I picked up this yukata near a temple market during my last days living in Kyoto. That table runner matched it perfectly, and I didn't have an obi for it--and I have actually worn it!
Having grown up with a home builder dad and an interior designer mom, the houses I've lived in have always been beautiful. Now that I have my own home, I realize how much I was influenced by my upbringing. When I was young, I couldn't wait to live somewhere that I could paint flowers on the walls and keep a messy room (this finally happened in high school, in the house my parents planned to stay in). I love making my house my own, and even though I have a little of that interior designer point of view, I think my approach is different. A few people, when they come over for the first time, have commented that our house 'looks like Trading Spaces' or that they like all of our travel memorabilia displayed. For me, my house is nothing if it's not personal, so everything, minus maybe the TV and the sofa, has a story or some sentimental value. When I look around, I realize that nothing was purchased simply as decoration, but everything reminds me of a trip we took, a project we worked on, or a special person. My aunt and uncle (also builder+designer) once sold a house they'd been living in, with all its contents. They agreed to the sellers' request to take only 10 personal items when they moved out. It's admirable to not be attached to 'things' that way.
But here are a few things around our house, that I have to say I'm rather attached to, along with a little of their history:
I took this photo of some school boys playing on the public phones at the train station in Nara, I think. Tiffany would probably know. In a wedding gift frame.I received this very cute hanging pocket thing from a student a few years ago. It always makes me think of her--salsa-dancing Konomi and her Venezuelan boyfriend Luis.
I learned to play on this, my grandparents' piano, now under another noren from our last trip to Japan.