, charming architectural quirks. One corner of the room, where the door is, is catty-cornered. So there would be nothing to do but arrange around it. And as with the master bedroom, the 7 ½-foot ceilings slope under the eaves. Once again the answer is to make the eye go up. High-backed wing chairs, obelisk étagères, and tall desk lamp lend verticality. I ignore the sloping eaves. I can hear my mother, “Don’t call attention to it, and no one else will either.” I just hope people don’t bump their heads.

  After trying every conceivable arrangement, it all fits, and if I do say so myself, it is a triumph. It is a triumph, however, only possible with “Magic Sliders.” Those stick-on silicone discs are genius. You attach them to the bottoms of furniture legs, and you can, as it says on the package, move everything as if on wheels! As seen on TV! I have them on everything; otherwise I would be in traction.

  To further expand the space and enhance the light, a large mirror is hung above the dresser, giving the effect of another window as it reflects the one across from it. I love a mirror hung opposite a window. The huge gilded frame reaches nearly to the ceiling, and I am the first to say it is faintly ridiculous here—as it would belong better above a grand sideboard in some Georgian manor house or similar. Well, I say to the mirror, love the one you’re with. And why be predictable?

  Stake Your Claim

  Okay, so here’s a thought.

  Take a minute to think about what it is you love doing but deny yourself because you think it has no value or is not “productive” somehow. Listen, if you love it, then it’s in your heart. If it’s in your heart, then it’s in your soul and it’s part of your purpose. Following your heart means leading the life you were meant to live, and that might mean letting go of the life you thought you were supposed to live (to paraphrase Joseph Campbell). That might mean recognizing you need a room of your own, an hour of your own, a garden, a dog, an easel, a food processor. Whatever it means to you today, tomorrow, five years from now, listen to that.

  Every one of us has a saboteur lurking within; recognizing it is the first step to defeating it, or at least to using it to our advantage. When we design our houses in a way that supports and validates who we are and what we do, there is less room for the saboteur to assert itself and more room for your true self to shine.

  As this room and the master are adjacent, and as both rooms are visible from the stair landing, I felt they should be treated decoratively as a suite. The palette is predominantly blue, gray, and white, with the study getting a shot of yellowy-green picked up from a Wolf Khan landscape and repeated in a painted dresser. The high gloss Palladian Blue (Benjamin Moore) goes from the stairway and hall into the study.

  I had wanted to put the desk under the window, but there was the radiator. So I created the idea of a window by hanging sixteen identically framed watercolors in a grid, like windowpanes, above the desk. The pieces are framed pages from my travel sketchbooks and of interest likely to no one but me, but they are treasured mementoes, and there is a story in every one.

  The sketchbook pages are framed with spacers between the mat and the paper, so they appear to float. I hang most of my own art, but hired a pro to execute this grid, which would have driven me crazy.

  Incorporating into your décor these small reminders of your and your family’s fond memories is a way our homes can be made to inspire and encourage us. Another example in this same room is the desk. It is my mother’s old breakfast table, and using it as my writing table is a tribute not just to her but to family, and history, and, well, just to making what you have work. But most of all I like to think her spirit is there with me, cheering me on and supervising my syntax. Originally a bright green laminated Parson’s table, the desk’s size and scale were good but the color wrong. A burlap tablecloth solves the problem and provides storage hidden beneath. An opening in the cloth’s center inverted pleat allows easy access and has a Velcro closure. A covered box holds cards and stationery; otherwise I keep here only what I need in order to write. There is a tray with pencils, pens, pads, and paperclips, and a few objects that are nice to look at when I get the stare-ies, which I sometimes do when I’m meant to be writing.

  The more functions you want a room to provide, the more challenging it is to arrange and furnish. This study-and-sometimes-guest-room took time to sort out, and now that it’s sorted, I can’t imagine it any other way. It was an object lesson in taking one’s own advice to let a problem area simmer while you work in other areas you’re confident about. In Bee’s case, probably the easiest area of all was the “real” guest room, or so-called guest suite, down the hall.

  A bronze doré and enamel candelabrum of my mother’s I had made into a little lamp. Vintage flea market watercolor with bee trinket.

  Notes on Furniture Arranging, Repurposing, and Making Things Work

  Rooms can be puzzles. If you have a lot of pieces that don’t “fit,” just let them float around in there and don’t think about it for a while. Sometimes you’ll return and see a piece that fits, and it all comes together. You’d be surprised.

  If it is a multi-tasking home-office/bedroom space, keep linens and pillows in a nearby closet for easy access. And be sure there is a chair, a light, and some sort of nightstand or table beside the bed.

  This large gilded mirror is a bit unexpected, but I love how it reflects the light of the window opposite. Painted chest came from my old house in Tarboro.

  Be open to using furniture or objects in unexpected ways. For example, a mirror you might normally picture in a living or dining room might work in a home office. A sofa or loveseat in a dining room might work. A stove in a bedroom . . . nah. But you see what I mean.

  If a piece of art is not working for you or for the room, consider changing the frame. The Wolf Khan drawing I loved had a big gold frame that I didn’t love. Reframing it made all the difference, and now the drawing shines instead of the frame.

  Skirted tables are great for storage, but organize the stuff so it is easily accessible and pin a discreet little list on or near the table to remind you what’s under there.

  Chapter 24

  The Guest Suite

  As mentioned, I’d planned to begin my second marriage in this house. That didn’t happen, sadly, and my fiancé’s sons, for whom the guest room was substantially destined, never did stay here either. But at the very beginning of the renovations I was still expecting them, so I had them in mind when I started. Funnily enough it is the one area I had total clarity on from the start. I had–and have–deep affection for those young men, and G was a good father. We had fun together. In retrospect I wonder if there is a parallel between the clarity of my feeling for G’s boys and the confidence with which I decorated “their” room. In that vein, I wonder if there might be clues in our rooms that echo other issues in our lives?

  A quasi-nautical theme appealed in an obvious way because the house is near the ocean, but also because of the room’s diminutive size. It is small for a house but big for a boat, so instead of a small guest room, it is large stateroom. Other optimistically interpreted architectural attributes of the 9-by-12-foot room with 7-foot ceilings is that it is cozily (to say the least) tucked under the eaves, making it almost A-framed.

  One good thing about it is that is has two windows, one
of which overlooks the garden. Another is its privacy. From the upstairs landing, a door opens to a small corridor leading to a bathroom, linen closet, built-in set of drawers, and the bedroom. So it is a self-contained suite and works well both practically and decoratively.

  The tiny guest room is cozy, colorful, and comfortable. Custom Leontine Linens give the room personality. The bee appliqué is taken after the cutout in the garden gate. Staffordshire dogs repurposed into lamps. Vintage turquoise glass pitcher.

  Still measuring about 9 x 12, the guest room, after. A small space painted a dark color appears larger because the shadows are less visible, causing the walls visually to recede. (Sounds good to me anyway.) Walls and ceiling in high gloss Benjamin Moore Galapagos Turquoise. The bed legs have stick-on silicone sliders (“Magic Sliders”) making them easy to move.

  I chose a dark, high-gloss turquoise-y blue (Benjamin Moore Galapagos Turquoise) to envelop the bedroom, ceiling included. It reminds me of the ocean, waves and all, thanks to the bumpy old stucco walls. It is counter-intuitive, but dark colors in small spaces minimize shadows, and that visually expands the space. Designer and friend Richard Keith Langham told me that a dark color on the ceiling makes it disappear into the night, and he is right.

  Designer Tom Samet told me to do two things that were so spot-on, they made the rest of the room fall easily into place. One was to order the woven twin beds from Pottery Barn (since discontinued). The second was to paint the built-in drawers in the corridor dark brown, which makes them look like a piece of furniture. The dark chocolate also in the bedroom is a crisp contrast to the white of the sheets and woodwork. Another Tom detail is a piece of glass atop the radiator cover, making it look finished and more furniture-like.