This got me thinking of this book I had once Cutting Edge of Wallpaper by Ziggy Hanaor. The intricacies within some are works of art within themselves.
Love this Lindsay. My kids’ bedroom when they were little had the jolliest yellow wallpaper with green trees all over it. When I think of them that age I think of that wallpaper. loved it so much and was very sad to leave it when we left that house. It’s so very personal and I suspect got painted over pretty quick.
I don't normally have a relationship with wallpaper but your article definitely sent me on a little trip down memory lane, thinking of all the different wallpapers we've had in my childhood. I had bright yellow walls in my bedroom. Nowadays I just have boring white walls. I guess that's growing up 🤷♀️
We need to talk about this, Layla. Had such a rick chat with a few other writers on some of the things that happened to our grandmothers recently. So many stories.
so compelling Lindsay - I didn't grow up with wallpaper in my house after the age of 5, but my bunk bed was very close to the ceiling which had mottled dried drips of paint as part of the design. i spent hours and hours seeing things in that ceiling. Whole worlds. Got me thinking also about the stories the walls of our homes hold. and how we long to both preserve and erase them.
I've just received Lauren Elkin's Scaffolding in the post, really looking forward to reading now!
Oh this was a brilliant read, thank you for sharing the stories of your relationship with wallpaper. I really love the one in your daughter’s bedroom too and feel your pain that it has to go! I feel as though I remember ‘borders’ more than full wallpapers in my childhood but I know we did have some and I know that if I saw the pattern I would instantly recognise them. I also love the ideas of the stories in our walls as the people who have lived within them. When recently sanding our bannisters (!) I became very aware of being a devoted custodian of this home and pouring love into it though it will be only a short part of this building’s story. It also made me think of the very eerie images by Francesca Woodman when she is wrapped in wallpaper as if part of the wall, beautiful and strange xx
Yesss, I remember the cutest border I had in my childhood room of a street of shops and I think a sheep-themed one too! Love the sound of your border in the bathroom! xx
This reminded me of a Dorothy Haynes short story called ‘Peacocks and Pagodas’ where a Mrs McCallum spends the day cleaning out and papering her bed recess while her husband goes to work, pondering life all the while. Delightful!
Such intensity of recollection, Lindsay. Your poor Nan, isolated in that way during such a vulnerable time. And puffy wallpaper, THAT stuff! With crescent fingernail indents. Anaglypta was the horror that covered the childhood walls of my memory. All scratchy and sharp to lean against, abrasive and not homely at all.
How do we paper over what we don’t want to look at in our houses?? Families?
My mother was obsessed with preserving/transforming wallpaper patterns in her art. I could write forever on this theme. Too much to say. I so wish Substack allowed images in post comments.
Oh I love this! I couldn't help but think of my grandparents' wallpaper which had sort of odd foamy lumps poking out. I spent hours finding non-existent faces peering out (and picking at the foam in secret, hoping no one would notice!). I hadn't thought of it in a long time. Thank you for such beautiful words.
So glad it's prompted this memory, Rebecca. I wonder about this generation of young people... Whether they ever have the kind of idle, wallpaper-staring/secret-picking time that we had?
That's a good question. I'm sure if I had a phone back then I would've spent far fewer hours daydreaming while staring at walls... but perhaps there is a life lesson here for adulthood, too. I could probably benefit from a bit more time gazing at walls these days!
Such a moving piece, Lindsay, that resonates deeply as I find myself back in Ireland, in the (rented) house that, even after 10+ years, still doesn't quite feel like our own.
Yes, Annette. That’s such an important point about renting, isn’t it? That there are often so many constraints on what we can do to make the space feel like home. I saw Olivia Laing speak about exactly this at EIBF the other week. How hard it can be to make space for yourself and the invisible power dynamics at play.
You've shot me back to a memory of moving house when I was ten, and kissing the pink wallpaper of my bedroom that had interlocking hoops of flowers. My mother had wanted a boy, dressed me in boys clothes and gave me a 1960s Mary Quant short bob. I longed for pink, for frills and femininity, and was heartbroken at leaving my pink wallpaper behind...
Very strange, I can't remember! Though I do remember age 16 being allowed to paint the woodwork navy blue and put up Laura Ashley paper, cream with a tiny dark blue pattern. When I moved out, I was horrified to see it all turned to peach!
This reminds me of my granny. She used to see faces in wallpaper and objects in clouds. I remember reading about it once. Pareidolia. Had to Google it! I used to love that puffy wallpaper, too, although I would peel it off 🫣
Aphantasia means I can’t see pictures in my mind, but I do see things within things…pareidolia 🙄
My bedroom curtains look like elephant trunks in a row, when I pull them closed. Trees with faces. Clouds that become the seashore with mountain backdrop. Oh my duvet cover has what resembles skeletal faces, with joyful expressions, like they are from the movie ‘coco’.
Wallpaper has always held faces or some other pattern for me, especially that puffy stuff my nana had! My house now has painted walls…
Aside from the bedroom we're stripping, we only have wallpaper in one room and it's botanical and slightly I want to say... Furry???! That's so interesting what you say about your experience of the curtains and so on, while you can't access pictures in your mind. I think it sounds like you have an incredibly rich sensory life, though? Do you think it's a kind of compensation?
We really are. I think I have a kind of synaesthesia that only really becomes apparent in specific circumstances. It's fleeting, but I love it when it happens
Brilliant word, Sarah! I need to write it down so I remember it. Oh, the satisfaction of picking and peeling at those kinds of walls... Absolutely rubbish for covering your school jotters with, though 😂
This got me thinking of this book I had once Cutting Edge of Wallpaper by Ziggy Hanaor. The intricacies within some are works of art within themselves.
I haven't come across this, Tracy! Sounds amazing.
Love this Lindsay. My kids’ bedroom when they were little had the jolliest yellow wallpaper with green trees all over it. When I think of them that age I think of that wallpaper. loved it so much and was very sad to leave it when we left that house. It’s so very personal and I suspect got painted over pretty quick.
I don't normally have a relationship with wallpaper but your article definitely sent me on a little trip down memory lane, thinking of all the different wallpapers we've had in my childhood. I had bright yellow walls in my bedroom. Nowadays I just have boring white walls. I guess that's growing up 🤷♀️
What are we like! I'm typing this from my magnolia-ish bedroom and wondering why the walls aren't something else...
also got me thinking about the women in my own family who were confined or 'put away' 'for their own good'.... so many stories buried
We need to talk about this, Layla. Had such a rick chat with a few other writers on some of the things that happened to our grandmothers recently. So many stories.
so compelling Lindsay - I didn't grow up with wallpaper in my house after the age of 5, but my bunk bed was very close to the ceiling which had mottled dried drips of paint as part of the design. i spent hours and hours seeing things in that ceiling. Whole worlds. Got me thinking also about the stories the walls of our homes hold. and how we long to both preserve and erase them.
I've just received Lauren Elkin's Scaffolding in the post, really looking forward to reading now!
Hope you're reading and loving it!
Oh this was a brilliant read, thank you for sharing the stories of your relationship with wallpaper. I really love the one in your daughter’s bedroom too and feel your pain that it has to go! I feel as though I remember ‘borders’ more than full wallpapers in my childhood but I know we did have some and I know that if I saw the pattern I would instantly recognise them. I also love the ideas of the stories in our walls as the people who have lived within them. When recently sanding our bannisters (!) I became very aware of being a devoted custodian of this home and pouring love into it though it will be only a short part of this building’s story. It also made me think of the very eerie images by Francesca Woodman when she is wrapped in wallpaper as if part of the wall, beautiful and strange xx
Borders, Lyndsay – absolutely! That was a whole TIME wasn't it? We had a border in the lounge and one above the tiles in the bathroom, too.
Yesss, I remember the cutest border I had in my childhood room of a street of shops and I think a sheep-themed one too! Love the sound of your border in the bathroom! xx
This reminded me of a Dorothy Haynes short story called ‘Peacocks and Pagodas’ where a Mrs McCallum spends the day cleaning out and papering her bed recess while her husband goes to work, pondering life all the while. Delightful!
I need to seek this out, Kirsteen! x
Such intensity of recollection, Lindsay. Your poor Nan, isolated in that way during such a vulnerable time. And puffy wallpaper, THAT stuff! With crescent fingernail indents. Anaglypta was the horror that covered the childhood walls of my memory. All scratchy and sharp to lean against, abrasive and not homely at all.
Oh my god, ANAGLYPTA YES! It was such a hazard of the time, wasn’t it?!
How do we paper over what we don’t want to look at in our houses?? Families?
My mother was obsessed with preserving/transforming wallpaper patterns in her art. I could write forever on this theme. Too much to say. I so wish Substack allowed images in post comments.
Share a link if it's elsewhere on the internet, Eliza! And excited to see if this leads to a post of your own...
Thanks, Lindsay. It may. One post that shows some of this is this one: https://twohouses.substack.com/p/soho-walls-never-funded?r=nbjv0
She imagined amazing Soho murals based on exploded vintage wallpaper patterns.
Oh I love this! I couldn't help but think of my grandparents' wallpaper which had sort of odd foamy lumps poking out. I spent hours finding non-existent faces peering out (and picking at the foam in secret, hoping no one would notice!). I hadn't thought of it in a long time. Thank you for such beautiful words.
So glad it's prompted this memory, Rebecca. I wonder about this generation of young people... Whether they ever have the kind of idle, wallpaper-staring/secret-picking time that we had?
That's a good question. I'm sure if I had a phone back then I would've spent far fewer hours daydreaming while staring at walls... but perhaps there is a life lesson here for adulthood, too. I could probably benefit from a bit more time gazing at walls these days!
You're so right! I miss daydreaming... Boredom...
Same! And thanks to this conversation I threw out my to do list for a few hours and went and sat in a graveyard and hung out with the trees instead 😃
Such a moving piece, Lindsay, that resonates deeply as I find myself back in Ireland, in the (rented) house that, even after 10+ years, still doesn't quite feel like our own.
Yes, Annette. That’s such an important point about renting, isn’t it? That there are often so many constraints on what we can do to make the space feel like home. I saw Olivia Laing speak about exactly this at EIBF the other week. How hard it can be to make space for yourself and the invisible power dynamics at play.
You've shot me back to a memory of moving house when I was ten, and kissing the pink wallpaper of my bedroom that had interlocking hoops of flowers. My mother had wanted a boy, dressed me in boys clothes and gave me a 1960s Mary Quant short bob. I longed for pink, for frills and femininity, and was heartbroken at leaving my pink wallpaper behind...
Sue, this is so touching to read. What wallpaper did you get in the new house? X
Very strange, I can't remember! Though I do remember age 16 being allowed to paint the woodwork navy blue and put up Laura Ashley paper, cream with a tiny dark blue pattern. When I moved out, I was horrified to see it all turned to peach!
That's so strange!!! Love dark painted woodwork now...
Maybe not so strange......from the age of 11 everything went tits up and I have a huge blank for that time......
I hear that, Sue. It’s so peculiar what our memory holds on to or purposely scraps. x
This reminds me of my granny. She used to see faces in wallpaper and objects in clouds. I remember reading about it once. Pareidolia. Had to Google it! I used to love that puffy wallpaper, too, although I would peel it off 🫣
Aphantasia means I can’t see pictures in my mind, but I do see things within things…pareidolia 🙄
My bedroom curtains look like elephant trunks in a row, when I pull them closed. Trees with faces. Clouds that become the seashore with mountain backdrop. Oh my duvet cover has what resembles skeletal faces, with joyful expressions, like they are from the movie ‘coco’.
Wallpaper has always held faces or some other pattern for me, especially that puffy stuff my nana had! My house now has painted walls…
Aside from the bedroom we're stripping, we only have wallpaper in one room and it's botanical and slightly I want to say... Furry???! That's so interesting what you say about your experience of the curtains and so on, while you can't access pictures in your mind. I think it sounds like you have an incredibly rich sensory life, though? Do you think it's a kind of compensation?
Yes Lindsay, I do think it’s a kind of compensation. Although seeing it in that light, reframing, has been a recent realisation 🧠
We are such interestingly strange creatures, aren’t we?
We really are. I think I have a kind of synaesthesia that only really becomes apparent in specific circumstances. It's fleeting, but I love it when it happens
Ah! My daughter was just talking about this yesterday, ‘tasting words’…wow, mind blown.
Brilliant word, Sarah! I need to write it down so I remember it. Oh, the satisfaction of picking and peeling at those kinds of walls... Absolutely rubbish for covering your school jotters with, though 😂