Do HGTV Shows Renovate the Rooms You Don't See?

Are there unfinished rooms hiding behind these walls? (Photo: HGTV)

After watching an episode HGTV’s Fixer Upper or Property Brothers, I’m often left wondering about a bedroom—or even an entire floor—that clearly needed work, yet wasn’t shown in the final reveal. Did the homeowners just shell out 100 grand for a half-completed house?

HGTV is notoriously hush-hush about the behind-the-scenes scoop on its shows, but the Scott brothers, hosts of Property Brothers and Buying & Selling, do offer some answers on their website: “The homeowners decide which areas of the house they would like to focus on. We want to capture their complete experience of finding and creating their dream home and in an hour episode we can only show so much. That being said, Jonathan and his team usually finished the entire home.” 

So in the case of the twin-brother team, at least, the show is only documenting a fraction of the renovation—and the budget being discussed is only covering that part of the project. “After the viewing parts are fully renovated, the team goes back to the rest of the house to ensure buyers have their dream home,” according to a profile of the Scott brothers on Newsvine. The segment you see on screen usually takes four to six weeks to complete, though, in the real world, an undertaking of that size would require closer to 10 to 12 weeks of work, the brothers say. 

What about unseen rooms on the smash-hit Fixer Upper? In an interview with Hooked on Houses, Joanna Gaines revealed that she and husband Chip sometimes only focus on priority rooms, due to clients’ budget restraints, leaving the homeowners to make cosmetic updates—think painting and installing carpet—after the show has wrapped. “Other times, we finish the spaces for them after the reveal and this is separate from the budget shown for TV,” she said. “We help them finish their renovation even when the cameras aren’t rolling. It all depends on budget and our clients’ priorities for their home renovation.”  

The Story Behind Vintage "Shiny Brite" Christmas Ornaments

My first Shiny Brite ornaments.

If you frequent antique or vintage shops, you’ve undoubtedly seen Shiny Brite ornaments, even if you have no idea of their name. They’re the colorful, often intricately painted glass ornaments, ranging from classic red to hot pink to candy-striped. They’re usually a bit expensive for someone (ahem, me) who’s used to thrift-store prices—maybe $20 to $30 a box—but I recently found a set of 12 in their original cardboard box for $4.50 at a charity shop. 

I’ve always admired them, but now my curiosity is officially piqued: What’s the history behind these adorable little ornaments?

The Shiny Brite story begins after World War I with Max Eckardt, a German born in 1890.

Though Eckardt was from Oberlind, Germany—just 20 miles away from Lauscha, a hub for glass ornament makers—he first trained in the toy industry. In 1926, though, he officially entered the ornament business with his brother, Ersnt, opening a factory in Oberlind, where his relatives and employees hand-decorated the glass balls. His company also had an office in New York City at 1107 Broadway, which later became part of the International Toy Center. Max emigrated to NYC in the late 1920s. 

With another war on the horizon, Eckardt feared the United States’ supply of German glass ornaments would be compromised, compelling him to found, in 1937, the Shiny Brite Company. The inspiration for the name is obvious: The insides of the ornaments were coated with silver nitrate so they would stay shiny, season after season.

To keep his company afloat, Eckardt sought the help of New York’s Corning Glass Company in 1937—with the promise that Woolworth’s would place a large order if Corning could modify its glass ribbon machine, which made light bulbs, to produce ornaments. The machine switchover was a success—molten glass was shaped into balls with the help of compressed air—and Woolworth’s ordered more than 235,000 ornaments; in December 1939, the first machine-made batch was shipped to Woolworth’s Five-and-Ten-Cent Stores, where they sold for two to ten cents apiece.

My favorite Shiny Brite style.

Eckardt’s fear proved prescient: Hitler’s rise to power, along with the British blockade, stopped the import of European ornaments to the U.S. in 1939.

By 1940, Corning was producing about 300,000 unadorned ornaments per day, sending the clear glass balls to outside artists, including those at Max Eckardt’s factory in New Jersey, for decoration. The ornaments were lined with silver nitrate, then run through a lacquer bath, decorated by Eckardt’s employees, and finally, packaged in brown cardboard boxes. At first, they were strictly silver, but eventually, Eckardt produced red, green, gold, pink, and blue ornaments. Corning also began offering a variety of shapes, including tops, bells, icicles, teardrops, trees, lanterns, and pinecones. 

The showroom address, 45 East 17th Street, NYC, is now a Sephora.

During World War II, however, the lacquer paint and silver lining became scarce, forcing Eckardt to make clear ornaments with thin, pastel stripes, which didn’t require as much pigment. The metal caps and hooks were replaced with cardboard and yarn. Some ornaments came with a tiny sprig of tinsel inside, but eventually, even this small amount of metal was prohibited during the war. 

A Sears catalog ad from the 1950s for Shiny Brite ornaments.

After the war, the crimped metal caps returned, with the addition of the words “Shiny Brite Made in U.S.A.” on the top. As part of the rebuilding effort, the U.S. government shipped Eckardt and his son, Harold, off to West Germany, hoping to breathe new life into the German glass ornament industry. There, they set up a factory in Wallenfells, which they named Lanissa, after Max’s three granddaughters (“L” for Lynne, “an” for Anne, and “issa” for Allison, whose nickname was Lissa). 

Stateside, Corning continued to crank out Shiny Brite ornaments—by the 1950s, production reached a rate of 1,000 per minute. (Machines also now painted the ornaments.) The 1950s was the Shiny Brite heyday, with Eckardt operating four New Jersey factories to keep pace with the demand. In 1955, Thor, a Chicago washing machine manufacturer, purchased the company, which eventually produced about 75 percent of the ornaments sold worldwide. 

Source: Christmas Nostalgia

Eckardt died in late 1961, and shortly thereafter, Shiny Brite's light began to fade, possibly due to the popularization of plastic. In the late 1990s, designer Christopher Radko revived the Shiny Brite name, and in 2001, began selling reproductions of the originals. 

How to Buy the Right Curtains the First Time

The other day, as often happens at HomeGoods, I came across a clearance item I wasn’t looking for—but had to have: four gorgeous pairs of velvet curtains for $30 each. I didn't have a specific purpose in mind for them, but thought they might look nice in my dining room. Or my bedroom. Or my office. I was a bit directionless, clearly, but figured I’d find a place for curtains as stunning as these. 

I purchased one pair and asked the cashier to hold the other three pairs, just in case the panels looked best in my bedroom, which has four windows. 

“Curtains are one of our number one returned items,” she volunteered. “People are always getting the color or size wrong.”

I thought I’d be different. But, alas, the curtains looked terrible in my dining room, since they had to drape awkwardly around a radiator. They only looked slightly better in every other room of my house. 

One day later, I was a HomeGoods cliche: I reluctantly took back the panels—and encountered the same cashier, who repeated her spiel about curtains being an oft-returned item. My conclusion: It was time to do some curtain-buying research—and avoid making the same mistake twice. 

Step 1: Measure!

Before you even consider curtains, determine the dimensions of your windows. Your rule of thumb: Curtains should be about twice the width of your window. (If your curtains are strictly decorative—that is, you don’t intend to close them—you can scale back to 1.5 times the width of the window.) 

Length is a little trickier—where your curtains should fall depends entirely on the mood you want to create. Going for a formal feel? Consider puddling your curtains, tacking on one to three extra inches (any more just looks messy). Cute and casual? Select a a sill-length pair. Classic and tailored? Choose curtains that just touch the floor (or hover, at most, half an inch above the floor).  

To measure, start from the floor (or sill, if that’s what you prefer) and stop just above the window casing, suggest the pros at Better Homes & Gardens.

Step 2: Start at the top.

The top of your panels isn’t just an aesthetic consideration—the way you hang your curtains will affect how they fall from the rod, according to West Elm’s curtain buying guide. Pole pocket curtains—those where you simply slip the rod through a fabric sleeve—create a laid-back, non-uniform look (warning: these don’t easily slide if you plan to open and close them), while those with metal grommets or fabric tabs provide clean lines and smooth pleats (bonus: grommets are the easiest to slide).

The most elegant option? Hidden tabs, which give curtains a tailored, custom appearance. Note: Although curtains rarely have hooks anymore, you may encounter this style if you buy vintage. Hanging with hooks provides a traditional, streamlined look. 

Step 3: Decide on your purpose.

Are you seeking privacy—or just a pretty splash of pattern on your windows? Do you want to block as much light as possible, or dull the glare of the sun only slightly? The purpose of your panels will affect what type of fabric you choose. Cotton curtains let the sun’s rays stream through, linen (and linen blends) offer a little more protection, and wool or velvet panels are one step behind blackout shades, in terms of light-blocking ability, according to West Elm.

Consider the mood your material creates, too: Heavy fabrics, like velvet, create drama and warmth, while cotton gives your space an airy, casual feel. 

Step 4: Pick your pattern or color.

I made the fatal mistake of curtain buying: assuming the color I see in the store—under a fluorescent glow—is the same one I'd see at home. To avoid this pitfall, bring a pillow, a swatch of fabric, or a paint sample with you while shopping; that way, you can be sure to match your curtain color to your palette as closely as possible. If you want your curtains to blend, rather than making a bold statement, select a hue that is a couple shades darker or lighter than your wall color.

A few pointers on pattern: As beautiful as those paisley panels are, ask yourself: Will I still love this pattern on repeat across an entire wall? As a general guideline, large patterns work in large rooms, and small patterns are best in small rooms. (Of course, I’m all about rule-breaking when it comes to decorating, so don’t be afraid to experiment!) 

Inside My New House: The Living Room

My living room.

As soon as I walked into my house, I knew it was the one: The grand staircase, the crystal chandelier in the foyer, and the columns surrounding the living room are the type of elegant details I knew I wouldn’t find in a newer build. Constructed in the early 1900s, the house is a late example of the Second Empire style, complete with the characteristic mansard roof. Perhaps in keeping with the architecture, the previous owner had decorated the interior with heavy antique furniture and thick, dark-colored drapes. I decided to forgo historical accuracy in favor of brighter, lighter decor, built around my trademark blend of new pieces and time-worn antiques.

The living room, as the previous owner had decorated it.

I knew I wanted mint-colored walls, but I didn’t want my living room to look childlike or cartoonish. After buying far too many paint samples, I settled on Breezeway, a Behr color that has all the coolness of mint, without any of the confectionary undertones. 

My first big purchase was the chairs. I’d seen spool chairs in magazines, and fell in love with the intricate shape of the legs. I’m notorious for buying uncomfortable furniture, and didn’t want to make that mistake again. So I splurged on the deep-seated Behnaz Chair from Thomasville. Able to choose a custom fabric and wood finish, I selected a sumptuous velvet—a welcome dose of warmth in a cool room—in almost the exact same color as my walls.

Next, I began the hunt for a rug. A classic Oriental rug would be the obvious choice for an older home, but I wanted something a little more modern. Thus the zebra print. It was meant to be: The rug was sold out everywhere online, but I found the same rug, brand new, on my local Craigslist.

Although the rug is advertised as having gray stripes, they’re actually closer to beige. At first, I was concerned—I tend to go matchy-matchy, making sure every pop of color is exactly the same shade. I decided to override this impulse, selecting the slate-gray curtains (made to look like dupioni silk) I’d originally had in mind. To keep this from looking like a mistake, I chose a blue-gray tufted velvet sofa—the color picks up the mint in the chairs and the gray in the curtains, while the velvet material mirrors the fabric of the chairs.

I bought a bolt of geometric Schumacher fabric on Ebay, and made the throw pillows for the chairs. The fringed gray pillows on the sofa came from Pier One, while the geometric-print pillows are Vera Wang (a Marshall’s find!). 

I already owned the final two big pieces: a 1940s cabinet as my TV stand (a Craigslist purchase from college), and an off-white tufted ottoman I’d purchased at Marshall’s for our previous home.   I added the glass and silver side table for a touch of modernity, then flanked the sofa with two tables in a dark-wood finish similar to the chairs. The white ceramic lamps—a thrift-store find—mimic the curves of the tables, while also bringing a sculptural element to the space. 

For the longest time, the wall above the couch remained blank—I was uninspired, and didn’t want to purchase one of those generic “paintings” from HomeGoods. I wanted something with significance that also made a statement. When I found a booth selling vintage postcards at an area antique store, I knew I’d found my answer—I dug through box after box of postcards, searching for twelve that featured places significant to our life (e.g. Lehigh University, where Frank got his M.B.A.; the park in Allentown where I took wedding photos; a bridge from my hometown). 

One problem: Postcards are tiny, and my wall is huge. I like the simplicity of small pictures with large matting, so I bought square silver frames from Ikea—another modern element—and matted the postcards two to a frame. The entire installation cost me under $100. 

A few meaningful accessories rounded out the room: a coffee-table tray embroidered with the courthouse and city hall just a couple blocks from our house; a silver tea set from Frank’s aunt; a white ceramic horse I bought at a market in Thailand; and a wooden box Frank purchased in Egypt. (I like knick-knacks to have a story, which is why I almost always purchase home decor items when I travel.) 

The final result was exactly what I wanted: a restful space where Asa can play, Frank and I can relax and enjoy a movie, or my friends can gather for a Bible study. That is, a space both beautiful and functional. 

This Mansion is "Rehab Addict" Nicole Curtis's Next Big Project

In Detroit, broken or boarded-up windows and crumbling facades have become the unfortunate norm. But even in the midst of a blighted city, Alfred Street stands out: Just four houses—less than a quarter of the original number—remain, leaving a field, oddly spacious, in the middle of a city. Perhaps the most famous among the final four homes is the Ransom Gillis mansion, a looming brick structure, standing proudly, though now a bit forlornly, on the corner of Alfred Street and John R Street.

The once-stately brick home, built in the Venetian Gothic style for a Detroit dry goods merchant, has been abandoned for decades—until now. Nicole Curtis, host of DIY Network’s hit show Rehab Addict, has undertaken the daunting task of renovating the 5,000-square-foot mansion. (She's partnering with Quicken Loans for the pricey project.)

Ransom Gillis, the original owner.

Over the years, the Ransom Gillis home's purpose has shifted with the times, transitioning from a private residence to a rooming house in 1919, and then, in the 1930s, a storefront was added to the structure. 

The decline of the Brush Park neighborhood began as early as the 1910s, when wealthy Detroit residents began to favor the suburbs over Alfred Street. By the 1920s, all of the homes had been converted to apartments or rooming houses, unofficially signaling the end of the era of opulence. In 1946, a writer called the neighborhood “blighted,” stripped of its elm trees and old-money families, with only “dismal” homes remaining. Now, nearly seven decades later, the description is still unfortunately fitting. 

There have been attempts to save the Ransom Gillis mansion—in the 1970s, the 1980s, and most recently, in the mid-2000s—but all have failed, leaving the home vacant since the 1960s. (The city did shore up its roof and foundation about a decade ago, which may explain why it's still standing at all, after so many years of being unoccupied.) In March, Curtis, a Detroit native, announced her plans to breathe new life into the structure. The renovation is part of a $70 million plan to revitalize the Brush Park area. 

The storefront addition, which has since been torn down.

The exterior alone makes the home worth restoring, but what can you expect to see on the eight episodes of Rehab Addict that follow the home's transformation? The mansion has 11 fireplaces, space for five bedrooms, and a potential master suite with 20-foot ceilings. (See a sneak peak of the interior here.) "It's a happy home," Curtis told Curbed.com. "Every day when I come here, I have goosebumps. If I have goosebumps, that's a good thing."

(Photo: Curbed.com)

(Photo: Curbed.com)

(Photo: Curbed.com)

The home in its glory days. (Photo: Wikipedia.org)

The decline begins... (Photo: 63alfred.com)

Curtis has already started her overhaul of the place, as evidenced by these photos from Google Maps, taken in August:

Curtis recently tweeted a picture of the gorgeous new window she commissioned for the home. If this is a sign of what's to come, the home is going to be a showplace!  

Oreo, It's Time to Stop with the Crazy Flavors

Photo: Slate.com

I used to eagerly check Target end caps, hoping to find a new-and-exotic Oreo flavor, which I’d then buy, regardless of what it was. But I’m starting to experience flavor fatigue. For one, as much as I hate to admit it, nothing beats a classic Oreo. There’s a reason it was the first flavor invented—it’s the best.

But that doesn’t mean I’m above a well-thought-out Oreo spin-off. Problem is, I think Nabisco has stopped thinking, simply cranking out a new Oreo variety once a month, no matter how repulsive it sounds. Every time I go to the supermarket, there’s another one—most recently, there was Pumpkin Spice, Lemon, Berry, and Cookie Dough, among others. 

An Oreo flavor of Halloweens past. (Photo: PopSugar.com)

I’ll admit, I’ve tried the Lemon Oreos, and they’re delicious. But Pumpkin Spice? That’s just jumping on the ever-popular pumpkin bandwagon—and I question whether the Oreo execs actually asked, “Will a pumpkin-flavored Oreo really taste good?” I kind of doubt that it does.  

In my experience, many of the funkier flavors just taste, well, funky. The Birthday Cake Oreos were a terrible letdown. The Cookie Dough ones kind of taste like chemicals. A couple years back, I resorted to pulverizing my Gingerbread Oreos to make a cake ball of sorts, eager to just get them out of my cabinet. I didn’t even dare try the Watermelon or Fruit Punch Oreos.

Photo: HuffingtonPost.com

My research tells me there have been at least 24 odd Oreo attempts, not including the various Golden Oreo and Chocolate Oreo varieties. Here, in alphabetical order: Banana Split, Berry, Berry Burst Ice Cream, Birthday Cake, Blizzard, Candy Cane, Candy Corn, Caramel Apple, Cookie Dough, Cool Mint, Creamsicle, Fruit Punch, Fudge Sundae, Gingerbread, Lemon, Limeade, Marshmallow Crispy, Mint, Neopolitan, Peanut Butter Cup, Pumpkin Spice, Sherbet (or "Shure, Bert!"), Strawberries n' Creme, and Watermelon.

This overload of options, many quite disgusting sounding, has made me unwilling to buy any new Oreo flavor, because the novelty has worn off. So, please, Nabisco, save your fire for truly original—and yummy—flavors. S'mores, perhaps?

HGTV Hosts Then & Now

My man, Pat Simpson.

I've been watching HGTV pretty much forever. But my first real obsession was Before & After, a home remodeling show that I watched every Sunday night with my mom. The host was Pat Simpson, a distinctly normal-looking guy, complete with a hard-to-miss set of bags under his eyes. That didn't stop me from stalking him, though: I had my parents take me to a home show where he was speaking. That was only the beginning of my HGTV addiction.

Since the days of Pat Simpson, the HGTV stars have undergone quite a transformation: The "regular folk" vibe of the hosts has all but disappeared, as talent that could be mistaken for celebrities have taken their place. 


Then: Joan Steffend, host of Decorating Cents 

Now: Sabrina Soto, host of Real Estate Intervention

Then: Clive Owens and Lisa LaPorta, hosts of Designed to Sell

Now: Jamie Durie, host of The Outdoor Room

HGTV.com

Okay, I'm pretty sure his show has been canceled, but he's simply too studly not to include. Consider this my petition for his return. 

Then: Chris Harrison, host of Designer's Challenge

meandhgtv.blogspot.com

Chris Harrison isn't exactly a "normal" guy, but I had to throw him in the mix, because I find it hilarious that the host of The Bachelor used to be on HGTV! (Poor guy can't seem to get a manly gig.) 

Now: Chris Lambton, host of Going Yard

HGTV.com

Apparently, we've gone from Bachelor host to an actual former Bachelorette contestant. 

Then: Michael Payne, host of Designing for the Sexes

michaelpayne.com

Now: Drew Scott, host of Property Brothers

Then: Suzanne Whang, host of "House Hunters"

Now: Nicole Curtis, host of Rehab Addict

Then: Sandra Betzina, host of Sew Perfect

Now: Emily Henderson, host of Secrets from a Stylist 

FamilyCircle.com

5 Country Cooking Secrets from Cracker Barrel

Hashbrown Casserole

This is the restaurant's most popular side—and now it can be your family's favorite at home: Use colby cheese, instead of cheddar, in your hashbrown casserole, which one former Cracker Barrel employee says more closely mimics the actual recipe. Combine all of the ingredients the day before (taking the potatoes straight from the freezer, instead of letting them thaw), then cover and refrigerate the uncooked casserole over night. Finally, use a large spoon to place dollops of the mixture into a greased pan, rather than patting it down firmly with your hand. 

Want a recipe? The person who submitted this one claims her parents acquired it while working on a Cracker Barrel training video. Worth a try, right? 

Biscuits
One Cracker Barrel cook says the secret to the pillowy little biscuits is simplicity: White Lily self-rising flour (2 cups), buttermilk (2/3 cup), shortening (1/3 cup), and nothing more. Combine the flour and shortening, add the buttermilk, and mix for one minute; roll 'em out, cut 'em into circles, and bake for  8 minutes at 450° F. While they're hot, brush your biscuits with melted butter. An awesome quote from the Cracker Barrel employee who leaked this recipe: "That's how I do it, and cannot say if that's how I also do it at work." Sounds like a guilty conscience to me. 

Meatloaf
Instead of using standard breadcrumbs in your meatloaf, crumble up homemade buttermilk biscuits, which employees say is the key to a Cracker Barrel-like loaf. 

Fried Apples
You'll find bacon drippings in most copycat recipes for Cracker Barrel's fried apples, but at least one employee says that addition isn't actually a part of the recipe. 

Pancakes
The pancake mix for sale in the country store is likely the same stuff used in the kitchen: One former worker says the chefs just use a mix (which has an unusual ingredient: rye flour), to which they add water, wait 10 minutes for the batter to rise, and then whisk until smooth. The ideal temperature for your griddle: 400° F