Debbie Travis' Facelift - Tales From The Set

Letter From Debbie

Hello Everybody;

Looking for glamour? Don't come here. As anyone who has taken part in a renovation knows, it's hard work, and a lot of it is dirty work.

I've had dozens of interns on Facelift and they get the worst of it. (Clearing out other people's junk, however, is easier than working through your own stuff, as the emotional side of decision making is absent.)

There's the cleaning and scraping, sanding and prepping walls, measuring and taping off for faux finishes, removing tape, cleaning up, setting up -- the list is endless.

But it's how we all learn to do a professional job, and the results tell it all. Our interns are decorators, designers, and carpenters in the making. And take it from me -- because I put in years of grunt work too -- it's worth it in the end.

There's no better way to discover the tricks of the trade then by working quietly in the background and watching all the activity swirling around you.

Decorating is expressive and very personal. Choosing colours, applying paint, picking furniture are creative endeavors that require thought and planning.

If it looks easy and effortless when you are finished, then you've achieved the ultimate success.

Love Debbie

Letter From Michael

Dear Debbie,

When my friend Dave and I bought this building a while back, the part that was to be my apartment was a bit run down... dated, dark brown wallpaper, stained floors, no running water...

But, gradually, I'd been fixing it up - resanded the floors, hooked up a sink and started painting the walls. It was slow work, not just because of a lack of spare time, but, faced with a multitude of choices, I usually have to try out each one to find just the right thing, be it sinks, or toasters, or the little metal thingie that holds the edge of vinyl flooring down. It runs in the family-we're all obsessed with stuff. My dad's particularly bad. Rather than throw anything out (and I mean anything), he simply builds another shed to hold it all. We get emotionally attached to the things we have, like chrome canisters, bakelite door handles, and old fridges from the 60's. Every object in our houses have significance... everything is sacred.

But then I go away for 4 days, and when I step back through my front door, every square inch of my apartment has been changed.

All my stuff was gone. The colours were changed. Beige became mango, pale yellow morphed into lime green. Nothing made any sense... it was like that sci-fi film where a modern-day aircraft carrier gets transported back to WWI. Only now, my 1939 arts-and-crafts apartment had been air-lifted to modern-day Bombay, via 1980's Miami.

I went into shock.

I'd always been slightly disappointed with the reveal on a lot of these shows... I couldn't understand why, after 4 days of back-breaking work, the owner just stood there, looking not so much surprised as slightly bored. "My God", I would think, "they've just knocked down 3 of your walls and transformed your cinder-block rec-room into a miniature Moorish palace, and all you can say is, "I like the new handles on the TV cabinet."

But now I understand... with the bright lights, and huge camera crew and Debbie Travis(!), there's no time to even comprehend what has happened, much less appreciate it.

But then the crew leaves, and you relax and begin to take it all in, and you realize, it's actually pretty nice. Beyond the peach/mango colour scheme (which I confess did take some getting used to), there's a lot to love. The whole place is brighter, there's lots of fun bits like the beads and the blue chandelier, the entry-way wall glazing, the stencils, mirrors... and the entire kitchen is perfect.

Every day, I've been struck by the team's obsessive attention to detail: electrical problems that have always been aggravating me had been repaired... broken wood trim had been replicated and replaced... holes filled, walls replastered, windows sealed, rusty hinges chiseled out and replaced... tasks that would have taken me ages to fix (if ever) were seemingly accomplished by a twitch of Debbie's nose. It's a weird feeling, having to get used to spare time. And I ain't complaining.

Thank you, very much.

Now if only Dave would stop raving about what a 'fabulous' time he had with your crew during that weekend...

Mike