In praise of imperfection
There’s something about imperfection that evokes real life. I love this photo for the warm brass accents against the white paint, the little glimpse of the chandelier, and the higgledy-piggledy arrangement of the books inside the cupboard. But more interesting for me are the way the left door of the cupboard sags slightly more than the one on the right, and the scratched-off paint on the room door. There’s a story here, of life lived in the home – is there an impatient dog, eager to get in or out but unable to reach the handle? Do the favorite glasses live in the left hand side of the cupboard, causing that door to be opened and closed many more times than the one on the right? Is it sacrilege, for me as a kitchen and bath designer, to say that I like to think of the family here being too busy living life to worry about scratched paint and sagging hinges? (via byygfabriken.com)
Life lived to the full
This simple, vintage kitchen tells a different kind of story – the traditional kitchen accessories artfully arranged on the shelves and in the window are the story the owner or the stylist has chosen to tell – but the imperfections and odd bump-outs in the wall below the window tell a tale of the history of the space – how something has been moved, or modern conveniences added, in a room whose walls were not designed to accommodate them. Perhaps the evidence could be smoothed away, and the wall made new and perfect – but the owners here have other priorities, and the building is allowed to tell its story: (via)
There's a story here
In this little kitchen the lovely texture of the mortared blocks in the wall are a great contrast to the shiny utensils and the clean lines of the kitchen, and make the building’s construction part of the room’s narrative: (Marie Claire Maison via Kitchenisms)
Marie Claire Maison via Kitchenisms
In this contemporary loft-style kitchen imperfection is allowed in through the rustic wood furnishings, and in those torn fabric curtains covering the openings. I suspect I’d have been frantically hemming and smoothing those if it were my space, but I do enjoy the contrast and texture the imperfection brings to it: (RUM via Emma’s Design Blog)
Who needs hems?
Now I can guarantee that the kitchen below has no imperfections at all, for the simple reason that it is a computer generated rendering. Absolutely uncontaminated by real life, this space will keep its preternatural perfection for ever and ever: (via)
Absolutely perfect - and not real. By Andrew Greig)
I do wonder where exactly the dividing line between damage and patina is drawn. Layers of paint peeling off an ancient wood beam are one thing,
Ancient and modern, Marie Claire Maison
but laminate peeling off particle board will probably never have quite the same cachet, no matter how many centuries you keep it.
Hi Joseph – and thanks so much for your comment. I was wondering if everybody was asleep out there, and frankly expecting a bit of disagreement about that first picture. I think the doors on that cupboard would drive me crazy pretty quickly, too. I’d have to have it fixed. Probably not much to be done about the dog, except maybe train it? My Dad had lever handles put on all the doors precisely so that the dogs could open them without scratching. He never did succeed in training one to turn round and shut the door behind her, though.
It’s probably just me (I’m a cabinetmaker), but I’m not sure I agree with living with the imperfections. Well, that and the fact that I still have not remodeled our kitchen, and it really NEEDS to be remodeled. So in that room are quite a few of the type of imperfections you’re talking about. Well, not so much imperfections from living. It’s more like cabinets falling down a little because they are (1) over 30 years old and (2) unbearably cheap.
But looking at the first picture you posted I do think there are things I would have changed in it. The thing with the dog (we presume) knocking the paint off the door is something some people are willing to live with. The sagging door is poor workmanship on the part of the person who hung that door. There really is no reason for that door to have started sagging on its own unless there were some sort of abuse like a kid hanging on the door every time it’s opened. But at that height, and in a cabinet like that one, I think we can pretty much rule out any kind of abuse, which brings us back to poor workmanship, which is something that would drive a guy like me NUTS! Just saying.