Growing up, my parents would take my sister and me to a cabin near a lake every summer for a week. It was rustic…old carpet and linoleum, a floor heater, a tin shower and an antique bear rug hung over the door, fangs out. It also had a quaint little stove, a collection of vintage baskets, old national parks posters, cafe curtains, and a gingham cloth on the outdoor dining table.
There were also five issues of Architectural Digest in a basket on the floor beside the old green sofa. I poured over them for hours and hours, studying each image, reading and re-reading the articles.
