We're going way back in ancient history here, folks. The house I grew up in was a big, old, woodframe house built around the turn of the century. (The 1900 one, not the 2000 one.) High ceilings, hardwood floors, big windows, big closets, french doors, separate stairs for the maid -- fabulous.
The one drawback was that the walls were a little... well..., they were plaster walls, and there was settling, so painting them would only enhance the imperfections. The only option was to wallpaper each and every room in our two-story, four-bedroom, nine-foot-ceilinged house. I can't believe my parents' marriage withstood it.
I present to you now -- The Bedroom Wallpapers of My Childhood.
Let's start will Billi.
(How cute is she in those pigtails?!)
I don't know if you can tell, but that's green and yellow Holly Hobby wallpaper. Or as Billi said it, "Geen and lellow."
I don't know why she got a chairrail in her room. I didn't get a chairrail. Damn, spoiled youngest child. I also don't know what the hell that huge bookcase was doing in her room. I mean, she couldn't read. What was she going to put on it? Oh, that's right -- the thousands and thousands of stuffed animals that were showered upon the youngest child.
I am so sick of her. Let's move on.
Purple shag rug!
This is clearly the most tan that Spikette has ever been in her life. I love the knee socks -- hott! But mostly I'm glad that, by this age, Mom had stopped cutting Spikette's bangs herself. That poor girl has the most unfortunate collection of school pictures. "Oh, just let me trim your bangs so we can see your eyes in your picture!" Ruuuuuuuun, Forest! Ruuuuuuuuun!
That wallpaper is so truly disco. And yes, her bedspread is purple velvet. What -- you didn't know Spikette was a porn star in the late 70s?
Awwwwwwww, lookit that adorable, little imp. It's baby Wenchie! I remember that outfit. And that hair -- gah! I am rocking those Mickey Mouse sneakers. God, they're filthy. Must've been one of those articles of clothing that I developed an unhealthy attachment to and wore until they fell off me. Like the olive green, paisley pants.
Anyhoo, yes, those are pastel, gingham flowers on my bubble gum pink wallpaper. (Matching pink, gingham curtains not shown.) What I wouldn't give to still have that pink, chenille bedspread!
You will notice the railing attached to the side of the bed. That's so I wouldn't fall out of bed. Now, if you're thinking that I look a little old to still be falling out of bed, bear in mind that, to this day, I can trip on a bare floor and fall over while standing completely still. Grace, thy name is Wenchie.
Know where my incredibly-ornate-for-a-child's-room headboard came from? The dump on Washington Island, Wisconsin. It's brass and wrought iron, and it was painted some horrible color when my Dad found it. So he fixed it up and put it in the bedroom of a five-year old girl. Weird, huh? Well, I gotta cut him some slack -- Target and IKEA didn't exist back then.
What I really hated in that room was the radiator. See it dominating the background like a cast iron monster waiting to pounce? That damn thing was the bane of my childhood existance. For whatever reason, all the air that got into the system collected in that radiator, which means that the hot water was not in the radiator. We had to drain the air out of it several times a day, and it still got freezing cold! Thirty years later, I'm still not warm.
Not pictured is the sprawling Barbie commune that took up one half of my very big bedroom from age four to age fourteen. Ocassionally, the Barbies would load up the camper and drive over to Billi's room, but Holly Hobby hated those bitches, so the camping trips were often cut short.
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