Right now, my roommate Jillian and I are what you would call “house poor.” We have a lovely apartment in a great neighborhood, but have spent all of our money on rent and Chipotle burrito bowls, so things are pretty sparse in the way of furniture and decor.
Everything is beige and the walls are bare. My living quarters especially look like a child’s hospice room. Like, there’s a bright quilt on the bed to brighten things up a bit and a sad little plant on the window sill, but no pictures hanging on the wall because let’s just say it’s not worth putting them up since they’ll be coming right back down when the next kid moves in.
We were starting to go crazy in here, which I guess is what happens when your apartment looks like a sterile mental institution, so we decided to sass things up a bit with a chevron accent wall: