The Tragically Hip

From the moment my husband and I wed, we had a clear picture in our minds of the furnishings we wanted to grace our flat, the artwork that would make its way to our walls and the organized kitchen drawers (that didn't squeak!) to prepare delectable dinners oozing with class. Little did we care that these interior dreams were unattainable at the time. We were young. We had our desires. We were tragically hip at the time (my term for loving things far out of our pricerange). And eventually, we knew they would come to fruition.

Fast forward ten years, three apartments, two homes and four cities later and we have finally made it to the first rung of the ladder- the home purchase. Dwelling in a classic West Coast 1957 mid-century modern home for the previous six years, the life of double-sided fireplaces, hardwoods and floor-to-ceiling windows spoiled us well. We were used to walking to our grocery store and cafe's while being a mere five miles from downtown Seattle. Life was good, but it was still missing that little hope we harbored of fixing up a place of our own.

With a new job and lease on life, the two of us decided to move our little family of three South to sunshine and, with any luck, more mid-century mod's.

What's more, we had saved and were ready to put all of those crispy thousands towards a 10% down payment on our own home. We could almost smell the new hardwoods and feel how smoothly those new kitchen cupboards would roll in and out. Alas, while the Bay Area is known for lots of phenomenal things, cheap is not one of the them. What began as a home search for a midcentury in need of some TLC in the city of San Jose, it quickly turned into the realization that even those were out of our financial picture at the moment. After exploring the residential neighborhoods, it was also becoming apparent that the closer we were to the hub of the action, the better. With some talk about waiting to purchase, we kept looking at new real estate in the downtown area. Soon we were to fall in love with the posh new highrises in the heart of Silicon Valley. With 180 degree views of the city and the dry yellow mountains that keep their watch, these places were extraordinary offering everything from inviting roof-top pools and concierge service to avant-garde cabinetry screaming for scrumptious food. Thanks to the economic downturn and a plethora of empty new condo's, it was technically possible for us to envision forking over our dough for a shiny new pad.

It was hard walking away from that life because- let's face it- you're buying a lifestyle more than anything. Without consciously deciding to keep looking, we did anyway. We found good little spots tucked into downtown corners oozing with life and palm trees. Nothing spectacular. Nothing of the scale of the classic midcenturies or the new urban mods. Nonetheless, they were nice and we could imagine spending some time in them. A tidy two-story townhome popped up with an attached tandem garage, three bedrooms, spacious rooms and vaulted ceilings. At a price comparable to its smaller, single floor two bedrooms. The catch is that it isn't in the posh neighborhood nor is it in the center of town. I take our son to have a look at it, meet a few passersby and notice how the exterior is getting a fresh, vibrant new coat of paint and the maintenance crew is tenderly caring for the lovely walkways and gardens. The outside shows well, though it isn't quite our style. A newer take on the Spanish mission look, the set of 50 townhomes were built in 1996 and sport an array of different bright colors on each home with contrasting garage doors and trims. The windows were painfully far from the floor-to-ceilings that we adore, with those ubiquitous little white panes that were only lacking velveteen bows.

The interior, though in need of several gallons of ammonia and a thorough cleaning, was remarkably light and airy. Sure the downstairs kitchen sports a huge flourescent lighting fixture and the laminate wood floors hardly compare to the laminate's of 2009. The upstairs carpeting is atrocious and the paint is in dire straights. Evenso, it feels like a home, even if it's doesn't have natural hardwoods or floor to ceiling windows. I phone my husband. "Ya, the neighborhood is cute.... what's that? You're cutting out... I said the neighborhood is cute. Really well cared for.... Yup, the cars here are all very nice... no, not any noise that I can hear but probably about 15 blocks from downtown. I need to scope it all out... It's got everything we need." The long pause on the other end, with my subsequent answer, "Yes, I could see us living here." The curveball was pitched and we promptly batted it right out of the park into left field. We put in our offer and after nearly 6 weeks we were moving into our new digs and first home.

All of those years spent perusing our IKEA catalogs and daydreaming, busily circling ideas in Dwell Magazine and watching home show after bloody home show. It was all paying off. We had our spot. It needs work. It lacks many fundamental elements that we find just downright cool. But we're out to prove that we can have it all. Welcome to our blog, where we'll share our progress, pictures and ideas: for everyone; for the drawer; for posterity.

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Welcome to Chasing Chic!


Bonnie and Nate