Who hasn’t opened a home magazine, lusted after some gorgeous decor and yearned: “I want that”?
The fantasy lasts until we think of the cost (roughly that of the kids’ college fund), the hassles of tracking down the coveted item or of having an artist re-create it, the shipping nuisance and the risk that it will turn out uglier than Shrek. We remind ourselves that this lovely furnishing has been shot at just the right angle in just the right light, then photoshopped.
Reality rains down like an ice shower until we slap ourselves into cognition and turn the page.
But not my friend Susan Beane. When she falls for something she has to have, whether in a magazine, book or art museum, she goes for it: hand-painted dome ceiling tiles, stained-glass doors to her library, custom brass cabinet knobs shaped like griffin heads. Going for it partly explains why she lives in the kind of house many of us dream about.
Now, I’ve done my share of custom projects — built-in bookcases, unique tile work, faux finishing — but Susan raises custom decorating to an art form. “It’s so enticing. You see or dream up this great, unique idea, and you want it in your home,” she says with this enthusiasm that makes me want whatever she’s having. She estimates she’s done more than 20 custom projects in her current home, all inspired by seductive images.
Eager to show me her latest, a custom headboard, she squires me down the hall, explaining that for years she’s searched retail stores, antique shops and online for The Perfect Headboard. Nothing hit her until she saw this eclectic, wood-carved Indian art piece doubling as a headboard on the cover of an old Elle Decor magazine. While most rational people would have said “That’s lovely” and flipped ahead, Susan took off, cover art in hand, and hunted down artist Usman Zia of Foreign Accents in Denver to re-create the piece.
After nearly a year of faxes, phone calls, headaches, delays and clarifications, the almost- finished piece — she’s waiting on two carved inserts — is in her bedroom, making a fabulous statement.
“It’s gorgeous, but didn’t you mind waiting?” I asked, patience being a quality I traded in at birth for thick hair.
“The wait is typical,” she said, adding she’s been waiting three years for the final trim for her custom front doors.
“You can’t rush these people,” she said. “You can’t expect artists to behave like accountants.”
“Does Michael like it?” I asked, referring to her husband, whose design sense, like my husband, Dan’s, hasn’t evolved beyond Neanderthal.
“He didn’t know what was wrong with the old one,” she said. “Whenever we went shopping, he would say that one’s fine. So’s that one. He didn’t care.”
“Sounds familiar.”
“Can you imagine if Michael and Dan were roommates? The place would be a dump!”
We crack up then stifle ourselves as Michael comes in.
“I never pass a chance to be with two women in my bedroom,” he says, all guy that he is.
“How do you like the bed?” I ask.
“Whenever Susan starts one of these projects, I just roll my eyes,” he says. “But I never stop her because it makes her so happy.”
Men, are you listening? That attitude more than makes up for any taste deficits. Maybe we can we clone it?
Syndicated columnist Marni Jameson is the author of “The House Always Wins” (Da Capo). You may contact her through .
The price of originality
To decide whether a custom project is worth the trouble, I asked my friend Susan Beane, who has overseen dozens of custom creations for her own home, for a few insights. These are her tips for commissioning custom work.
Pick your projects carefully. Try to find what you want ready-made. Take on only custom projects you have passion for and can’t find anywhere else.
Find an artist. Ideally, you want someone local. Beane asks at home stores she visits whether they offer custom work. She also secures the artists’ names and keeps a running list. Another way to find a custom craftsperson is through another artist. Ask a tile mason you like, for instance, if he knows a good faux finisher. Because artists often aren’t technically plugged in, you can’t count on finding many of the good ones online. Avoid working with artists’ reps; you’ll pay a middleman and have less direct involvement.
Draw the project from all perspectives — with dimensions. Explain what you want in excruciating detail.
Put everything into e-mail, including recaps of your conversations. “Trust me,” Beane says. “You will be sending the e-mails back as a reminder.”
Get a written timeline. Build in stages where you want to review the project. But be flexible.
Get all the artist’s numbers. That includes home, cell, office, wife, girlfriend, parole officer. They get busy and flaky and go AWOL for periods of time.
Schmooze. This may mean listening to all the details about someone’s dental work, but do it and act like you care. Compliment them often and bring up concerns gently. Most artists take notes and comments very personally.
Expect an investment. Not just money for a one-of-a-kind work, but significant time, effort and frustration. Is it worth it? “When people compliment me about a custom piece, I just breathe deep and think, ‘You have no idea,'” Beane says. “But then, every time I look at my custom projects, I love them.”
