Laundry Closet Makeover
photography // KIAH MCBRIDE
I’ll be honest. I didn’t intend on starting my home makeover series with the laundry closet.
I thought my master bedroom would be the first to make a grand appearance on this blog. But I’m often reminded of the importance of being willing to pivot when things don’t go according to plan. In this case, I underestimated the cost of buying furniture and decorating a home completely from scratch. And so, with my bedroom dreams delayed, I shifted my focus to another area of the home that would cost less to update, but have just as equal of an impact on my mental state.
The laundry room is an often forgotten area of the home, for it falls into the category of utility over aesthetics. We toss our dirty laundry in hampers and close the doors without a second thought. But I desire for every space of my home to be one of inspiration. I spent years moving from place to place, and even sharing a home with seven other strangers at one point. So this home is special to me. It represents not only stability and the sacrifices that have been made, but God’s goodness as He continues to elevate different areas of my life.
Like many parts of my home, I saw the potential of the laundry closet despite it being a little battered. It also had those very (personally) undesirable wire racks. So the first thing I did after putting together a mood board, was have my painter remove the rack and paint the wall.
Click to check out my mood board on Pinterest.
Again, here’s a lesson on being willing to pivot. The walls were supposed to be City Loft by Sherwin Williams (SW 7631), but my painter later told me that he ran out of that color and instead went with Lunar Surface by Behr, which was the color that was leftover from when he painted my guest bedroom. No worries, I’m used to having to adapt to the unexpected.
With the paint done, I moved forward with ordering my washer and dryer. Now I did measure the space to make sure that it would fit, but I underestimated how far off of the wall it would sit once the dryer duct was put in place. So now I could no longer close the doors. Instead, they hung awkwardly off of the hinges, which didn’t make for a great experience when walking into the bathroom. At that point, it became even more vital for the area to be aesthetically pleasing because unless I got a curtain, I had no choice but to see this space every day.
After playing around with some ideas (at one point I was considering cabinets to hide my potential “junk”), I landed on butcher block shelves, in which I would decorate with baskets and thoughtfully selected decor items. That meant pulling in my contractor to cut a 6-foot piece of butcher block in half to fit my measurements and mounting the shelves to the wall. While there are more cost-efficient ways to get this look, I was pleased with the final result. Just that change alone transformed the space.
I added fake plants and poured the liquids into bottles that were both functional and visually appealing. I also took an existing container I had grabbed some months before at HomeGoods and placed dryer sheets and other small items inside.
Adding baskets and interior design books was the chef’s kiss to the space. This look is easily achievable (and budget-friendly) if you have some existing items lying around. You’d be surprised at how a bit of creative thinking can revamp the use of a piece.
With the final decor touches, I finally had a laundry room that made me actually look forward to my weekly cleaning and organizing routine.
No longer would it simply be a dumping ground for my mess, but a space that represented cleanliness and renewal. And whenever the sunshine from my bathroom skylight peaks through, it also becomes a small area of my home that exudes peace.
GET THE LOOK //
Supplies //
Lunar Surface - BEHR Kit (1 Gallon) - $50.35
1 in. Matt Black Shelf Bracket - $4.98 x 4 - $19.92
TimberLOK 2-1/2 in. Structural Wood Screw - $30.27
6 ft. L x 25 in. D Unfinished Butcher Block - $249
Decor //
Homebody (Hardcover Book) - $20.53
Establishing Home (Hardcover Book) - $19.49
Laundry Detergent Dispenser - $24.99
Horsehair Laundry Stain Brushes Set - $11.99
Wool Dryer Balls - $11.99
All Purpose Spray - $13.99
Garment Spray - $18.99
Faux Lavender Plant (similar) - $13.99
Faux Green Plants (similar) - $11.99
Dryer Sheet Box - $19.99
Laundry Basket (similar) - $20.99
Hyacinth Box w/ Liner and Lid - $19.99 each (x2)
PROJECT TOTAL: $578.45
Quick Tip: When I want to save some money, I buy the supplies on a credit card
(and pay it right back off with the money I’ve set aside for a project) and use the points to purchase the decor items.
Next Stop: Chateau Elan
The older I get, the more I desire occasional moments of celebrating myself, by myself, which may seem contradictory given that I spent the last week surrounded by lots of love, laughter, and beautiful ladies.
“What are you doing for your actual birthday?” seemed to be the question of the month.
Kind of a bittersweet topic given that I had actually planned to hop on a plane to Puerto Rico. But undesirable circumstances had me cancelling flights and a hotel stay, and opting for a solo retreat instead.
Chateau Elan had been on my bucket list for some time now, yet despite many discussions of spa days and girl’s getaways, nobody pulled the trigger on traveling to the destination that lies just 40 minutes up the road. It’s honestly a characteristic I’m personally not proud of— always saying what I want to do and finding excuses not to do it. Many beautiful experiences are missed waiting on someone else to plan them. So I decided that at 32, I was no longer holding myself hostage to anyone’s uncertainties. Besides, I value my alone time, and what better way to ring in thirty-new than in quiet solitude while living in the lap of luxury?
And so, the morning of my birthday I found myself praising God for blessing me with another year of life as I drove out of the city and through the wrought iron gates of the resort property. I brunched at the Fleur de Lis before catching a shuttle ride up to the winery for a tour and tasting.
Though I was the only solo person in the group, I somehow found myself embraced by a squad of girls celebrating their own birthdays. The energy magnetic, it was no surprise that a few glasses of wine later, the remaining ladies on the tour left their husband’s sides to come vibe with us. It’s a known fact that Aquarians tend to be the life of the party (I’ve found myself in the middle of dance floors more than I care to mention lol). But I wasn’t there to be social, I was there to relax and give myself a much-needed break from energies outside of my own.
Back at the spa, I checked into my loft-style room, sipped the last of my champagne (they really know how to treat a girl), and lived my best bourgeois life in the hot tub where I met yet another birthday babe who was also enjoying a solo stay.
A morning latte and Swedish massage had me feeling good the next day, but as we know, all good things must come to an end—at least in time for new beginnings. So as I bid farewell to the villas and vineyards, I left knowing that this was just the start of a life I’ve always felt destined to live. No longer was I idly waiting to get everything I deserve.
Up Close & Personal
photography // Coco Dandridge
It’s cool outside, but the warmth from the sunlight spills in from the floor-to-ceiling windows.
It feels crazy to even say that, because around this time last year I was just moving into my new home, moving up rather from a place where train and traffic noises were my daily soundtrack.
Moving here was a leap of faith. The rent was a little higher than I wanted it to be, but I told myself that the sacrifice would be worth the reward. That everything would work out once I took the first step. God is my provider, and while I believe in utilizing the gift of wisdom, I couldn’t help but feel like my belief in His capabilities was limited by my fear of fully trusting Him. The only thing I had to lose was my sanity by staying in a place that no longer served me.
Since breaking my lease and breaking up with fear, I’ve elevated in a way that even I sometimes find hard to believe. Over the last few months, I’ve paid off all of my debt, bought my first car in cash, got my business together, all while sleeping soundly through the night, which was once a luxury for me.
I also continued to explore the depths of who I am, allowing myself to dive into the world of dating, but this time from a healthy place. Thus, I dated differently. Not with desperation or false hope, but with clarity and a clear mind to walk away from anything that didn’t feel right, or that was less than I deserved. A woman is most dangerous when she knows her worth. And with each experience, I grew more confident in the person that I had spent years making whole. This is who I always imagined myself being.
I was no longer becoming.
I was her.
I am.
As warm weather transitions to cool winds, I’ve gladly settled into a place of stillness. I’ve shifted my thoughts from fun and to a place of freedom. I desire to live how I want, go where I want, do the work that I want, with who I want without limitations or worry. Which, in and of itself, is a luxury. These last few months have been about me mapping out that plan, and quietly executing on that vision. It’s requiring me to shift the way I think and embrace the unknown.
But honestly, I’ve always loved a good adventure. I tend to thrive best in places of uncertainty.
Write Spaces: The James Room
photography // Coco Dandridge
It’s interesting that the foundation of who we are remains with us even as we go to the next level.
Take my love for coffee shops, for instance. I confess that I have a slight addiction. Not even for the oat milk lattes that come in various flavors, but for the vibes that come from being in a place where coffee lovers and creatives come together. My preference is local coffee shops (no shade to the big chains). There’s a sense of community that comes from a neighborhood watering hole, and I love that when I walk in the baristas already know my name and order. And lowkey, the coffee is usually better.
But more importantly, these are the spaces where I plot and put in work for my next moves. When I lived in LA, I would trek down the hill from my tiny studio apartment to Solar de Cahuenga where I’d post up on the back patio with a goat cheese salad and a chai tea latte. I’d slip on my headphones, exhale, open my laptop and proceed to research, transcribe and pen profiles on celebrities and girl bosses, which would eventually carry me into rooms with the likes of Oprah, attend events like the BET Awards, and get me a seat at the table at Google.
Even as I went deeper into debt (my fellow freelance writers know the struggle), I found peace in operating in my purpose. And whenever I typed out the final line of an article and hit submit, I would transition my mind to planning how I, too, was one day going to be someone worthy of interviewing. I knew in my heart that I was destined for more even when I had less, and being in a beautiful environment where I never knew if I was going to run into a producer, entrepreneur, or fellow creative was just the energy that I needed to be around.
When I moved back to Atlanta, coffee shops were once again my creative safe haven. After a full day of work, I’d escape from my noisy apartment and walk the streets of Old Fourth Ward to my favorite cafés such as The James Room— a perfect European vibe for a travel lover like myself. Where the café lacks in space it makes up for in aesthetic, with delicious bites and a mean lavender sea salt oat milk latte, or a rosemary oat milk latte if you’re feeling adventurous. And on a beautiful fall day, the patio offers serene views of passersby on the beltline as you type away on your computer. Not to mention their music playlist? A1.
“I knew in my heart that I was destined for more even when I had less.”
For hours I would work on freelance projects for clients or ideas for my brand until they closed up shop. It was in these spaces that I rebirthed my blog with the help and support of my amazing photographers Coco and Shah. It was here that I’d continue to dream, even when my circumstances were depleting the desire to do more.
Since becoming debt free, that fire has been reignited. At the top of the year, I moved out of my old space and moved up into a better one— a fresh start in a sense, even though it’s just a few miles down the road. With it came new coffee shops to explore, and baristas who speak my name as soon as I walk through the door.
But this time when I open my laptop I’m not working on celebrity profiles or freelance work. I’m focused on building towards my future as an author and a storyteller. The spaces that inspire me have remained the same, but the vision has only gotten bigger. And I love that for me.
The Write Spaces series is a collection of places and destinations that inspire me to write.
Limitless
photography // Shah Ali
Lately, I've been thinking about the idea of being limitless.
I've been getting questions about why I have to be the one in the photos for my blog—emphasis on MY blog—and I admit that for a brief moment, it stirs up a few insecurities from the past. Because for so long, I've battled with accepting what I look like at various stages of my life.
When I was eight, it was the fact that I had breasts, which sparked the nickname "Milk Jugs" before I even had a chance to understand my own body. So I wore oversized shirts.
At 11, it was the scars on my legs from my days of playing basketball, soccer, cheerleading, dance, and climbing fences to get to secret apple orchards in the suburbs of Ohio. So I stopped showing my legs.
At 15, it was the realization that my hair would never be silky or curly, that my edges puffed at the roots and refused to be tamed. So I covered it with thick, white cream that left behind a burning sensation (and sometimes scabs), signaling that my strands were straight enough to run my fingers through it without catching. Or I let the sticky, black glue bond to the tracks of 12” Brazilian bundles and attached them to my scalp, which admittedly ruined many rat tail combs when I tried to comb it out.
I grew out of many of those phases, soon embracing v-cut shirts, sliding into coochie cutters, and eventually loving the fact that my fingers would catch in my natural, puffy (and later loc’d) hair. I accepted that I was never going to grow beyond 5”3, thus retiring the dream of being able to say I was 5”5 with brown eyes—in my Claudette from City High voice—and that I would never look like the models in the magazines that I so dearly loved—even the Black ones.
And even though we’ve made “progress” by showing more women of color in various shapes, sizes and hairdos, none of that inspired me to feel comfortable in my own skin, because at the end of the day, I still didn’t see women like myself—women with stubby fingers, fat toes, and short, apple-shaped frames—featured in ad campaigns and TV shows. Brands meet diversity quotas by featuring a narrow spectrum of brown-skinned beauties with perfectly curly coils that I’ve never had, or 70s inspired afro puffs, which I also never had. And those with locs are often portrayed as Afrocentric sistahs or wild-child Bohemian types, neither of which I claim to be.
And so, my journey to loving myself without the inspiration or influence of another continues. It’s not that I aspire to be a model, and quite frankly I’d rather be quietly writing on a beach than in front of a camera. It’s the fact that I’m tired of not seeing women like me, as if the narrative begins and ends with someone else’s idea of what’s acceptable and picture-worthy, and instead of complaining about it, true to my nature, I chose to do something about it.
I think about all of the opportunities that I’ve had the chance of experiencing, and know that had I listened to the world around me, or even to my own fear at times, I would be confined to a small portion of my potential. I wouldn’t be able to say that I truly lived, that I fearlessly embraced the unknown, that I did everything that ever crossed my mind to do, or tried things that I never imagined doing. In short, I would look back one day with a knot at the pit of my stomach, with what could only be described as regret.
It’s a constant challenge to push beyond my comfort zone and be the person that I desire to see. Each photo is the epitome of transformation, and it’s happening right before your eyes. So, with every story told on here, even if it’s not specifically about me, I choose to visually place myself in the narrative. Not out of vanity, but with the humility of admitting that at one point, I didn’t feel confident enough to even show my skin.
After all, it’s my blog, so I will do whatever the hell that I want to, whether you understand it or not.
Staycation
photography // KIAH MCBRIDE
location // TOPANGA, CALIFORNIA
It started out with one simple thought: I need a vacation.
Which may sound weird considering I live in sunny L.A. I’m less than an hour from beautiful beaches, a drive through the mountains towards Vegas, a couple of hours from a desert oasis, and yet still I felt this need to escape, to go somewhere different.
But despite not having the funds, I knew I that if I didn’t at least get one day where I wasn’t surrounded by the temptation of work and play that I was going to lose it. But despite not having the funds, I knew I that if I didn’t at least get one day where I wasn’t surrounded by the temptation of work and play that I was going to lose it. But despite not having the funds, I knew I that if I didn’t at least get one day where I wasn’t surrounded by the temptation of work and play that I was going to lose it.
But despite not having the funds, I knew I that if I didn’t at least get one day where I wasn’t surrounded by the temptation of work and play that I was going to lose it. But despite not having the funds, I knew I that if I didn’t at least get one day where I wasn’t surrounded by the temptation of work and play that I was going to lose it.But despite not having the funds, I knew I that if I didn’t at least get one day where I wasn’t surrounded by the temptation of work and play that I was going to lose it.
But I could see my bank account flashing red at the thought of me spending another dime on something more extravagant like Hawaii or the Caribbean. My splurges are occasional these days, because when you’re chasing a life filled with purpose, it often comes at the sacrifice of comfortable living, big paychecks, and the certainty that comes from settling—at least at first.
But despite not having the funds, I knew I that if I didn’t at least get one day where I wasn’t surrounded by the temptation of work and play that I was going to lose it.
I needed to be somewhere quiet. I needed to get away from the world. But I needed to do so on a budget, which meant staying close to home.
Remembering the credit that I had accumulated I logged into my Airbnb account and began searching for a spot close by that fit the vibe I was going for—relaxed, peaceful, a beautifully designed fuck-you to the real world that continuously pulled me into its daily shenanigans of the passionless and the pseudo-political. I had a small credit that I had accumulated on my cross-country jaunt to L.A just the year prior, so with a strict budget in mind I began my search, and I found the perfect spot.
It was only 20 minutes away, nestled in the hills of Topanga Canyon. The reviews were raving, the vibe said “come chill out,” and the promise of having my chakras taken care of made me a tad bit curious. Not to mention that my muscles had already started relaxing at the thought of soaking in the deep tub that has become such a luxury after living in a place with no A/C that forced me to leave windows open, allowing a constant layer of dirt to settle around the tub of my own place. So I booked the spot and packed my bags just a week later.
To do a staycation right—if not in your home, you have to make it feel like home. I slipped my favorite candle into to my bag along with bath salts, bubble bath, and a loofah. My slippers couldn’t be left behind, nor could my essential oils.
I arrived at what the owner deemed the “White Rose House” in the early afternoon when the sun was on its descent to the other side of the earth. She wasn’t home at first, but the gate was cracked so I let myself in to the little guest room that was just off of the main house. I silently exclaimed a “hell yeah” as I opened the door to the bright white room—it was just as describe—serene, peaceful, and begging for someone to partake into me-time.
The owner arrived shortly thereafter, offering cookies and informing me that I was open to the backyard and her home at any time. I thanked her and ducked back into my temporary oasis, eager for some time away from people.
I quickly made the spot my home, pulling out my laptop, journal, and book that I would be diving into for the first time in months, because, distractions. When night time came, I ran the bath water, lit my candles, and turned on my Staycation playlist to set the mood.
I relaxed.
I indulged.
I released everything that wasn’t contributing to my progression—doubtful thoughts, draining people, and energies that were keeping me off my path of purpose. Before I left in the morning the owner offered me an Angelic cleanse, it was different, but added to the uniqueness of the experience.
My staycation was brief, but it was just enough to get me back focused. That’s the great thing about getting away, even just for a moment, you realign yourself with what truly matters and disconnect from what doesn’t. You find that peace comes from within, it’s the outside influences that you allow into your life that push you into a chaotic place. Sometimes you just need to dip off for a minute and clear your head in order to get back in the game.
Looking to do a Staycation? I got you. Click here to get $40 off your next Airbnb stay.