When I was 17, I traveled to Florida for spring break to visit both sets of my grandparents. My father's family were avid sailors, and so that part of my trip took place on a sailboat with my grandparents doing their normal cocktail cruising with me in tow. My luggage, if you could call it that, was a canvas duffel bag that had seen better days. My shoes were canvas sneakers called Treetorns that have had a resurgence today. Unfortunately, they were white and had an unfortunate stain from a gas tank on a whaler that made them less than white. In a scene almost akin to the movie The Parent Trap, I went from the sailboat to an alternate universe to join my maternal grandmother, who was staying with clients in a beyond luxurious, fantastical house, the likes of which I had honestly never seen before. Sister had not seen me yet, and I was ushered into my room where maids unpacked my clothes, looking carefully away from my duffel bag, and then unceremoniously took my Treetorns to wash them. Unfortunately, the gas tank stain was immovable.

My mother had told me about this practice in great houses of her youth where, upon arrival, the maids take your shoes and shine them and then leave them outside your door in the morning. My rebellious teenage lifestyle did not translate into this antiquated, but pretty unbelievable practice. I will not go into the shopping trip Sister immediately commandeered when she laid eyes on me for what seemed like a state dinner that night. I was paired up with the European son of a world-famous concert pianist, who wanted to be there as little as I did. More on this episode later.

In contrast, we have all stayed in houses where our stay was impacted by a Dickensian orphanage approach to the guestroom, meaning it was freezing cold, the bed was lumpy beyond compare, and there were no attempts at including a water carafe, aspirin in the bathroom, or any of the simple amenities we have come to expect. This is not to throw shade on the owners of the house, but just to explain that they should never have friends to stay. Their minds are clearly on other things.

Somewhere between the cold guestroom and the shoe shining staff, I can safely say that people in our industry love to decorate a guest room and make a guest feel more than welcome. It is the time that we can pamper, flex our luxury muscles, and, to be perfectly honest, make our dear friends happy. I love shopping for new sheets for the guest rooms, I make a practice of sleeping in the beds to make sure they are comfortable, and you can redecorate them all the time, because that's the fun of them. Stocking with good books and magazines, comfy comforters for napping and making them light and whimsical is always the goal. 

We have, in this order: the upstairs guestroom at the Summer House — the only upstairs room — which we call the "honeymoon suite," and it is given to all young couples because it has the most privacy and enchanting views of the water. Currently, it has Kinnicutt wallpaper, amazing blue floors that were painted by my grandmother and have kept their color, and also beautiful rag rugs from my grandmother's era. The iconic photo of the youngest grandchildren sitting on the steps to the honeymoon suite indicates how steep those steps are, so this room is not good for seniors or over drinkers.

The next guest room is a canopy bedroom where my grandmother used the beds from her parents' house in Far Hills. They were her childhood beds and are very old and valuable.

When my kids were young, it was a favorite room to sleep in with friends because the canopy beds can be like little houses, and all children love that. She had decorated this room honestly for magazine pictures, I believe, because it had an incredibly red floor that always made me feel claustrophobic. There are multiple floral prints in the room, which I have kept, but I did repaint the red floor white this summer, and oh, the difference it makes! I also used quilts from Etsy to hang as curtains, and that worked out really well too. I had them lined and hung properly and they took half the time of having new curtains made, and the Indian block print is a great contrast to the classic chintz my grandmother used for the canopy beds.

The last one I'll talk about was originally, in my grandmother's time, a card room painted with an orange floor and a very '60s orange cloth print on the walls. I can barely describe what this room was like, except to say it was a time capsule. We made it into my son Tucker's room, painted it a pale light blue, used our Sintra in a custom red, white, and blue colorway, and have wonderful outsider art and a few boat paintings. When my grandson Rees spends the night, this is his room, and I know he feels cozy and comfortable.

With so many guest rooms, I really can't describe them all. Our house is rambling, to say the least, so I'll save a description of some of the others for later.

I like to include some advice at the end of these posts, and I can honestly say without hesitation that decorating a guest room is the ultimate in decorating — because you get to have fun, think about other people, be impractical since it's only for a few nights, and just have fun with it.