I was watching Martha Stewart on CNN the other night and it got me thinking about influencers. Who were mine? Who shaped me, my moral compass, my design esthetic? Have you ever stopped to think about how you were shaped? Lots of questions.

I’m dedicating this post to my sister who has stood by me, and been my biggest champion, cheerleader, and life’s helper. I love you sissy.

On a road trip in 2015 my sister asked me who my influencers were. I was surprised by this question, so my immediate answer was Mom and Dad. Well DA! Of course our parents shape us for good or ill. We delved into it a bit but, then got to talking about something else. I wasn’t quite comfortable with the conversation. I hadn’t thought too much about it, because I’m mostly comfortable with myself, and who I’ve become. But the comment has rattled around in my brain ever since. Coming to me at odd times. What I didn’t say to her was, You! You have influenced so much of who I am, and I should have told her.

When I was 9 my grandfather and I were taking a walk, with the dog after dinner. He said Shelley what do you want to be when you grow up. I didn’t hesitate. I said I want to be an Interior Decorator. It was 1964 after our move to Omaha! I also threw in veterinary because it sounded good, but I was not smart enough for that one! Going forward I now see that I was groomed for Interior Design from a very early age. Mom would tell me to dust the furniture (which I hated) and then she would tell me to make it pretty. What! I can take this and move it there. You’ve got to be kidding me. Really? Well this is way cool! Of course after a few hours it would get moved back. Her esthetic was way superior to my 12 year old self.

She often said it’s the little things! Setting the stage, and making people feel like they are the most important people in the room. If you got an invite to the Dick and Char show, you knew you were in for a treat. From food to atmosphere they always made it special.

Mom insisted I learned to sew. A tall girl, I couldn’t get cloths long enough for me. A non sewer herself, she talked my dad into a sewing machine for Christmas for me. Oh, she could sew seams and make curtains, but never follow a pattern. She then spent a lifetime of throwing fabric in may wake, and asking me to create. The things I made for her! Like the valance for the living room window that ran the full length of the house! She taught me how to paint trim, and sand a table until it was “smooth as a babies bottom”! Mom taught me how to read a magazine from cover to cover. The adds had great info in those full color pages. She opened my eyes to the big design world outside our four walls. How to dissect a picture of a room, to figure out why that room was so marvelous. Not to mention a list of fabulous places to shop while traveling. After Dad retired many a vacation was planned around Colonial Homes Magazine’s and the Magazine Antiques!

Then I heard about an Interior Design class my high school was offering for seniors. It was taught by a friend of my moms. I was all in. Yes please!

Encouraged to go to antique shows, Mom taught me how to spot a good find. How to ask questions of the dealers, and how to negotiate a better price. You do it with appreciation and great respect! They furnished their home through estate sales. Buying fabulous furniture for a song. Giving them the opportunity to create something that was uniquely theirs. What I wouldn’t give for just one more trip through an outstanding antique show with my parents. Whom I kidding, what I wouldn’t give for an outstanding antique show in Omaha in February!

I learned my DIY skills from both of them. In those days if you wanted something special in your home you figured it out. Hiring someone was cost prohibitive. I learned how to build stuff from my dad. Not to be afraid to make a mistake. I don’t have the skills he had, and never will but, I got the best of both of my folks. How lucky is that! A few months before my dad died I said to him, “I wish I could have spent the last couple of years in your garage.” He taught me so much and I would have loved to learn more.

Then there is my sister. She is 6 years older than me. Not close as kids, she was way out of my stratosphere. When I was the first to marry at 19 she decided it was time we became friends. I didn’t trust this for a long time but, I have to say some of the finest experiences of my life have been with my sister. There is no one that can make you laugh like a sibling. Am I right? She joined the Marine Core, and in 1977 she decided I needed to come visit. She was working at the Pentagon, and she decided a long weekend down to Williamsburg would be just the ticket. April is a wonderful time to visit. She of course didn’t have a car and we had to take the bus from Washington DC. Williamsburg quickly became a cherished spot for both of us, and we revisited 3 more times. I am yearning now for another visit.

When they were stationed in Wurtzberg Germany a two week visit yielded up palaces and castles, foreign cars and fast autobahns. Feather beds hanging out the window. A surprise at every turn. At the Wurtzburg Residence a Tiepolo Ceiling that I thought I would only be able to see in my Art History class. As I was ascending the staircase I said to my sister, “you didn’t tell me I had to take pictures of Heaven”. Tapestries, paintings and the rugs. All those things my undeveloped interior design heart had never thought to see. Charmed by Rothenburg, and the streets of Nuremberg, we even went to the Gummy Bear Factory!

After their move to New Jersey it proved to be the perfect spot to take day trips out of. Trips into New York City, The Met & Natural History Museums, Philadelphia, Winterthur Museum in Chadsford PN, New Hope and of course Intercourse PN. Her love of Architecture and very old houses quickly rubbed off on me. Taking me to Deerfield MA in November with the maple leaves the size of dinner plates, falling into the streets. Sturbridge Village was also on the docket for that trip.

Then there were the fine dining experiences. Yes, we have a top ten list. The Polo Lounge, and High Tea at the Plaza Hotel, and Mackenzie Childs Tea Room for an 85.00 snack in NYC! It was the 90’s! City Tavern and Bookbinders in Philadelphia, The Trellis and Christiana Campbells in Williamsburg, Gatsby’s in Alexandria. There was a great place in Annapolis too. Oh and then there was that wonderful little restaurant in Sturbridge off the beaten path on a miserable cold and rainy night Cedar Street Grille. Wherever we were we always managed to eat one wonderful meal.

She introduced me to plantations, Woodlawn and Mount Vernon, Carters Grove outside Williamsburg and so many others, peaking my passion and appreciation for the decorative arts, the textiles, and an appreciation for the craftsmanship of fine period furniture. I wanted to learn the difference between a Massachusetts ball and claw foot and a New York ball and claw. Yes, there is difference. How to identify a Townsend Goddard, from other furniture manufacturers of the 18th Century.

Then there are the outside influencers. The people you don’t know but, you admire from afar. I would have to say when I discovered Ralph Lauren that was it for me. Both clothes and home furnishings. I absolutely ate up the pages of anything that he was featured in. I loved his ease of putting things together. Things that seemingly would be in contrast with each other, creating visual tension. The scruffy and worn with silk and crystal. The wool plaids, oh can we just take a moment!!! A beat up leather suitcase filled with a cashmere throw. He made elegance livable and the less than perfect, ok and accessible.

On a business trip to Connecticut I had 24 hours in New York before I had to be at a conference. My first stop was Ralph Lauren. As I approached the Beaux Arts Building and spied the Navy Blue awnings, I just sighed. This would have been around 1991. I knew I had come home. As we hopped the escalator and started our way up to the Design Studio, for me it was like living a fairy tale. The building itself was a feast for the eyes. And then there were all those textiles, the vignettes, Oh the furniture, the rugs. Yards and yards of passementerie, a fancy French word for braid, tassels, and trimming. When you’re standing in Ralph Lauren Design Studio, it is passementerie! No detail left undone. Beautifully set tables that were so imaginative and creative. Not just flowers and a pair of candlesticks. Oh no, a table can be so much more! Then there was the furniture. The sublime upholstery with it’s welcoming sink in style. Filled with glorious pillows and of course with passementerie. The case goods, carved beds and dining chairs. Everything so lovely. Of course the prices made my eyes cross but that didn’t matter. Lovely for a price!!! What he created was a complete lifestyle that people could really aspire to. The keys left in a dish with a pretty fob as you walk in the door. An open book with a less than perfect lap throw, as if the owner had just stepped away. These are the moments that create a life.

And then there was Martha Stewart. With all her perfection!!! I couldn’t buy into the cooking part because frankly cooking isn’t my thing. But, her love of a beautifully dressed table, the way she combined pretty with scruffy. Her love of antiques and DIY attitude encouraged me to try the things that she was doing. Watching her show was always a treat, and I would constantly say, I can do that. How to tie the perfect bow, or how to French wax an antique table. The right way to polish sterling silver. She had a way of making tedious tasks interesting and fun. But mostly she was teaching people the whole package. Yes, your home, your lifestyle starts at the curb. You pull up into your driveway, you take a moment, and you say to yourself there is no place like home. The size of your home, be it very humble like my own, or palatial doesn’t matter. You can still create the best that you can afford. An experience for all who enter.

When I started to get online with social media, one of the first blogs I discovered was, Miss Mustard Seed. This was probably 2008ish. As I was surfing one night looking for inspiration, I had that magic moment, what’s this! A young woman who lived at the time in Gettysburg PN. She taught me the merits of milk paint, and I found her design esthetic to be similar to mine. Her DIY skills were epic. With no fear, she taught herself how to do everything. Upholster, slip cover, build, refinish, there isn’t much that you can do to home, that she hasn’t tackled. If she doesn’t know how, well that’s ok, she just figures it out. After a few years of following her I thought why not. I do so many of those things. I know how to do so much, maybe just maybe I could be of some help to people too. At a time when I needed to find “My People” I decided to jump on the social media band wagon. For the Love of Old was born.

I am still a small blog but, I have learned that I love to write. I love sharing my thoughts with you for good or ill. I want to grow this blog because I know there are many more of “My People” out there who love interior design, are passionate about antiques, love to garden, and just find it important to make their environment extra. A place called home.

I will leave you with a photo of a trunk my parents acquired that I had to let go of. This was the hardest piece of their’s that I could not take because of its size. 300 year old immigrant trunk. I loved this piece so much.

Who were your influencers. Take a moment to think about this. It’s quite enlightening , and then let me know who they are.

Sorry about the long read but for me this was an important thought. I didn’t want to let it pass by.

Thanks for stopping

Shelley