Welcome to Rug University… or more likely, Rug Kindergarten. The art and craft of weaving carpets is centuries old and even though I have spent years off and on reading about rugs, my knowledge is just a blip on the radar of fiber history. People who really know their stuff usually possess deep generational knowledge about the subject. I am just a crazy person who loves rugs and I’m sure I’ll say something stupid somewhere. Oh well. What I can offer you is information on how and where to buy, and hopefully how not to get ripped off.

Deal? Let’s do this.

For this series of rugucational posts I’m only going to deal with woven natural fiber rugs, or rugs that do not have a latex/canvas backing. They could be made of wool, or cotton, or other natural fibers, but they have no backing and the design is visible on both sides.

This is the backside of my handwoven (knotted) malayer rug.

I’ve been moving away from tufted (latex/canvas backed) wool rugs and towards handwoven wool, cotton, and jute rugs for a while now. Reading The Rug Chick’s blog about how shoddily (and stinkily) many tufted rugs are produced totally confirmed a lot of my fears about mass produced wool rugs. I’m not saying all tufted rugs are poorly made — I’m very happy with the Safavieh leopard rug in our front room:

I’m just saying I prefer to spend my skrillaz on rugs that have the potential to last for decades… if my boys don’t burn holes in them first, that is.

Anyway, today let’s talk about woven rugs that will go with anything. These are your cheap and chic workhorses that generally come in under $5 sq/ft — sometimes a lot less.

It’s a good idea to decorate a room from the ground up. If you choose your rug first, you’ll never have a problem finding fabrics and (even easier) paint colors to coordinate. Working from the opposite direction really narrows your opportunities for interesting and hopefully cheap rugs. Trust me — I found out the hard way.

This post goes out to all the peeps like me who need a rug to play nice with the stuff they already have.

A solid field is the very easiest thing to decorate around. I suspect that’s why jute/sisal/seagrass rugs are so popular. Plus they can be pretty inexpensive and they hide dirt well. Of the three, seagrass is the best to clean but the most expensive, although you can custom order seagrass rugs in any size with dozens of border options at The Perfect Rug for a very reasonable price. Jute is second, and sisal is the pits of hell. To maximize your cost/benefit ratio, you can buy jute and get it from Overstock (wait for a 10% off sale and try to stack a coupon on top) or get it from RugsUSA during one of their 50% sales.

This handsome guy is $180 for an 8×10 HERE.

I don’t consider these to be forever rugs, but natural fiber rugs definitely deserve consideration. I like how they can casual up a room and add a natural element, which is especially nice if you don’t already have wood floors.

Plus these rugs layer up right pretty and they can be so cheap.

A very simple geometric that runs edge to edge is the next easiest to decorate around. I put wool Moroccan beni ourains in this class. MFAMB just did a round up on cheap sources HERE so I won’t cover that ground again.

Any furniture, any colors, almost any fabrics will do. Your rug will be an unsanitary disaster in no time, but that’s another story.

I am constantly picking pollen and leaves out of the West Elm faux beni in our very low traffic nursery. It sure is cute, though. Don’t spend much on this type of a rug, and for the love of all that is holy buy something small enough to shake it out every now and then.

All over patterns (like the one I just bought, for example) are also relatively easy to decorate around because they have no borders and no center medallions — things that can make furniture placement tricky.

Tony Duquette makes it look easy, but let’s face it — nothing about this room is easy.

If you have a wonky inflexible furniture plan and buying a rug is stressing you out, an allover design is your friend.

I don’t hate this Madeleine Weinrib rug, but I personally would never buy a giant cotton rug I couldn’t throw in the washing machine. You want wool — delicious stain repellent wool.

Dhurries (aka kilims, aka flatweave rugs) are relatively inexpensive because they use fewer materials than full pile rugs. This wool dhurrie came from overstock and it’s dirt cheap — $262 for an 8×10. Even Ikea can’t beat that price. Overstock actually has a multitude of well priced wool flatweaves in various colors and patterns. I’m partial to striped or tribal versions, personally… trellis and chevron are feeling pretty dated.

This looks like it might be a wool kilim. I would hit that. Dhurries are nice because they can be used on both sides before they need to be washed. I like to think that a wool dhurrie rug could last for decades if padded, rotated and treated to the occasional bath.

If you buy a dhurrie, a good rug pad is a must. I’ve shopped around and this one from overstock is the best I’ve found. It’s soft, squishy, does the job and doesn’t mark up my wood floors.

The next level of quality and design represents a fairly significant jump in expense. I’m talking about Tibetan type rugs.

I wish I were talking about Tibetan tiger rugs, but a) they aren’t cheap and b) they don’t exactly go with just anything.

Who am I kidding? This goes with everything.

But really I’m talking more about tone on tone hand knotted wool Tibetans:

This may or may not be a Tibetan, but they are often woven in simple muted patterns.

This one is silk and wool. Unlike other handwoven (hand knotted) wool pile rugs, they do not have fringe.

Warning: there are a lot of creepy 80s Memphis wannabe patterned Tibetan rugs out there. Don’t buy them.

Anyway, “Tibetan” rugs are interesting in that they aren’t made in Tibet (because of Chinese occupation). Most are made in India by Tibetan and Nepalese workers… or not. The could also just be handknotted Indian rugs made in a “Tibetan style.” I don’t really have a problem with that as long as the wool is nice quality and it’s handmade. Just don’t pay $8000 for a rug unless you get an appraisal.

Shouldn’t be an issue, right?

I bought mine off Ebay from Pakobel Rugs. He doesn’t have any Tibetan/Nepalese (he spells it “Napalese”) rugs right now, but you should check back since he gets them in waves. I HIGHLY recommend him — totally professional and courteous.

In the meantime, may I suggest this 8×10 handknotted Tibetan style rug for $375? So awesome with kelly green and white. Available HERE from brandrugs on ebay.

I would buy from them because they have a 100% positive feedback rating. Also, all good pro ebay rug dealers will give you a 14 day return option. It’s a safety net that could be expensive to use (I have return shipped a rug and it’s not cheap), but it’s good to have just in case. Also, use paypal in case you need an extra level of protection for disputes.

The last category of neutral rugs I have the strength and endurance to tackle today is the beloved Turkish Oushak.

This super light super subtly patterned rug is an antique Oushak (Ushak). Every decorator and their mama wants an antique Oushak because it goes with anything and it adds that certain handmade, natural/organic element every room needs.

Problem is, a real antique (80+ years old) Oushak is expensive… even on ebay. You can, however, buy a newish one at a competitive price. They will most likely be knotted in India or Pakistan (Peshawar), but they still have the soft colors and large scale patterns that work with a variety of decorating styles. I like Rug Emporium’s listings:

He lists new Oushak type rugs every day. Some are blue, some green, some very light and neutral. I’d wait for a light neutral one with an allover pattern (no center medallion) to pop up. 9x12s tend to close in the $500-700 range, which is not bad for a large hand knotted rug.

Just fyi, Oushaks can also come in fabulous pastel colors that may not go with everything but are still awesome and amazing. Here’s a rug I wish I had bought… it’s an actual vintage Turkish rug and it is HUGE (like 10×16). It went for over 1K which is totally worth it, but totally out of my price range. It sure is good, though.

Can you even imagine how long it would take to make a giant rug like that?

Forever, that’s how long. And that’s why hand knotted rugs are expensive.

That’s all I have for today. Thanks for reading this giant long novel. I hope you’re still awake.

For my next installment I’m planning a post on purchasing Persian type rugs. Excitement! And I also have a post in the works about other kinds of fancy antique rugs.

Let me know if there’s anything specific you want to see and I’ll try to work it in.

Until then, happy shopping!

[Images via pinterest]

Thanks to everyone for your super smart rug suggestions on my last post. I followed your links and made moodboards and generally drove myself banana sandwiches trying to fit all the moving parts and variables together… do I switch this rug or sell that rug? Layer something small with seagrass or save up and spend big money to buy a big rug? Truth is, I tend to buy antique rugs that may or may not fit in the spaces I had planned for them. Hand made rugs are like pieces of art, and I need to have an emotional attachment before I can have a financial relationship.

I mean I would totally marry this rug, which is very similar to some antique Turkish rugs Karly and I saw at Round Top last weekend. Prices were INSANE, like we were shopping at 1st Dibs instead of a country flea market. The rugs were superb, though. I’ve never seen that kind of quality in person and I wanted to roll around all over the rugs like a dog in heat.

I am also not above having an affair with this rug I’m watching on ebay right now. It’s huge and very old and ridiculously expensive and I LOVE IT. Too bad I’m not rich.

Anyway, I’m not the most practical when it comes to buying rugs for myself, and I just wasn’t feeling anything I could find in my budget. So when reader Jill sent out the bat signal that a local antiques gallery was having a meganormous rug sale in a parking lot, I thought what the hay… I’ll load up the babe and head out early to see what I can see.

 The calm before the storm…

I felt like I had just strolled into a third world country when I arrived, and by strolled I mean I stupidly brought my sweet seven month old baby in a stroller to the windiest, dirtiest, cheapest place on earth. And then something about the vast mountains of concealed fabric transformed me into a frantic suburban hyena panting after the scent of blood, tossing the place in order to see every single rug there (luckily/not luckily I wasn’t the only one).

Totally embarrassing.

I knew there must be something good in those stacks, but every time I forced a nice worker man to dig out the very bottom rug, it inevitably turned up to be a filthy pee stained lime green and brown persian rug. Barf.

Y’all, I have NEVER seen that much dirt anywhere, and I have peed in poop troughs near diseased chickens and pigs deep in the Mexican back country. There was dirt in my teeth (!), dirt on the baby’s face, dirt all over my stroller cum vaguely handy shopping cart… I had to hose that sad boy down with lysol after I left.

The rugs were so dirty you couldn’t even tell what color they were. D.I.R.T.Y.

And then, magically, Jill showed up. She probably didn’t recognize me beneath the layers of sooty filth, but she did recognize my very unhappy baby — the baby I brought to contract some exotic infectious disease from the dirt.

Mother of the year. That’s me.

Thankfully Jill turned out to be a super nice, very normal person with excellent taste. To wit, she pulled up this shockingly not too filthy rug. And then she passed it on to me. Behold.

But what is it??? It’s huge for one thing — 11 ft square. It’s also very old, like maybe 100 years? It’s wool and it weighs a million hundred pounds. The seller dude said it was hooked. And that’s about all I know.

For scale.

It’s not discolored, the field color is actually taupeish and the shadows are from folds.

I have since super mega vacuumed the rug, and I think it’s miraculously not too dirty. I mean, it’s old but not scabies dirty.

But what the what is it?

I know some things about rugs. Like anything I care about, I have obsessively researched Persian rugs since I first started buying them a few years ago. I can tell the difference between a Kerman and a Hamedan (kinda easy, I know), and I can tell you about abrash, kpsi, desirable colors and patterns, etc, but this here is not a Persian rug.

Is it an early American hooked rug?

A French Savonnerie?

Perhaps Spanish?

Or maybe even Chinese?

Here’s the back. I think the foundation is jute… or maybe burlap?

Does anyone know anything about this here rug?

Because I’m not sure whether to keep or sell. I think if I keep, it will live in the bedroom and the bedroom rug will move to tapestry town.

But if it’s worth some real money I might sell it and buy something more in line with the rest of my rug collection.

Or maybe it’s super awesome and I need to learn to love it?

If only I knew what it was…

Anyone?

Keep or sell?

[top image via because it's awesome]

First of all, THANK YOU for commenting on Luke’s room tour! Sorry I rewarded you by taking the next week off for spring break. I’m a jerkface.

So, I have a grand history of choosing, unchoosing, pondering, debating, analyzing, and general indecisiveness when it comes to rugs. Either the size isn’t right, or the color is unknown, the pattern scale is off, or woolen tumbleweeds threaten to eat my home. No matter which way you slice it, unless you plan to just jute it up all over the place, rugs are hard. And if you’re like me, you have champagne taste on a beer budget, which SRSLY compounds the problem. It’s not like I can walk into abc carpet or the rug company and throw $10,000 at the problem. What’s left is the west elm outlet — which I have found to work well for scatter rugs — or the internets.

Thank the bargain gods for ebay and overstock. I love them long time. But buying a rug you’ve never seen and will be difficult at best to return is a major pain in the warp and weft.

Buckle up and let’s discuss the latest debacle, shall we? Some back story, first:

This? Oh, this isn’t the problem. Sort of. See I bought this vintage Malayer rug off ebay a few years ago and I love it and its jewel toned, crumb hiding, hand made awesomeness. The problem, as we have discussed previously, is that it’s too small for this loooooooong room:

I know. I can’t believe our house looked like this right after we moved in, either.

To recap, the table is gonezo and now this lives back there:

Except of course I have compulsively rearranged stuff n things since then. Der. The credenza and the white console swapped places, and now I have a terrible desk but a better looking back wall.

I am all about practicality, aka I need a real (super awesome) desk.

Anyhow, the runner was a little overpowering and a lot slippery, I really really really need a rug back here to protect our floors from little boys and their floor gougery. Plus something soft and plush would be nice to sit on and play legos and other annoyingly small and many pieced games little boys like to play.

I previously tried a 6×9 rug, thinking it might fill the space.

I was wrong, and we all know where that rug ended up.

Here’s the thing: what I really want is a 13×18 persian rug to fill the whole room, but even on ebay cool ones price out in the 2k range. Since the kitchen has me on mega budget 2013 with my belt strapped on so tight I fretted over a $7 Ross dress, 2k is just not going to happen. So I went off and spent $300 on another ebay rug that is too small.

Hey Erin, aren’t you a professional photographer? Why, yes I am. But I snapped these iphone pics to show Karly right after I rolled out the rug, and then I promptly rolled it up. And threw out my back. So enjoy these gorgeous works of art. And enjoy the baby bouncer, most of all.

Also, please do not assume the console styling is for realz. And Gilbert, the leopard pillows are just for you.

6×10 hand knotted deliciousness… too small, right?

I should return this, right?

I need a 9×12 that fits almost end to end with the front room rug I already have, right?

Now I just have to find one that I like under $500. Also it has to flow with the other rug. Also also it has to look good with the back room stuff.

This?

This?

This?

This?

This?

Sike! None of these are going to be under $500.

Rugs are dumb.

Please help me by either finding a cheap wool 9×12 that I like (I am tres picky), or by hiring me to take pictures and/or spend your money on decorating projects…

Assuming you have more money than me, that is.

Thanks for reading today’s novel. I will be laying down and icing my back now. Me and my phone await your solutions to all of my problems.

Yes, I am still alive. I know it may seem like I fell off the face of earth, but that’s only because you don’t follow me on pinterest. Ahhhh, pinterest. Is there any place easier to access with my left hand whilst the right shoves a boob in the baby‘s mouth at 5 am? Nay, I say there is not. And what pinterest is bringing me these days is tile envy. Major major tile envy.

Tile in the kitchen…

Tile in the bathroom…

[Design Manifest]

Tile, tile, tile.

I could go on, but I’m getting sad. Just before Christmas I helped the in laws redo their guest bathroom, and seeing all that fresh new marble go in reminded me that our bathrooms look like this:

I feel that I should defend the cleanliness of our grout — it really is cleaner than it looks in the picture! I promise! Maybe it’s wet or something??? — but seriously, what’s the point? That is 10 pounds of shit packed into a five pound bag. Completely indefensible.

I would kill for those $1 black and white checkerboard tiles (set in a diamond pattern, please), and even the cheapo white square ceramic tiles behind the tub. I don’t need fancy — I need NEUTRAL. For heaven’s sake, who thought greenish khaki (basically bile colored) tiles were flattering in a bathroom?

Oh, and let’s not forget the kitchen.

What. The. What.

So this is how things break down: since we moved in I have either been sick and pregnant, on bedrest, or the caretaker of a newborn and a sassy three year old (they’re still here — just older). I did my best to transform the things I could with paint, curtains, fabric, etc., but there is some fundamental horribleness lurking in this house that must be demolished. The tile must die. The cabinets must be painted. A bowling ball might accidentally be dropped on the granite counters.

I need to win the lottery.

And/or maybe learn how to set tile.

In the meantime, I’m going to return periodically to take you on a tour of the cute rooms I have “finished,” and probably you will be so wowed by my magnificent decorating and photography skills that you will hire me to help you do one of those things.

Won’t someone think of the tile? For only the price of a cup of coffee a day it could be saved.

As long as that cup of coffee is a grande starbucks somethingccino with 24k gold sprinkles on top, but who’s counting.

It’s good to be back.

Happy New Year!

Thanks for all the comments about my curtain conundrum — especially the ones that said nice things about our house. It’s not where I want it to be, but hopefully it’s better than where it started. I mean, how could it possibly be worse than green carpet, khaki paint, and overstuffed mushroom farts furniture? I really had nowhere to go but up.

Anyhow, I ordered some more curtains that are going to blow your minds… maybe in a bad way. Or maybe not. That’s the problem with choosing fabric — it’s crazy hard unless you have tons of experience. Personally I’m hoping the brute force of trial and error builds experience, because there’s really no other excuse for my OCD behavioral tics.

Speaking of fabric, have you seen this?

I’m pretty sure Jesus flew down on a chariot driven by angels just so he could deposit this on my doorstep.

I’m really important like that.

So this handy chart tells me lots of things, things like I can’t afford to swath this chair:

In any of Perennials’ gorgeously soft and luxurious OUTDOOR fabrics, like this blue velvet that would be perfect in the nursery:

Or this slubby chenille faux bois that I’m kind of in love with… it’s not nearly as busy in real life.

But $80/yd (to the trade price) x 5 yards (according to my new chart) = $400 just for fabric. Not including overage. Not including upholstery labor. Sooooooo, no.

However maybe I could afford to use fancy fabric on this chair:

Because it only requires 2.5 yards.

Small pattern if I keep the buttons.

Bigger pattern if I don’t.

See how handy the chart is?

I’m kind of obsessed with finding furniture in my house and calculating the yardage.

I feel so empowered, even though I don’t know anything about sewing and fabrics and upholstery.

But I’m learning.

Happy Friday, y’alluns.

Verily I say unto thee, go forth and reupholster the world!

[Perennials Fabrics]

Sorry I couldn’t respond to all your wonderful advice yesterday, but since the doctor stole a gallon of my blood, made me drink a hideous glucose confection, and gave me a shot to which I had some weird feverish reaction, I thought it best to hide out until I could string three words together without sounding like a raving brain dead pregnant lunatic. Although let’s face it — that’s pretty much who I am 24/7 these days.

Anyhow, I read and greatly appreciated every single one of your comments. Thank you! Extra special thanks to those I psycho emailed with 800 questions. I feel ever so much better today and will try to avoid doing that again… no promises, though.

So, I started reviewing my dining inspiration files and noticed a distinct trend:

White, white, and more white tulip tables.

I know the wood tops are sexy and seductive, but I think for longevity a white table will afford me the most possibilities. ANYTHING goes with a white tulip table. Anything.

See? It’s just as happy with traditional as with modern.

So now the question is marble or painted white. Both have their pros and cons. I’m going to call the sales rep today and let him try to talk me into the marble — it’s only $336 more so I’m going to splurge if I think it’s a sound purchase.

Will let you know how it goes.

And thank you for talking me out of the rugs. As much as I hate my tile, I just cannot make two big decisions at once.

You guys are the deciders and I love you.

[Casa Orlandi, Barrie Benson, Yatzer, Tom Scheerer, Barrie Benson, unknown, Decorno, Fawn Galli, Christian May, all via pinterest]

I’ve been seeing a lot of painted ceilings lately:

Ooohhhh ahhhh, pretty!

But I tell you dudes what: I would think long and hard before I did something like this. We just painted a ton of ceilings in our house, because the stupid previous owners decided that the fugly khaki green beige on the walls would look just as smashing on the ceilings. And I guess it does — if by “smashing” you mean “like the inside of a butt.”

After seeing the difference a coat of light, neutral paint makes, I don’t think I’ll be painting any ceilings dark or dramatic colors unless they are A) at least 10 feet tall, B) in rooms with lots of light, or C) in dark rooms where you want the ceiling to merge with the wall — thus reducing contrast and enlarging the space.

I have none of those things going on at my house, therefore me and my bucket of Simply White shall continue to do battle with the exorcist vomit spewed all over our ceilings.

But maybe I’m wrong. Have you ever gone wild on the ceiling? Was it a good thing?

Later, taters. The lovely inlaws have Ike so I plan to tackle tons o’ work today.

[images via my pinterest, sorry I'm so lazy]

It’s takes a lot to wow me on a morning when I’m coughing up a lung and still haven’t had any coffee, even though it’s almost 9am. Still, it can be done. But let us not mince words. Let us instead look upon some rooms that have the wow factor I found a little lacking in my mockup of Ike’s room. And let us not make comparisons between me and Simon Cowell. I would hate to think that this blog is devolving into the American Idol of interior decor… or maybe that would be awesome? America — you be the judge!

So what can we ascertain about the wow factor from these pictures?

#1. It looks expensive, because it often (but not necessarily) is.

#2. Scale is an issue — bigger is better in terms of creating a focal point.

#3. It could be paint, wallpaper, lighting, textiles, a giant head shaped sofa, you know — whatever. But it’s the hook that compels you to look at the rest of the room.

Now my background is in art, not interior design, so someone will probably come along and tell me what an ignorant douche I am.

No biggie.

But I would like to know what your favorite means for creating a visual hook is.

Tell mama.

[too sick and lazy to link -- go to my pinterest for sources]

Yesterday we thanked The Rev for such a beauteous day off, and then we hit the San Marcos outlets in search of treasure. Because shopping is about cultivating peace and understanding, right? If we hadn’t actually found something worthy of the trip, I would be depressed that I live such a miserable and shallow existence. On the other hand, have you seen what was happening with our tv situation?

RAGE. ANGER.

Also, WOW I really need to take some new pics of the house. But I am lazy and Ike is home sick, so no pictures today.

I suck.

Anyhow, this is what we bought to disguise our components and “blend in” with the wall. Say hello to the West Elm Niche buffet. It usually retails for $699, but we got it for $199 because it had a few tiny chips here and there. High five.

While I kept holding out for some amazing antique to come my way, it actually fits the space fairly well. And it was cheap, so when Better Half Ben figures out how to hide the components by running cable through 2x4s and bricks (probably never), I won’t feel bad about abandoning ship.

Now I just need to figure out how to style this sucker.

I shamelessly stole this image from Naomi of Design Manifest‘s pinterest, which is a total douche move because she was probably planning to post it tomorrow but I need it NOW.

To put myself back in Naomi’s good graces (fingers crossed), I’m showing her Ikea Rast hacks that she used as a tv credenza. Crafty as all get out. I’m thinking I should paint the hardware on the Niche gold, and then steal the shelf idea. Because I am a thief.

I find Celerie Kemble‘s tv set up both charming and hilarious. Should I just put a giant vase full of flowers in front of the tv, cross my fingers, and pray no one notices it’s there? Awesome.

And then there’s fabulous Laura Day. No matter how many times I post this picture, it’s never enough. My take away from this image is to make sure I tune the tv to 2001 or A Clockwork Orange before I photograph it in situ. Oh, and to buy an amazing Ello mirrored credenza, stat.

File that one under #thingsthatwillneverhappen.

Now, if you will excuse me, I have some Downton Abbey to watch. Later, taters.

I know I’m a tease for stringing you along without showing the money shot, but sadly I have no pictures of my dumb fireplace today. I just haven’t been home long enough to get anything done, and today promises more of the same. Oh holidays, in many ways you are ruining my “life.” If I seem a little melodramaculous, it’s because I’m still bent out of shape over what must be done with the fireplace. I enjoyed your comments yesterday, so much so that I even made up a mock sketch of a charcoal fireplace:

I’m calling that a no… I think. I do love the idea of adding some shades, though.

I’m going to try REALLY HARD to just hang a damn picture on the fireplace today, mostly so you don’t have to endure the tragedy that is shabby chic white painted fan grates winking at you with crusty old maid eyes. In the meantime, please enjoy these pictures of fireplaces that don’t suck.

Why can’t my fireplace look like any of these? Why god WHY?

Deep breaths. Mellow. Blood pressure dropping.

Until tomorrow.

[Casa Mollino, Colombe Stevens, AD, Abigail Ahern, Nina Campbell]

Remember how ugly our brick fireplace is? Of course you do, because that was the last post I wrote (sorry for not updating more frequently — it really is insane how all consuming moving can be). So, now that we have new living room paint (yay Sanders!) and floors, the fugtacular brick fireplace must be destroyed. Like seriously, I would love to take a sledgehammer to it. Some demolition happy people suggested we rip it out entirely, and we are indeed considering a major overhaul somewhere down the line. But for now, I just need to tone that shit down. Way down. Justin Bieber’s publicist down. So paint is the obvious answer.

I’m sure a white painted fireplace would look great (non sequitur sidenote: I totally have that side table but bigger).

Look how easy quirky Miss AB Chao makes it look.

I also like the look of Morgan’s charcoal painted fireplace, over at Ye Old Brick House.

But I think what I want is something not quite opaque… more like this:

How cute is that house, by the way?

Or maybe even less opaque, like this.

I don’t know. It could turn out super kooky, but I’d like to try whitewashing before I commit to completely covering the brick. I think a lil rustic feel would be a nice foil for all my shiny disco furniture.

What I want to know is: have you ever whitewashed brick? Did you use lime like an old school badass? Because I’m kind of into that idea… did I ever tell you that I used to make daguerreotypes when I was a full time analog photographer? I like chemicals.

If not lime, then what? I don’t want a plasticky, hermetically sealed look.

At least not until my chemical laden plans fail on an epic scale.

[Remodelista, AB Chao, Brick House, Blue Rose Gold, Design Ties]

Sure I have a master’s degree in photography, but why would I use a real camera to take pictures when I can use my phone? Yeah, I’m a dolt. But I’m also very tired and I’m getting sick, so it is what it is. Don’t worry — better pictures will follow, but I thought that maybe you’d forgive my laziness if I threw you wooden bone. Behold:

Ok, that is a really bad picture — so bad I can’t believe I’m even posting it. Please note that the 2000 cans of paint samples are applying pressure to a board I asked to have ripped out and replaced because I thought it was too dark. And because I am a nightmare. Also note that there are 2000 cans of paint samples. I really have a problem.

That is some wholesome rustic goodness, though. I need some leggy sculptural pieces to provide the proper foil… I think I’m going for a bad girl Euro vibe. Maybe kind of like this:

Or maybe more comfortable.

We’ll see how that pans out.