Everyone has an idea of what their dream house will look like. Maybe it includes a terraced garden or acres of untamed forest; perhaps it comes with charming wooden shutters or a sleek, modern metal staircase; or that it's just a cozy 700-square-foot city-center apartment. For me, every version of my dream home—from my days playing MASH on the playground, to using the Sims 2 design layouts I found on the internet, to house-hunting as an adult—all included one thing: a clawfoot tub.
To me, a clawfoot bathtub epitomized the peak of decadence—a romanticized fever dream where adulthood and self-care and luxury (not to mention copious amounts of free time) collided in an aspirational-yet-attainable ideal—all represented in one little cast iron fixture. The idea of owning a home that boasted a clawfoot tub came with promises of fluffy bubble baths accompanied by wine, and lazy afternoons reading a book. It represented all that I thought homeownership would be: satisfying, comfortable, and uncomplicated.
from Food52 https://ift.tt/3cKwf1o
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