You spend months debating over the 50 shades of greige in your selection pack only to discover that "June Fog" is exactly the same colour as "Silver Pendant", drive yourself and everyone around you mad asking whether you should go for the white or dark kitchen cabinets and become so acutely aware of the various shades of Colorbond available that you can name them on sight.
By the time your plans are passed through the various councils and government bodies required to build your stock-standard, same as all the others, house, you will be sick to death of even thinking about colour schemes and just wish the bloody house was built already!
Yet I held out hope for our "big day". I imagined our Colour Consultant to be some arty designer type person who would help bring our vision into reality (and hopefully guide us through any questionable choices) over coffee and delicious biscuits. I expected to leave feeling excited about our house in all it's shiny-surfaced glory, desperate to see the finished product and call it home.
On we went making our way through the booklet. Bricks, gutter and fascia, garage doors, internal and external doors, sorted. There were a few tense moments when we dared to ask things like can we see the different cornices we have to choose from and do we have to have the metal grill on the screen doors.
Fussy bastards.
Finally we get to the kitchen stuff, but there is another problem. At some stage between us receiving our selections pack and this meeting, the builder had stopped using the particular brand of stone we had decided on and we would have to pick a colour from one of the other suppliers.
For convenience we had arranged to choose all of our tiles from the store nearby and decided since we were running ahead of time and having so much fun we should get that over with too.
Oh, that's no problem, let's add that on?
Excuse me, who are you and what have you done with my husband?
Well, while you are at it how about we go with those fancy oversized tiles for the kitchen splash back?
Okay? You like them too?
The moral of the story?
 |
| So. Many. Greys. |
Yet I held out hope for our "big day". I imagined our Colour Consultant to be some arty designer type person who would help bring our vision into reality (and hopefully guide us through any questionable choices) over coffee and delicious biscuits. I expected to leave feeling excited about our house in all it's shiny-surfaced glory, desperate to see the finished product and call it home.
I should have known it was never going to be a picnic.
Mr Bond is not a fan of any kind of meeting that takes all day and Hayden had to come with us so conditions were not ideal. There had also been some heated discussions prior to our meeting regarding the necessity of power points and lighting and all that stuff that can blow a manageable price into tell her she's dreaming territory.
I can say with confidence we will never be auditioning for a spot on The Block.
Our plan of attack was to get in there with everything already decided on so we didn't drag the day out longer than necesarry and we wouldn't be swayed by any of the potential upgrade options.
We arrived early, folders in hand ready to make a start.
First item of business?
Render. Too easy.
I whipped out my booklet and gave her our choice. Confused, our Consultant asked what booklet we had chosen that from. I showed her the brochure clearly marked "paint selections for interior and exterior" and as this was the only paint chart we received, I had assumed this was what I was supposed to choose from.
Apparently not.
I was supposed to choose from the Moroka chart. The Moroka chart that you don't get in your selections pack. The Moroka chart you are not aware even exists until this precise moment and which, incidently, is actually just a table of the names of the Moroka colours and not a chart of the ACTUAL COLOURS YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO GUESS WOULD MATCH YOUR BRICKWORK.
Excellent.
Five minutes in and Mr Bond looks like his head is about to pop off. I feel about the same. Our Consultant is visibly unimpressed by our exasperation.
First item of business?
Render. Too easy.
I whipped out my booklet and gave her our choice. Confused, our Consultant asked what booklet we had chosen that from. I showed her the brochure clearly marked "paint selections for interior and exterior" and as this was the only paint chart we received, I had assumed this was what I was supposed to choose from.
Apparently not.
I was supposed to choose from the Moroka chart. The Moroka chart that you don't get in your selections pack. The Moroka chart you are not aware even exists until this precise moment and which, incidently, is actually just a table of the names of the Moroka colours and not a chart of the ACTUAL COLOURS YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO GUESS WOULD MATCH YOUR BRICKWORK.
Excellent.
Five minutes in and Mr Bond looks like his head is about to pop off. I feel about the same. Our Consultant is visibly unimpressed by our exasperation.
On we went making our way through the booklet. Bricks, gutter and fascia, garage doors, internal and external doors, sorted. There were a few tense moments when we dared to ask things like can we see the different cornices we have to choose from and do we have to have the metal grill on the screen doors.
Fussy bastards.
Finally we get to the kitchen stuff, but there is another problem. At some stage between us receiving our selections pack and this meeting, the builder had stopped using the particular brand of stone we had decided on and we would have to pick a colour from one of the other suppliers.
If there was one thing I was completely certain about it was the colour of the stone benchtops! I had used the kitchen as the starting point for all the other choices we made. I couldn't just blindly pick something else! Luckily there was one that was an almost identical match or I may have completely lost my shit having to then rethink my whole colour scheme. By now what little sense of humour our Consultant had has well and truly left the building.
My brain was starting to melt.
A coffee would have been helpful at this point, but instead out comes the electrical layout.
Oh goody, this should be fun.
A coffee would have been helpful at this point, but instead out comes the electrical layout.
Oh goody, this should be fun.
Not giving Mr Bond a chance, I quickly tell the Consultant I want to add an extra power point in the main bedroom. Yes one on each side of where the bed will be placed, thank you. Yes I know I am a freak for thinking we would want a power point each. Yes that will be $40, just add it to the final contract.
Clearly put out by my frivolous behaviour, Mr Bond then pounces on the plans and declares that we couldn't possibly need two power points in the home theatre and to take one out thus cancelling the $40 charge.
Sigh.
Clearly put out by my frivolous behaviour, Mr Bond then pounces on the plans and declares that we couldn't possibly need two power points in the home theatre and to take one out thus cancelling the $40 charge.
Sigh.
Thankfully that tense little discussion marked the end of the selections process and we were free to get some lunch whilst our contracts were finalised.
Halle-freaking-lujah!
Halle-freaking-lujah!
For convenience we had arranged to choose all of our tiles from the store nearby and decided since we were running ahead of time and having so much fun we should get that over with too.
After we had some lunch and a goddamn coffee we headed over to the tile store. We discussed our choices with the assistant (who was fabulous by the way) as I threw vegemite sandwiches at Hayden. I thought we were just about done when all of a sudden I hear Mr Bond is asking to take the bathroom tiles right up to the roof.
Wait a minute, what was that?
Oh, that will be another $1,500?
Wait a minute, what was that?
Oh, that will be another $1,500?
Oh, that's no problem, let's add that on?
Excuse me, who are you and what have you done with my husband?
Well, while you are at it how about we go with those fancy oversized tiles for the kitchen splash back?
Okay? You like them too?
I don't know what just happened, but just quietly I think the bathrooms are going to be the most awesome part of the house.
The moral of the story?
Never underestimate the power of a chicken schnitzel burger.
