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I'm starting to love the color of my bedroom. And I'm starting to think Melisse was right that it's a very Art Deco color. And here's some proof from Apartment Therapy LA. Narida's bathroom in the Fall Color Contest.
Who's in love with AT today?
Never mind my tree wall. Guess what they found over at Apartment Therapy? Trees that draw...
I've lived most of my life without a proper stereo. Growing up we had one of those huge counsole things that had a turntable and an 8-track tape player, but we never really listened to much music. My mother sang Puccini while she did the dishes. Which is funny considering the fact that she studied musical theater in college. Lately she's been caught listening to Billy Joel's "Glass Houses" on 8-track. If she knew how to comment on this blog, I'm sure she'd say I'm being fanciful, but until she does I can say whatever I want about her...
Okay, so those aren't so nice maybe. What about these? I found the Tenje Goodbuy up there on the fabulous Crib Candy.
Also found this chrome Swerley Pendant on Crib Candy. It's from this British store Heal's. But there are just little lights at the end of those chrome bars--not sure that would really light the hall.
Or this beautiful vintage Italian light from Rewire that I probably can't afford. Or this from Green Light Concepts one made with recycled automobile plastic light cover material which I can definitely afford... Or check out the freaky human hair light after the jump... 
Yesterday I decided that Oscar Wilde was going to be my point of departure for my bedroom decor. Specifically his play Salome illustrated by Aubrey Beardsley. I got really excited thinking about doing a kind of cherry blossom mural on the wall or getting some Chinoiserie wallpaper. Then I remembered Salome and her dance of the seven veils. What if I put seven framed scarves that were my grandmother's up on the wall--like the one above?
What do we think of this? Is it offensive and "Orientalist"?
I just bought this great tree print--"I'll go" by Rachel Salomon--from a site called Tiny Showcase. It's a collection of artists who choose one tiny piece of art each week and create a limited run of prints, which they sell for very little money. I paid $20 for this one. A portion of the sales price goes to a charity of the artist's choice.
Addendum: I just discovered that Grace at design*sponge saw the same painting...
Can this outfit be turned into a room? I think we're about to find out. Because I've found my inspiration for my bedroom. It's my old pal Oscar Wilde, posed here as Salome. I'd completely forgotten about this picture until I discovered it on this blog, Uncovering, which is a complete mystery to me--I can't figure out who it is or what it is. It could be that my Portugese is too rusty... Let me know if you figure it out.
In any case, I kind of like the sumptuousness of the Marie Antoinette look--you can see a behind-the-scenes video of our photo shoot on this site--but phooey on her. I heart Oscar Wilde more. I even dressed up as him for Halloween one year. I mean look at him--even as himself. That's like the Platonic ideal of horror vacui. I'll have more to say about why Oscar Wilde is my hero tomorrow. I have to think about it.
It was inevitable that the shiny refinished wood floors would get scratched, but I didn't think it'd be this soon. I was trying to move this dresser by myself yesterday--note the towel--and oopsie, I made an enormous, deep scratch on the floor near the wall and lots of long, subtler ones all across the room.
Normally I would despair about it remind myself that I ruin everything nice that I have, but for some reason I'm being all calm about it. I mean, at least it was me who did it.
I can't bear to show you the scratch just yet, but I wonder if anyone has any tips about fixing scratches on an otherwise pristine floor...
See this shelf? If it were yours would you strip it and keep it or send it off to the Salvation Army?
Our own Thaddeus Kromelis has FINISHED his kitchen renovation and will be stepping down and the end of this week. Have a small space and need ideas? Want to know what you're getting into when you choose marble countertops? Quick, take a look at what he's done. I'm going to be tackling my kitchen at some point and intend to take some of his advice.
Bye Thaddeus, we'll miss you...
When I came back from the art show the other night, I noticed that a box of Lindt chocolate I had in the kitchen was askew. Since Emma the cat prefers yogurt to sweets, I knew some other little mouse must have been in it while I was out. But I got distracted by my grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup and forgot about the whole thing.
Then I went into the bedroom, where my friend (and neighbor with key) Melissa had left these two adorable pillows she made for me with vintage fabric she found at a secondhand store. She was going to make cushions for my garden chairs, but she didn't have enough fabric so I got these in addition (or instead).
They make me really happy. What cushions make you happy?
So the show's over. Three of my box constructions were included-pictured here. The red one is called "don't look a gift horse in the mouth"--everything in it was a gift from someone. The small brown one you might recognize--that's "you do the math", and the third, below, is called "asylum".
Two things: After this, I'm back on topic. And two: more photos after the jump...
(Photos by David Mimran)
In response to my Paradox of Choice post and sheet shopping, Gradon of Design Boston suggests that at some point thread count doesn't matter anymore. Well he puts it this way: "at a certain point the feeling of all those threads doesn't change by a noticeable degree." Can you really tell the difference between 1000 thread count sheets and 400 thread count sheets if they're both, say, 100% Egyptian cotton?
How many threads is enough?
"Fluvial"
Two people have requested that I share my art. I make dioramas out of old drawers, cigar boxes and whatever else turns up. Here are some bad photos. And here are a few of my more precious ones called "You Do the Math" and "There's No Place Like Home". It was really hard sending a few of them off to be potentially sold at the Stacks show.
"Tomb"
Want to see my artist statement?
Last night I went to the staff preview of the Domino Bazaar which Grace tells you about on design*sponge. I spent so much time videotaping that I couldn't shop. But when I left, I headed to Bed, Bath and Beyond, where I intended to buy some really great sheets.
Man do they have a lot of sheets... So many, in fact, that I got overwhelmed and left empty-handed. I'm thinking I want Egyptian cotton and not sateen, but I just don't know. And so many thread counts. Yikes.
Reminds me of this great book, The Paradox of Choice by Barry Schwartz I read about how we have so many choices we can't make decisions anymore.
If I can figure out how to upload my video, I'll give you a little peak at the Bazaar...
Is anybody going to go?
So, my co-worker sent this invite to Stacks, an Affordable 3-D art show that's going on this weekend. My first thought was--cool, I can get some art for the house. My second thought--the fatal one it turns out--was to hit reply and say, "I should be in this show!" Just like that. A second later, I got a new email message. From myself. Saying, you guessed it. I had hit reply all without realizing that she sent the message to the entire office. Whoopsie. Now everyone I work with thinks I'm an egomaniac.
But, the squeaky wheel gets the oil. Because my co-worker wound up emailing the curator, Nathan Pickett and now he may include one of my pieces in the show. It's a guerilla art show--they go in, set up Sunday morning and leave that night by nine. Then the whole installation moves from place to place. It would be really cool if I got in the show, especially since Cool Hunting picked up the story.
I'll keep you posted.
Oh boy, did I just get a treat--this new Rizzoli book, Pattern by Tricia Guild is great. It goes through all kinds of patterns--geometric, Chinoiserie, chintz, stripes, pictorial, etc.--providing a bit of history, lots of great, inspiring photos. It's exactly what I need right now, don't you think?
Here you go, Karell... Funny thing is, as I do this, I realize it looks like it took a month to paint a tiny hallway. I'm not sure how to take pictures so you can see the lighter blue. Any tips? And do you want to see the white walls in the long hallway too? Maybe we should paint the space above the picture railing and the celing in that hallway another color.
Here's my favorite--the peach bathroom against the turquoise blue--at first I was horrified and then I decided it's very Germinatrix California 40's bungalow. Ya think?
Have I mentioned that I don't have curtains..or blinds? Ivy is my cover. But this morning I noticed that the leaves are changing and starting to fall off the vines like so many popped balloons in a retro burlesque act. Call me modest, but I think it's time to get curtains.
Thanks to Holly at decor8 for reporting on the first US Marimekko store--you can also read about it in the Boston Globe--and reminding me that I've been dying for Marimekko curtains for years.
Right now, I'm kind of obssessed with this Anna Danielsson pattern called Tsunami in black and white. It just seems really Deco to me. But that may be because it's such a small swatch.
Has anyone seen this used for curtains? Have I gone mad?
(Photos from the Boston Globe)
At first I loved it. Then I hated it. Now I'm not sure. Is this normal?
I'm back in my house, and to be honest instead of feeling unadulterated joy; I'm kind of sad. And I think I know why.
It's not just that I now face the daunting task of actually decorating--though there is certainly that. It's that I made all these decisions--instigated all these changes in my life and my environment--all by myself (with your good counsel, dear reader). And I feel very alone with the results.
Take my bed (pictured above with Djuna the cat). It feels very temporary--hell, I can't even find a good, clean bottom sheet to put on it. But something momentous has happened. Most importantly, it's in a new place in the room. For the first time since I moved into the apartment with my ex-boyfriend, the bed faces east, and the bedroom feels like it's mine and mine alone. Who knew 90 degrees and a coat of paint could make such a difference? By literally putting my head in a different place, I feel like I put my head in a different place. At least this morning.
I love to connect a face (and a blog) to a username. So you can imagine how thrilled I was when "grady" aka Gradon of Design Boston introduced himself. He's always got something honest and interesting to say about my neurotic decorating process, and tasteful suggestions. So it's not surprising to find a beautifully designed blog about...well, I'll let you guess and go see for yourself.
In any case, his last comment is worth noting. Bed skirts are out. Platform beds are in. Okay, those aren't his exact words. Nevertheless, he brings up an interesting issue for me. Because I think bed skirts can be really prissy. And I'm not prissy. At least I like to think I'm not. But I love this bed skirt--it's really thick cotton, turquoise, and a far cry from prissy--you can see it way up at the top of my messy closet. Plus, it was a windfall (read, free).
I need something to cover the hoards of stuff I hide under my bed. But as you may recall, my rotten cat Emma has taken to climbing up into the box spring to sleep (and scratch) (and drive me crazy) in the middle of the night. So maybe a platform bed is exactly what I need.
What do you think, dear reader, do I need a captain's bed?
I'm afraid to go home, so I haven't yet. But I think the painting is finished. So here's a question. If you had a room my color blue, and a turquoise bed skirt, would you get patterned Dwell bedding or some plain sheets? I'm leaning towards plain...
So it looks like a cross between something my father had in his office and the light in our suburban basement. What do you think? Yeah or nay?
Close ups after the jump...
Call me robin. Because I'm going to be waking up in this robin's egg blue room from now on... I like it, I think.
I had a hard day on Saturday and was weepy because I feel so displaced. Then I went into this room and felt all that stuff coming back to me about how I always wanted a blue bedroom and never had one, etc. It was like there was a white canopied bed sitting right there on top of all the scraped paint and red rosin paper rug. But don't panic; I'm not getting a canopied bed.
What do you think of the color?
