Just Do It

The best slogans are concise, directive and radiating vibes of positivity be it through happiness, confidence, or encouragement. That’s why it’s no surprise at all that in addition to their decades of trendsetting transcendence, Nike has nailed the marketing game and will forever be the GOAT in performance branding. This is because they have taken it upon themselves to tell us exactly what we need to hear when we need to hear it. We have an idea to workshop, a goal to reach or a dream to uncover and god-for-Nike-bid are they going to tell us anything else but to Just Do It. 

 

I can’t say I abide by this gold standard slogan in my athletic pursuits, no, I am perfectly comfortable slumming it on the treadmill each day with limited curiosity as to what alternative paths I could take to physical wellness. Where this mammoth of guidance is most prayed to and respected in my personal life, is my home. 

 

Barring interior demolition (at least for now), I seldom back away from design curiosity when it strikes and the satisfaction it boasts is truly extraordinary not only in knowing it was your sweat equity that made a space go from this to that, but also in the comfort that you took a risk that brought with it return. 

 

I impulsively began a project one afternoon (a tried and tested method to getting things done—zero blueprints) which entailed the painting of my hallway. Sparking this choice was the mistake I made months ago not carrying through colour from an adjoining space and instead cutting it off at the hallway in question. Deciding that day I was going to finish the job was planned, changing the colour at the last minute was not. The living room was a handsome hunter green, as was my original intention for this formerly missed opportunity but just before dipping back into its can, I swerved and went for yellow. With only Rachel Greens mothers’ words to cling to (“I’m at my best when I’m surrounded by jewel tones!”) a yellow garnet was now centre stage. 

 During drying time, I sauntered past a throw pillow that up until now hadn’t done much for me (including the absence of lumbar support) and noticed the exact same yellow tone woven into its needlepoint textile. Toting the pillow into the yellow hallway, I began to envision the inclusion of these colours throughout the space and it’s then that “finish the hallway” became “start the hallway”. I was already questioning whether to paint the ceiling but now that a new pallet of potential had positioned itself to me, yellow on its own just wasn’t enough. Having Malibu Barbie Pink on hand (as one does) my insecure self asked “eee, what if the ceiling were pink?” Then my curious creative self answered “what IF the ceiling were pink!”

I now access four different doors through the passing through of a yellow hallway with a pink ceiling. I cannot get to a bathroom, a bedroom, an office or the basement without reminding myself what I’ve done to this space. Better yet, I am reminded that paint is PAINT. It is not a drunk tattoo, nor a lust laden marriage certificate or any other choice made perhaps impulsively with hoop jumping required to reverse. If you want to paint your ceiling pink, f’n do it. If you want a gallery wall of vintage nip slingin’ Playboy covers, do it. If you want to dedicate your guest room to the collection of porcelain dolls channeling Stanfords hot model date, JUST DO IT. Houses are places you hide, homes are places you come out.