Disclosure: I wrote this, but Soraa sponsored the post. If they were able to sway my opinion at all, this would probably read like much more like an actual mature person wrote it. What I’m saying is, Soraa sponsored this, but the gratuitous use of “boob”, along with my opinions, were all my own doing.
This is the boob light.
I hate this light.
Wait, let me back up.
The second floor of our house was an add-on to our 1930’s Cape Cod. Most Cape Cod houses have the master bedroom on the first floor, and ours is no different. However, after living in one bedroom apartments for the greater part of a decade, Steve and I wanted to embrace the ability to walk upstairs to our bedroom, away from street level noise (though, to be fair, our neighborhood is incredibly quiet….most likely due to the fact that we’re probably 30 – 40 years younger than the majority of our neighbors), so we took one of the bedrooms upstairs, used the other upstairs bedroom for my office, and turned the downstairs bedroom into our guest room.
That’s a very long intro to say that since we took one of the add-on upstairs bedrooms of a Cape Cod house with angled ceilings, we have no closet and no room for one unless we add a dormer (someday!). Thus, we’ve converted the upstairs landing to our own version of a walk-in closet.
Here is where the boob light lives. It’s one of those things that came with the house which you want to replace, but it does its job well enough that you’ll “get around to it someday.”
I wish I could take credit for “boob light” since that sounds like it’s right up my vernacular, but it seems to be a standardized reference to this type of light fixture. And I guess, as light fixtures go, it’s not the ugliest boob light. It’s a little industrial looking, which you know I love, and it’s never done any wrong by us per se. It’s what’s underneath that is the bane of my existence.
You see, when we moved here, we knew nothing about lighting in interior design. I grabbed whatever light bulbs were on sale at Home Depot and called it a day…and I’ve been living with that mistake for nearly two years. Here’s our closet with the light on.
You know, nothing really makes you feel sexy like having a ghoulish overcast above you in the mirror. That’s right, I picked cool-hued lights.
And my apathy for changing out that light never waned. That’s when Soraa reached out to me and were like “Oh honey, no. Let us literally show you the light” and they became my new lighting gurus.
Soraa saw the disasterpiece theatre that is my closet and recommended I give their Radiant light bulbs a shot. The bulbs are designed to showcase full spectrum color so that every color looks natural under their lights, the way it’s supposed to be. They actually use Soraa bulbs in museums because of how well they light without altering the natural colors of art and fossils. So what I’m saying is, our hallway closet was about to get fancy.
I mean, a no-brainer when it comes to lighting in your closet, yes? So I gave it a go.
First off, these light bulbs are a little hefty, but not as substantial as their “Healthy” bulbs (which I have in my office to help counteract all the blue lights trying to get up in my eyeballs).
I got one out of the box and immediately felt that feeling you get when you lift something heavy and realize it’s actually built well, like good crystal…or the immensely dense black hole that is Jimmy Bagels when it’s time to go to the vet.
So I carefully navigated unscrewing the boob light and installing these new light bulbs, and what a difference it made.
You ever live with something long enough that you just get used to it and don’t realize how poor it’s making your quality of life? That’s how I felt when I installed these Soraa Radiant bulbs and saw the difference.
Now all of our clothing, shoes, and Jimmy Bagels’ toys (keeping it real here) look the way they’re supposed to, and we’ve stopped having a Nosferatu-esque quality to our complexions when we look in the mirror.