

Welcome to Homegirls. You'll find a sassy sampling of décor and design tips, frank conversation about everything from holidays and homekeeping to home improvement and our picks and pans of new products, stores and events.
Contributors: Kim Palmer, Lynn Underwood, Connie Nelson, Kim Ode and Nicole Hvidsten.
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As a reporter who writes mostly about homes and gardens, I don't get a lot of hate mail or angry phone calls. Nothing like the days when I covered city hall and could expect at least one or two a day.
Life is calmer, but I have sometimes wondered if anyone -- other than my mother -- is reading my stories at all, or just glancing at the pretty pictures.
But homes, in this economy, are a lot more controversial than they used to be. Just this week, the Star Tribune published two letters from readers critical of the Homes section. Here's today's: "Opening this section makes me sick. I am usually not a bitter person, but I can only wonder how anyone can afford this stuff." (http://www.startribune.com/opinion/letters/182904101.html)
I also fielded a few annoyed phone calls last month when we published a story about pianist Lorie Line's $4 million lakeshore mansion, and then, three days later, a story about it heading into foreclosure. (www.startribune.com/lifestyle/homegarden/179217631.html)
Featuring rich people's houses is "rubbing it in readers' noses" that they will never live like that, one caller told me.
For what it's worth, we do try to feature a mix of houses -- big and small, expensive and modest -- as well as overall home-related trends that affect everyone. When we do have a grandiose home in our section, we try to balance it with another story about something more accessible.
Before the recession, big, expensive homes rarely generated comment. And their owners were, on the whole, happy to share them with readers.
The faltering economy changed that dramatically. Affluent homeowners got a lot more reluctant to showcase their affluence when so many others were struggling. When we did feature a big, expensive house, we got a lot more negative feedback.
Last week, I had lunch with a freelance writer who told me she's changing her focus. "I can't write about rich peope's houses anymore," she said.
Me, I'm still fascinated by all the spaces we call "home" and the people who create them. I love the quirky starving artists' homes and the freedom they feel to glue rocks to their woodwork and paint murals on their ceilings. I love the elegant old mansions, and the sleek modern dwellings. I even loved the "punk house" I wrote about a few years ago, where a bunch of young musicians were staging shows in their filthy basement.
How about you? Are you sick of seeing homes that you can't personally afford? Or do you like peeking inside all kinds of homes?

Our front entry got an instant upgrade last week. That's because I finally ditched our beat-up old console table and replaced it with a new one that I picked up at a bargain price because it was a floor sample, too imperfect to sell for full retail.
It's got a couple dings on it, but it's still way better than the one we had, with a finish that had cracked and peeled away in strips, as though a giant had raked his fingernails across it.
But the old table quickly found a new home -- in the apartment of our 22-year-old daughter. She and her roommate were as happy to get it as I'd been happy to get rid of it. When the roomie carried it inside, a guy who helped her maneuver it through the door even commented that it was "a nice piece."
Really? It had looked nice enough when I bought it, about 25 years ago, when we were newlyweds. But it was so cheap at the time, and so damaged and dated looking now, that I never considered it an heirloom. Still, it's real solid wood, which is more than can be said for a lot of new furniture today.
Our daughter wants to strip and refinish it, to get rid of the scratches and give it a more stylish espresso color. I explained the process to her, what she'd need and how to do it. When I said goodbye to her, my eye fell on the two little accent tables that I'd refinished myself when I was her age. They were somebody's cast-offs, bought for a buck each at a garage sale. Yet they still have a place in my family room, and they still look good.
There's an awful lot of good-looking used furniture out there. My daughter and her roommate have beem pleasantly surprised by the offerings at local consignment stores and thrift shops. A couple years ago, I toured a new Parade home (pictured above) that had been completely furnished with secondhand stuff from the warehouse of Bridging, a program that helps families in need set up households.
If you have used furniture that you'd like to find a new home for, there are lots of options. Bridging (www.bridging.org) is one; it accepts "quality gently used furniture." The Hope Chest (www.hopechest.us), a foundation that helps breast-cancer patients and their families, also accepts "upscale" furniture donations for sale in its consignment shops. The Arc, a nonprofit that serves people with developmental disabilities, accepts "select furniture with manager approval" at its Value Village thrift stores (www.arcsvaluevillage.org).
What do you do with furniture that's past its prime or no longer useful to you? Do you refinish or reupholster it? Sell it? Donate it? Or hand it down to your kids?

In furniture years -- which are a lot like dog years -- our sofa is a very old lady.
She just turned 20, and she's definitely showing her age. Her cherry legs are still shapely but scuffed and scarred. Her upholstery is dull and faded, so worn by wear that it's torn in a couple of places.
When I ordered her, direct from the manufacturer in South Carolina, the rep assured me of her longevity. "You'll be tired of that fabric long before it wears out," he said of the high-grade tapestry I'd chosen.
That turned out not to be true. I still love the fabric, but two kids and three dogs have definitely taken their toll. I'd even consider reupholstering in the SAME, EXACT pattern -- if it was still available, which it's not.
The frame is in perfectly good condition. Its style is old-fashioned -- with a high curved back and rolled arms -- but it was old-fashioned even 20 years ago, so I tell myself it's timeless.
I hadn't realized how tattered and shabby she was looking -- until our 22-year-old daughter, who's now furnishing her first grown-up apartment, discreetly suggested that it was time for us to put the sofa out of its misery.
My husband and I tend to treat furniture like cars, i.e. we run them into the ground and replace them only when absolutely necessary. But I guess 20 is awfully old for a sofa. A few years ago, in 2006, the average life expectancy for a "good-quality sofa," according to a survey of prospective furniture buyers, was 7.8 years, down from 12.1 years in 1996 and 14.2 years in 1985. I found those stats while researching a story about the trend away from heirloom furniture and toward "disposible" pieces.
That trend probably slowed during the recession, when few people could afford to replace dated yet still functional furniture. But there's no denying that more people today consider furniture a short-term style statement rather than a long-term investment.
How long do you think a sofa should last? And how long do you typically hang on to yours?
If they make it — will we buy?

Housewares companies are hoping we’re tired of stainless steel and blah neutrals and ready for an infusion of blinding neon colors. Last week the International Home and Housewares Show in Chicago looked like someone spilled buckets of vibrant paint over hundreds of new products at the mega-marketplace.
Juicy orange and hot pink colanders. Teal spatulas. Purple toasters. Lagoon blue Kitchen Aid mixers. All at a store near you by summer.
Here’s how the trend-watching company Iconoculture spun the color craze: “As consumers awaken from their recessionary slumber, marketers stimulate their aesthetic appetites with vibrant colors.”

Okay — the recession might be over, but do we need more products spun off from another craze that won’t die — mini desserts? Electric mini pie bakers and ice cream sandwich makers anyone? I’ll think I’ll save my money — and storage space — and spread a scoop of ice cream between two cookies myself.
But I might spring for one of those new super-sharp ceramic knives that slice a tomato instead of smashing it. I hope the knife comes with a watermelon-hued handle.
Do you like to try new kitchen gadgets and housewares - or are you content with your metal spatulas and Mr. Coffeemaker?

Cherry wood cabinets. Granite countertops. Stainless-steel appliances. For years, they've been the holy trinity of materials in upscale kitchens.
Every Parade home seemed to boast such a kitchen -- and every homeowner aspired to having one.
But there are signs that we're ready to move on from our obsession with look-alike trophy kitchens. The latest trend survey from the National Kitchen & Bath Association reveals a hint of fatigue, at least with cherry and granite.
Cherry is still extremely popular but "designers are slowly shifting away from it," according to the survey. While 80 percent of member designers specified cherry in late 2010, that figure dropped to 72 percent in 2011 and to 69 percent for the final three months of the year. On the rise: oak, walnut, birch and bamboo.
Granite remains the No. 1 choice for countertop material, but its lock released ever so slightly, from 91 percent to 87 percent in kitchens and 84 percent to 71 percent in bathrooms. Quartz, at No. 2, also waned just a bit, from 71 percent to 69 percent in kitchens, and from 56 percent to 53 percent in bathrooms. On the rise in bathrooms: marble and glass. (You can read the survey in its entirety at http://www.nkba.org/press/releases/pressreleases2012/12-02-16/NKBA_Reveals_Top_Kitchen_Bath_Trends_for_2012.aspx)
How are you feeling about cherry, granite and stainles steel these days? If you don't have them, do you still want them? If you do have them, would you choose them again today -- or try something else?
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