I’d love it, especially if it was done, as this obviously was, out of the goodnss of my dear friends’ hearts.
If everything was done to my taste and standard of quality, I’d be very happy. If it was close but easily fixable, I’d still be happy and I’d fix it without complaint. If they did what I see done on those TV shows, I would be pissed.
Nobody but me paints in my house. I like the lines where two colors meet (wall-to-ceiling, wall-to-window casing, etc.) to be perfectly straight, and I haven’t met anyone who does it better than I do, not even the highly recommended pro I hired at our last house.
My standards are very high and most people can’t reach them, but if they did I would be fine with this gift. It’s not going to happen to us, anyway. We take pride in keeping our house in fine repair.
On my first trip home from college, I went to drop my suitcase at my room and… it wasn’t there. My large, sunny bedroom with views of the river and the desert had been overtaken by a living room!
It’s been 23 years and my blood pressure still goes up. I hate it when my mother “puts away” my things because she always puts them in places I wouldn’t (yesterday she put in the closet, under my heaviest coat, a blouse that I’d only worn for one hour and hung behind the door). Heck, if she was involved in redecorating my house, every single piece of furniture would have wavy lines, take up too much space and be too dark for my taste; the corkboards would come down from the walls; every picture would get framed; my favourite items would end up… under the heavy coat, while things that I would never buy got place of honor.
I’d either make the 9pm news or say through gritted teeth “don’t. You. Ever. Touch. My. Stuff. AGAIN. If. You. Like. Your. FINGERS! Isthatclear?”
You didn’t so much hit that nail as drive it through the wall, there.
Lord! I just realized that Mom would throw out all my comic books and every single book that’s in English! 9pm news for sure! Bring back my Vors, you thieves!
Add one more voice to the chorus of “they did WHAT???”
It’s awfully sweet of the congregation to do something so selfless, but I think they crossed the line between supportive and interfering.
What surprises me even more is that none of the friends and family who were consulted actually went along with it. If these had been my friends and family, that’s what would upset me more than anything… anyone that close to me would have to know how upset I’d be to come home and discover that my home didn’t look like home any more, and I’d expect them to protect me from that by gently suggesting something less intrusive like a gift certificate or a free shopping spree.
My problem with it is that someone thinks that the need for it to be a surprise justified the invasion of privacy.
The sentiment itself is incredibly sweet, that to help in such a positive and useful way. It can though be done with the family’s knowledge and direction. There may be items thay’ve an attachment to that no one else knows about. It wouldn’t lessen the impact one bit if they were presented with the gift and then work was to commence.
One more thing… what if something incredibly embarassing or shameful had been uncovered during the remodel? That’s not fair to the Assistant Pastor, nor could those responsible then say Ooop, we didn’t see anything!
If the kids were in on it, I imagine they were the ones asked to move Mom’s underthings and quietly re-hide Dad’s porno stash and so on.
Don’t care if my family was consulted. Although they may have a good sense of my tastes, they would likely still make choices I would never make for my own home. Plus, while they may recognize the sentimental value of things like heirlooms, they may not have any idea about other pieces that have enormous sentimental value to me.
Plus, there is something very primal about one’s “nest”. My inner hairy man doesn’t want my cave fucked with. I don’t care if it’s a nasty, smelly carpet. It’s MY nasty, smelly carpet!
I would be furious.
What a bunch of buttinskis.
I hope the family actually knew what the people’s tastes were. I’d never want my family to be involved in anything so important.
Oh, and my home is my castle. I wonder how the responders to this thread break down into feeling about unexpected guests…I absolutely despise unexpected guests and won’t even let them into my house. I wonder if the people who don’t mind like those kinds of guests, too.
Where do I sign up? I don’t care if they don’t consult anyone that knows my taste. All new things and professionally done and decorated? Yippie. If I hate it I can always slowly bring my own taste back but what a nice and generous thing they did.
No ewww factor at all in my opinion.
This is very astute.
I would be appalled, and like Tabithina, very very depressed.
I do have one question–in the OP, you said that a lot of the old stuff was “discarded.” Do you mean “thrown out” or just “moved to another location pending final approval of the project?”
Both are unacceptable, IMHO, but the former is outright theft.
And in response to the people who are thinking that adult children would know what their parents would want–My mom and I are quite close, and we do talk about decorating and stuff. But after my dad died, she moved out of the house that they had lived into for 32 years and moved into her own house. And some of her decorating choices really surprised me!
If, by some weird circumstance, I was put in the position of furnishing and decorating a home for her, I’m certain I could put something together that she would be pleased with, and she could do the same for me. BUT–that doesn’t mean that I would choose what she would choose! The only way that I would do something like that is if there was no way that she could have had input into the matter.
I’m not sure to be honest. I’m assuming it was Goodwilled but I don’t know that.
That’s something that I thought of. You probably would know that the old clock or the milk churn were heirlooms, but you may not know that the tacky little white glass covered candy dish shaped like a chicken that has absolutely no financial value (it was probably bought in a dime store in the 60s or 70s) was one my grandparents used to keep M&Ms in and something I want to keep, or that the rickety old bookcase in my bedroom that doesn’t look nearly as nice as a new lighted/glass door one would was made from boards from the family homeplace. I’m not saying I couldn’t live without them, and in fact when I watch Clean House I’ve gotten appalled at some of the stuff the people have thrown out (one threw out a toy tractor that was his as a kid and a highchair that had been in his family forever- I wouldn’t have) but if I ever decide to get rid of them it’s my call.
I have a desk calendar from the early 1980s in my desk drawer. My grandfather gave it to me when dementia had so destroyed his brain that he didn’t know my name. He handed my dad the calendar and said: “Give it to the baby.” It was the last “gift from Grandpa” ever.
My dad nearly threw it out once because he found it, didn’t remember it or recognize it, and had no idea what it meant to me. If you asked, maybe someone in my family might remember that I have some calendar or piece of stationary of some kind that Grandpa gave me, but I can guarantee you know one would be able to identify it if they found it in my drawer.
I’d be skull-crackin’ enraged if anyone pitched it.
This is how I’d feel:
-I would probably hate the changes. Most interior-designer-created looks and design trends are unappealing to me. My family and hypothetical kids would know me well enough to pick out a shirt for me, maybe, but not know me nearly well enough to decorate my own home for me.
-I would feel like I’d lost my home. That I’d come back to find something that sort of looked like my house, but did not feel like it. Like I was living in a hotel room, or stranger’s house until my own home was recovered.
-Since stuff had been discarded, I’d wonder what people had been thinking of my possessions all this time, and feel embarrassed if it was old or ratty or just not as fancy as someone else might want. And then I’d get angry that it was even anyone else’s business to replace what I had in my own home.
-I’d really resent having to put on a happy, grateful face over the whole deal.
-I’d feel betrayed that my family and hypothetical kids had gone along with this “surprise upgrade.” Not only had they let strangers into my home, but they had aided this violation of privacy, ownership, and personal expression.
You don’t touch something as personal as someone’s house without telling them, and it’s selfish and naive to think you can do so and expect the person to be happy about it. Some people might appreciate it, but you cannot take the risk that they won’t.
My ex decided to surprise me by getting rid of my futon and getting a really nice, queen size bed, box spring and mattress. I started to cry.
We spent the better par of an afternoon buying back my (now damaged) futon frame from Goodwill, but she’d thrown my original mattress in a dumpster and is was a write-off. It was a violation of my space and a complete disregard of my wishes towards my property. Yes, the bed “looked nicer” but I didn’t need one, and although it may sound strange, that stupid futon was a part of my personal history and I wasn’t ready to give it up just yet. It had sentimental value to me only by virtue of the fact that it was mine and had been with me for some time. It was one of the first pieces of furniture I bought when I moved out on my own and it reminded me of more humble times. In time I did get rid of it, but only when I was good and ready to do so.
My living space is comfortable to me because of all the very personal choices I’ve made. Now I live with my partner. We have been taking months and month refurnishing our space because each piece is carefully considered and has to be something we both love. No one can come in a redo our entire place with the kind of deliberation that has us appreciating our space the way we do. Much of what makes the pieces we have special is the amount of time and consideration that has gone into each and every element.
In short, I would be despondent if someone did such a thing to me, and that emotion would quickly mature into “litigious” or possibly even “homicidal”.
Sampiro, Eats Crayons, AudreyK, and Cellphone have already stated my opinions on this matter. If someone did this to me, I’d do my best to make them feel bad about it. “You threw away that old glass? The one grandpa gave me while he was dying and told me that he’d always be near me as long as I had it?” Or even better: “But I had $75,000 in a hidden compartment in that bed!”