How should a house be?
A hot pink residence upsets the balance in Santa Fe
“I can’t live in a brown house,” the homeowner told the newspaper. She simply could not. Her and her husband were new in town—transplants from Silicon Valley—but that didn’t matter. They bought property, and it was their decision what color to paint it. It didn’t matter that there was a local ordinance, it didn’t matter that their house was going to be unlike all the neighbor’s houses, it didn’t matter that there were rules and everyone else abided by them. No, what mattered was their needs. They couldn’t live in a brown house! And so the couple painted their expensive adobe estate a different color. They chose pink. Not just any pink, a bright pink, a hot pink, a searing, scorching, shocking pink.
It’s a local scandal, that pink house in the hills. The quote above is from the Santa Fe New Mexican, an excellent local newspaper that covered the kerfuffle. Reporter André Salkin writes that the pink house of Michael and Dianne O’Donnel has residents “seeing red.” He continues, “Complaints by neighbors and city officials cite the Historic Districts Ordinance, which requires homes in areas designated as historic districts to be painted ‘predominantly be brown, tan, or local earth tones.’” The O’Donnels say their house is a local earth tone, and a photographer for the paper got an image of them pointing a toe at the reddish-brown soil as evidence. They also point out the bullshit nature of the city’s approved color list, which is found nowhere online and can’t be accessed unless you reach out to officials. This, they rightly allege, makes it very difficult to know how to paint your house. What constitutes an earth tone anyway? Surely it’s not just brown? The earth isn’t that monochromatic. Our earliest paint colors were made from pigments dug from the ground!
I’m sympathetic to the homeowners, to some degree. You should be able to access the acceptable colors easily. It wouldn’t be that tough to define them clearly for potential buyers and color-curious citizens. On the other hand, the house is pink. Someone on Reddit shared an image of the house from a distance, and it stands out like a sore thumb while all the surrounding homes blend into the hillside. Plus, it seems that the homeowners want to have it both ways. They want to claim their house is in compliance while also asserting their right to stand out. And since they just moved here, I’m inclined to think they should, I don’t know, maybe try to show a little respect? Blend in a little?
My other major cause of suspicion comes from their inability to give the proper paint name. They call it “Sunrise Poppy” and say the paint color reminds them of dawn’s rosy-ass fingers creeping over the Santa Fe skyline. But I can’t find a “sunrise poppy” offered by any of the major paint companies. It’s either “California Poppy” from Behr (which would be hilarious) or more likely “Poppy” from Benjamin Moore. Normally, I would like this reddish-pink as a house hue; it’s playful and bright, an unexpected take on the traditional iron red (aka Falu Red). As a New Englander, I’m inclined to rejoice in brightly painted houses, since they stand out so starkly against the snow. But part of Santa Fe’s whole deal is that their buildings are all adobe. Conformity is part of the character. They have an articulated local aesthetic, and in an age of airspace and globalized, digitalized sameness, I think that’s rather nice. Worth protecting.
The whole story got me thinking a bit more about houses and paint colors and what these choices say about us, as both individuals and members of a community. I’ve often thought to myself, I could never live in a purple house. I wouldn’t want to be the type of person who lived in a purple house. I have a certain set of beliefs about people who live in purple houses, and I’m not one of those types. I have a friend who simply would not ever wear polka dots, not because she hates polka dots, but because she is not the type of person who would make that aesthetic decision. I know a man who simply could not drive a red car. He feels the same way about lipstick red automobiles that I feel about purple homes: good for them, never for me.
It seems silly, but these things do matter. Individuality matters, and personal identity matters. We create ourselves out of choices, preferences, values, stories, and actions. While values and actions arguably matter a lot more than the others, there’s something to be said for our preferences and choices, too. Art matters. Objects matter. Our homes matter. When we appreciate our surroundings, we feel happier and more at rest. To live in a home that you like—that shouldn’t be a luxury. I think everyone should not only be housed, but also have the ability to choose a little of what surrounds them, just as I believe that everyone should be fed and they should have a say in what they eat. We all deserve this freedom, no matter how much or little we’re working.
I didn’t mean for this to turn into a rant about human rights, but I do believe that access to beauty is a human right. The world has so much of it; we should all be able to partake. I meant to write about historic house colors but I got a little derailed. In this particular case, the homeowners aren’t exactly suffering for choice or freedom. In order to live in a house in that region, they must be decently wealthy, and to be decently rich in America right now means you have more than almost anyone else on the planet. Surely, they can afford to give up a little of their aesthetic freedom? It wouldn’t kill them to better match with their neighbors?
One could slippery slope argue this down a dozen different trails, and I’m sure that’s happening somewhere in Santa Fe right now. But personally, I would never want to be the kind of person who lives in the poppy palace, not here, at least. We’re all constantly trying to balance our sense of self with the demands of our communities. I like to think my inner self is stable enough to withstand a little outer conformity.
I wanted to take a minute to say thank you to my paid subscribers. I don’t paywall content because I care deeply about making my work accessible. I believe everyone should be able to access sources of beauty and inspiration, and I want to live by that. But, since we live in a world that requires money for groceries (and more of it, every day, it seems), I do deeply and profoundly appreciate the people who choose to support my work. Thank you. I know each one of your names, and your generosity hasn’t gone unnoticed.
With love,
Katy
First time I scrolled past Barbie's Dreamhouse, I thought it was a telephoto paparazzi shot of a lone house on a hill. It was only after reading your article and stopping to take a closer look that I even noticed the other adobe homes in the photo, so well-blended are they.
We've got a non-conformist in our neighborhood, too: their house is an explosion of teal, as if a temple to the Miami Dolphins. And whatever isn't painted teal is just a different shade. It's aquamarines all the way down...