I like to think that my husband has good taste...really, I do. I mean, after all he did marry me. I know he undoubtedly lost style points when he thought that tapered jeans were still all the rage after 1995, but I've since straightened him out...and he'll now deny ever even wearing the things.
However, he has horrible taste in home decorating (really, just in the realm of mirrors.) I decided to paint pretty much most of the upstairs. At first, the reason was all the dented up walls (courtesy of the two little anklebiters that reside here), but then I saw an even better reason for deciding to redecorate.