The Unexpected Romance of a Deep-Green Bedroom

It was a white box with a fireplace nobody had bothered to finish: raw brick at the opening, no moldings, nothing to hold the eye.

Green walls, pink everything else

The walls are Wonderland, a deep, moving green Roman Clay. Everything around them is pink: the ceiling, a new crown, the baseboards and the mantel. Either color alone would be expected in a girl’s room. Together they’re the surprise: the green keeps the pink from turning sweet, and the pink keeps the green from turning serious.

Green on the walls, pink everywhere else. The romance is in the pairing.

Giving the room bones

The new crown is sized for a nineteenth-century house, not a new apartment. The fireplace stayed and went pink, and the raw brick at the opening was replaced with pale Taj Mahal quartzite. A round acacia mirror hangs above it between a pair of pink sconces, so the pink runs from the ceiling right down to the hearth.

Soft things, hard decisions

The color and the architecture are the permanent decisions. Everything else is meant to change as she does: a ruffled crochet linen duvet, hand block-printed pillows, a woven tapestry over the bed, a floral checkered bench at its foot and a striped hand-knotted rug underneath. An arched floor mirror leans in the corner, and a pendant hangs overhead.