My living room has fabulous floor-to-ceiling bookshelves that drove me wild when I first looked at the house. It was previously owned by a female English professor, who installed said shelves. That fact in itself had me thinking Fate had guided me to this house.
We have lived here one year now, and still, the shelves remain barren. Collecting dust.
Between my husband and I we own lots and lots of books. Not many which I can in good conscience (style) put on these shelves. They are ratty paperbacks in a crazy assortment of colors and sizes, many of which have the telltale yellow USED sticker.
Since we are no longer in a college dorm room, but a grown-up house, I'd like our books to scream "stylish" and not "undergrad."
So I am on quest for pretty books, hardcover books. They should be art!
Sort of like these lovelies --
Right now (besides dust) my barren bookshelves have some pretty things on them, but not many books...
There are just so many shelves to fill!
This may give me a mild complex...
...but at least I have an excuse to buy more books. :D