A Colorful Journey

My mom loved color, and that love went beyond her closet. There were no white walls in our home, and anything she bought, if it came in a color, that was what we got. Seriously, everything possible was colorful, with her color of choice being a shade of blue.

Do you remember when Kleenex came in colors? Bath towels were a mismatched collection of bold blues and bright pastels. My mom often sewn curtains so she could control the color. We kids had floral sheets in bright shades of blue, yellow, and orange; my parents had navy sheets and topped the bed with an afghan that incorporated every color of the rainbow and then some.

In 9th grade, I painted my periwinkle blue bedroom and bright jade green. My walls and even ceiling were covered with colorful posters, my bedspread a multicolored patchwork quilt, I even had rainbow-hued string mobiles from the ceiling and one of those clear phones with multicolored neon lights inside it.

But as I headed into senior year, I found all this color overwhelming and juvenile. I painted over the jade green with many coats of plain white. I replaced my colorful curtains and roller shades with black mini blinds, my antique carved wood four-poster bed with an austere twin bedframe, my sheets and bedding shades of black and gray. My wardrobe matched, with much of my clothing, as well as my hair, were black.

That aesthetic didn't last long; I missed the color (and I missed my bigger bed). I slowly incorporated color back into my room and my life and reassembled my bed that was waiting for me in the cellar. I went off to college where I had dorm rooms, apartments, and shared rooms in a sorority house that were always full of color and whimsy.

Right after college, my sister and I got an apartment together. We went to the closest IKEA, an hour away, and furnished the entire place. One of the items was a white metal bedframe. (Fun fact, I had that same bedframe until we upgraded to a king-sized bed when we got a Saatva mattress, passed the bed on to my mom which she slept in the rest of her days.)

That white bed dictated my decor aesthetic. In that first apartment, it was white with cornflower blue. A blue and white fringed matelassé bedspread and blue and white floral sheets. Blue and white pots held plants, and blue glass bottles from Ross and TJ Maxx lined the windowsill.

When we moved to a nicer apartment in Annapolis, I changed the aesthetic to white and gray, with black and white art photography on the walls, and a white comforter with gray sheets and blanket. Even with such a minimalist aesthetic, I was my mother's daughter and just couldn't abide by white sheets.

After that year, I moved in with my boyfriend (now my husband). I wanted the vibe to be both of us, not specific to an aesthetic or gender. Luckily, I was in love with a fellow color lover, and over the years, we did rich jewel tones, deep desert colors, and beautiful shades of blue and purple. Our towels were always the most colorful options available, even our dish towels were printed and colorful.

We've lived together in this same house since 2001, though in 2009 we did a major home renovation which included a new kitchen, new bathrooms, a new bedroom, as well as turning our home office/gym into a nursery. Just like my mom, there was not a single wall painted white and we replaced a lot of bed, bath, and kitchen linens to match the colorful rooms. It brought me such joy to open our linen closet to see a rainbow of percale and terrycloth.

Over the years, especially in the past decade, decor colors got softer, paler, and more minimalistic. I raged against the beige machine with Marimekko sheets and Company Store towels and Pendleton blankets. But finding colorful sheets became more and more difficult. Even the places where I previously could find midnight blue and teal green sheets now carried dusk and sage. A combination of age and availability took our technicolor dream closet into a linen closet of faded sadness.

This year, thinking about tariffs, that our child will be heading to college in a couple of years, and feeling that now we're 50 we deserve and desire quality and comfort that lasts over pretty that fades or fails, we've been slowly upgrading our bath linens and bedding. And while I am still all about colorful towels, I'm finding I am really liking white bedding.

With all these muted colors, white feels downright daring. It's crisp and modern and clean. It makes dusk and sage look more grounded, beige look sharp, and every color, whether bold or bland, appears to be brighter.

When a pair of pinky-peach bamboo sheets became literal rags after what I didn't think was long enough of a life, I did a lot of research on what to buy to replace them. I was making the bed with our Boll & Branch sheet set, and I was wondering how old they were. I looked back and realized I got them in 2000. Every sheet set I've bought since has had to be replaced, but my Boll & Branch Signature Hemmed Sheet Set is still going strong and looking almost new.

I decided to replace those bamboo sheets with another Boll & Branch sheet set (this time percale), and for the first time in my life, I chose white sheets. And omigod I love those white sheets. I love them so much, I replaced our polyester blanket with the Boll & Branch organic cotton Dream Blanket in, yep you guessed it, crisp white.

The white sheets and blanket make our black and white Pendleton quilt set look so fresh. It takes my beloved ratty rainbow quilt I got at Nordstrom over a decade ago look shabby chic charming. It even makes our wacky orange stripe and lemon fruit printed silk pillowcases look cool, not weird.

When I come home from work, the sun is still up, but the lighting is softer, warmer. I go up to my bedroom and see my bed; it's usually unmade and usually looks messy. But now, with the layers of crisp white sheets and white blanket with the quilt du jour, it looks purposefully rumpled and so inviting.

I write this from my bed. The windows are open, so I have just the top sheet and blanket over me, the quilt folded at the bottom in case it gets chilly this evening. I have a stupid number of pillows supporting my back, my Eight Sleep keeping me cool on an unseasonably warm spring day.

When I started Wardrobe Oxygen way back in 2005, I believed the height of chicness was to have the same signature style all your life. That being said, I ever seemed to find mine. I'd try on fashion aesthetics like clothes, sometimes mixing and matching well, sometimes making a hideous combination, sometimes getting compliments even though I felt uncomfortable and wrong. This gave me self-doubt and I felt very, “those who can't do, teach” when it came to being a style advice writer.

It took me until this point in my life to realize that not having a clear personal style aesthetic isn't a style failing; it's what my style is. I am constantly changing, constantly trying, constantly learning, and enjoying the journey.

I am at the point in this lifestyle journey where luxury isn't how much I have, but the quality of what I choose. Luxury is not just owning the same sheets for five years, but still finding them to be the best-looking and most comfortable in the linen closet. And I'm enjoying this part of this journey with crisp white high thread quality and fancy pillows encased in lemon-patterned silk while rocking a bonnet, night guard, and mouth tape.

Disclosure: Because I loved my Boll & Branch sheets so much, I decided to become a Boll & Branch ambassador. This means if you purchase anything from links in this piece, I may make a commission. It also means that based on how many sales I make, I receive free product from the brand.

However, it also means that if you use code WARDROBEOXYGEN at checkout, you will get 20% off any purchase of $200+ through 5/29 (see site for details). This deal is better than most promotions the company has, as this big of a discount is usually only on specific products or bundles. After the 29th, my code still works but for 15% off sitewide.