Hgtv Quotes

You know why I love HGTV? It's not just that I get a peek into other people's lives. It's that everyone's always thrilled with the end result, whether they're redecorating an unfortunate room, selling a house, or cleaning up another contractor's mess. I love for a happy ending, and HGTV is perpetually upbeat and optimistic. The shows are all about problem solving, not drama creating.

I’m borderline addicted to HGTV. It’s not healthy.

Put it on HGTV—I think Fixer Upper is on.” “How many times can you watch Joanna Gaines say ‘French doors here’ and ‘Put a beam on it’ before it gets old?” Before I can answer Lucas with How dare you insult Jo, my phone rings.

True,” he says, “but I haven’t had any luck yet tracking down the stretch of beach where thirtysomethings go to smoke weed.” “Oh, they’re all just vaping from their beds while watching HGTV.

Yep. Chaps. And, you know, the SNN thing." "S&M?" "That's what I said. I love that stuff. S&M. BDSM. HGTV. The whole deal.

Jen Hatmaker is the author of the New York Times bestseller For the Love (plus eleven other books) and happy hostess of a tightly knit online community where she reaches millions of people each week. She is a high-functioning introvert who lives her home life in yoga pants and her travel life in fancy yoga pants. She and her husband, Brandon, founded the Legacy Collective, a giving community that granted more than a million dollars in its first year and funds sustainable solutions to systemic problems locally and globally. They also starred in the popular series My Big Family Renovation on HGTV and stayed married through a six-month remodel. Jen is a mom to five, a sought-after speaker, and a delighted resident of Austin, Texas, where she and her family are helping keep Austin weird. For more information, visit jenhatmaker.com.

*Thrown-Together Disaster Funeral is my new HGTV show. It’s a makeover funeral show where three flamboyant gay guys and a judgmental sassy broad (think Wanda Sykes) crash a tacky funeral and fix it. Wanda’s catchphrase is “Nuh-huh. Everyone out of this church. This funeral is a disaster.

There are times when all I want to do is scream into a pillow. But slowly, on a personal level, it has gotten better—or at least less terrible. I did quite a bit of thinking and writing, some praying, some stewing, and, in time, a good deal of laughing. I went on a lot of long walks in the woods with my husband and our dogs, Tally and Maisie, who took all this much better than we did. I surrounded myself with friends and caught up on some of the shows that people have been telling me about for years, as well as a lot of HGTV. Best of all, I spent time with my wonderful grandchildren, making up for all the bedtime stories and songs in the bathtub I missed during my long months on the campaign trail. I believe this is what some call “self-care.” It turns out, it’s pretty great.

Typically, “letting my hair down” meant that I would sit in front of the television and binge-watch HGTV for hours at a time. Many a weekend since the divorce had been spent this way. My obsession with Chip and Joanna Gaines had reached epic proportions by now. To the point that I seriously contemplated moving to Waco, Tx before settling on New York.

This place,” Sophie said, looking around at the ranch-house kitchen the next morning, “needs a woman’s touch. Or maybe a crack decorating crew from HGTV or DIY.

Niall folded Dermot to him. I could see Dermot’s face, and it was ecstatic, frightened, everything I had felt in Niall’s embrace. Niall said, “You won’t be a fairy anymore. The American fae are all leaving. Choose.” The conflict on Dermot’s face was painful to see. “Sookie,” he said, “who can finish your upstairs work?” “I’ll hire Terry Bellefleur,” I said. “He won’t be as good as you, Dermot.” “No television,” Dermot said. “I’ll miss HGTV.” Then he smiled. “But I can’t live without my essence, and I am your son, Niall.” Niall beamed down at Dermot, which was what Dermot had wanted his whole life.

Months earlier, I'd become so fed up with the relentless, carnival-barker commentary on CNN, MSNBC, and Fox News that I'd permanently blacklisted those channels during my evenings at home, treating myself instead to a more steadying diet of E! and HGTV. At the end of a busy day, I will tell you, there is nothing better than watching a young couple find their dream home in Nashville or some young bride-to-be saying yes to the dress.

Chip and Joanna Gaines fix up houses. Chip, a strapping blond man who looks like he is named Chip, does the construction, and Joanna, one of those infuriating people who seems to be smart and funny and talented and pretty and nice, is in charge of design. The formula of their show Fixer Upper, which ran for five seasons on HGTV, was simple but foolproof: First, live in Waco, Texas, where 14,000-square-foot midcentury mansions somehow cost $74,000. Knock down all interior walls. Cover every surface in “shiplap,” which is expensive for “boards.” Add one wall clock the size of Jupiter’s moon Callisto. Contract local youth pastor/blacksmith to create custom art piece spelling the family’s last name out in reclaimed horseshoes. Repeat.

It looks just as bougie as I remember. Her walls are painted sky blue with swirls of white stenciled in, giving it a sort of whimsical vibe. The white canopy over her bed also helps with that. Her floor is covered with the softest carpet I’ve ever felt in a blue-gray color that goes nicely with the walls. All the furniture in the room is white, and I don’t know how everything still looks this clean and put together. Maybe she cleaned it in preparation for us? Regardless, I’ve always thought this room didn’t feel like Amira. When I think of Amira, I see bright colors and random items from all her various activities that Ma is always telling me she does. Trophies, her dance uniform—things like that. Instead, Amira’s room looks like something spit out from those renovation shows Ma loves to watch on HGTV.

walls are painted sky blue with swirls of white stenciled in, giving it a sort of whimsical vibe. The white canopy over her bed also helps with that. Her floor is covered with the softest carpet I’ve ever felt in a blue-gray color that goes nicely with the walls. All the furniture in the room is white, and I don’t know how everything still looks this clean and put together. Maybe she cleaned it in preparation for us? Regardless, I’ve always thought this room didn’t feel like Amira. When I think of Amira, I see bright colors and random items from all her various activities that Ma is always telling me she does. Trophies, her dance uniform—things like that. Instead, Amira’s room looks like something spit out from those renovation shows Ma loves to watch on HGTV.

Holding onto unused items is taking from you, not giving. They are taking your time to maintain them, your space to store them, and your happiness by cluttering up your home.