If there's any doubt that the world is changing, just consider the role of the simple, essential telephone. The stern, heavy, black phone once found in Grandma's parlor has evolved into a lightweight, cordless fashion statement that can offer a game of blackjack, take messages, or photograph your sister--and still place a call.

But the telephone has always represented more than its technology. Years ago, it was a unique appliance--usually only one to a household--that sat prominently on its specially designed table or hung in a built-in nook. It had the status of an altar object, and when it rang, the family responded with an almost religious zeal, dropping tasks and conversations, racing through the house to answer the call.

One of my teenage dreams was realized when I received my own telephone. How sophisticated to lie back on a pillow, twine the cord around my finger, and gaze at the dial of my turquoise Princess phone while I shared intimate secrets first with girlfriends and then, later, boys. That phone was also the beginning of my decorating aspirations. I immediately redid my entire bedroom in vivid shades of lavender--and turquoise.

Now, there's a demand for compact, sleek, and fashion-forward phones. The phone must look cool, but also be adaptable so its owner can make it look cooler, changing colors and sounds to express personal identity and individual mood. When you pick up your phone, you want everything about it to say, "It's for you."

But for all of its literal bells and whistles, Internet access, wireless e-mail, and picture-sending capability, today's digital phone is really not so far removed from my beloved Princess model. It lets me stay in touch, listen, learn, work, and gossip. And it does it in the highest of styles. Perhaps the greatest difference is that wireless technology has made the phone less an object of home and more a personal link to home. As a teen, I may have spent hours "tying up the line," but at least my parents always knew where I was when the phone was busy. Today when I call my college-age son and ask, "Where are you?" the answers can range from driving to a concert to a hissed "Mom, I'm in the middle of class!" As disconcerting as it is to be so far removed from loved ones, there's reassurance, too, in a device that lets me reach my family wherever they may be and, if only for a few minutes, put us in touch once more.

Chris Madden shares her message of "turning home into haven" through her books (the latest, Haven, was published in May) and her weekly HG-YV show Interiors by Design.

COPYRIGHT 2004 Meredith Corporation