Ok dudes, no time for a biggo long post because K-Dawg and I are going to check out some chairs for her patio. Exhibit A:

These are advertised as “Hanry Bertoia” chairs and they’re priced at $140.

Say what?

For reals. And here’s the scoop: if these are actually Bertoia Diamond Lounge chairs, they be worth MAD skrilla. Like, almost a grand EACH. At least that’s what DWR is listing them at. But is the price $140 for each chair, or $140 for the set of four? Dunno. And I’m not calling ahead to sound the “oh shit, maybe I underpriced these” alarm. Also, are they just knockoffs? Because, according to the interwebs, knockoff chairs are priced at $140 each. Hmmmm, very suspicious. Also, I don’t know whether to expect the real deal from a seller who can’t spell Harry. Seriously, man… Hanry? Were you confused as to whether it might be Henry or Harry, and just decided to split the difference?

Cross your fingers and hope that Karly is about to score the deal of the century. And don’t forget to tune in next week to see what happens.

Oh, and while I’m nagging you guys, be sure to leave a comment here by next Monday for your chance to win a super rad recycled tote bag from Poketo. I already have my jealous stink eye ready for the winners.

Happy weekend!

Every once in a while I catch myself totally aware of my love for a trend.  I’ll be completely enraptured with a color or a style and will go ape-shit crazy hunting it down and buying it up well aware, albeit sadly, that the love affair will end in one or two short seasons.

I’ve been pretty whack-a-doodle crazy about white walls for a while.  I keep waiting for it to pass, hesitant to paint yet another room in my house white, wondering what will come next.  Well, apparently next up is white.  Yep, 2 years into my love affair with crisp walls, I renewed my trend-vows when I stumbled upon the interiors of Nacho Polo.  That’s Nacho Polo Spanish designer, not to be confused with Nacho the Polo player from Argentina, who’s hotty hotness was featured in this month’s Elle Decor.

Let’s see if you all are still smitten with white as well:

Ok, so this may be the meeting ground for every single trend of 2009 (hello bust and metallic gold tile) but you can’t fight me on the awesomeness of this space.  You just can’t.

I am a fan of monochromatic texture.  Especially if it’s white and anchored by a sexy black lamp at the end of the hallway.

There’s that bust again.

Prey tell, why would you paint your walls any other color with that sort of architectural detail and groovy view?

This must be the room we were seeing at the end of the white hallway.  And this is a list of things I love:  those chairs, that candelabra.  Lovelovelove.

For those of you who need a little more pattern mixed in with your white (I’m guilty of this a-plenty) Nacho brings stripes to the game.

And what better color to accent your large scale soft core artwork?  Yep, you got it.

So, what do you say?  Are you dudes still down with white?

Today marks day one of The Hunny’s stupid week long business trip to LA, which means for the next five days it’ll just be me and precious Baby Ike. Now I’m not a religious person, but I do believe I just crossed myself all Father, Son and Holy Ghost, style. Anyhoo, Karly promised to think about maybe possibly potentially accompanying me and the babe on an Ikea shopping spree this Friday, which would be Ike’s second trip to Ikea although he visited at least 867 times in utero. In fact, we went so often while renovating the kitchen that we may have named our firstborn son after Ikea (he’s going to love this story when he gets older).

These days I can’t just jet off to Austin’s northernmost reaches whenever I feel like it — I have to PLAN, so I think I’m going to get started by typing up my dreamboat shopping list. Some of these things might get boughten, and some of them might not. By Friday, I will probably be playing fast and loose with the credit card, but I can always claim delirium as an excuse.

Part Most of Ikea’s allure lies in its flagrant cheapitude. Clockwise from top left: the Fado pendant light will be going over the kitchen sink (but you know I will be painting that hardware a bronzy gold), Gilda pillows for the living room, yet more Aina linen curtains to form a giant sexy curtain wall behind my bed, and loads of Elly dishtowels.

I have no use whatsoever for either of these new Ikea Charlotta fabrics, but I am in love, sweet love, with both of them, especially the Block print on the left.

How adorable is Ikea’s new Dekad alarm clock? As if I needed something other than Ike to help me wake up… Whatevs. For $5.99, it’s coming home with mama.

The time has come for Ike to get a highchair, and I had been planning — nay, counting — on buying Ikea’s Leopard chair on the left, but it got discontinued due to some supposed safety issues. DAMN IT. Now, instead of looking at a Casala inspired, ultra cool leopard, I’m going to have to settle for a wimpy old Antilop. Definitely not king of the jungle, but least it’s cheap.

In other news, I have a pillow and blanket problem. Behold:

Cute stuff: Karlstad, super cheap Henny, and Gilda pillows in two different colors.

My blanket fetish has been spurred to new heights by these inexpensive offerings. Clockwise from top left: Henny, Stoff in charcoal and natural, and Sticka.

ZOMG I want this so bad! The new Solig solar powered floor lamps are scorching hot.

Ok, so what I really want is this dumb CB2 knit pouf thing, but it only comes in puke green. WHY CB2? WHYYYY? Must everything come in some kicky punch color? Would it kill you to make it in white or black or gray? Whatever. I plan to fill the gaping pouffle shaped hole in my life with Ikea’s Alseda, which is A) not green and B) hella cheap. $29.99 — take that, CB2 bitches!

I want a new bed, so I plan to peruse Ikea’s offerings. So far, I’m interested in these fine specimens:

Queen of ubiquity, the Malm. Perhaps painted white?

I’m pretty intrigued by the Aneboda’s shape, but I’m a little concerned about those screw things in the corners. Will this look like a cheap piece of crap?

And of course there is the super dreamy Edland, which would unfortunately draw the eye right up to the nursty faux wood grained ceiling fan over our bed. What? It gets hot in Texas.

Does anybody have one of these beds? Do they even make them in King sizes?

Speaking of cheap, what do you think about this:

I’m a little embarrassed to even post the Tranby, but I’ve been looking for a pair of round mirrors for my living room and why the bleep is everything so expensive? I don’t know about this, though… I kind of feel like it belongs at TJ Maxx.

And finally, IMPORTANT! IMPORTANT! I need your help:

We neeeeed a new rug, and I want something big, cheap and flatwoven, because I am sick to death of woolen tumbleweeds blowing through the house. Which of these Stockholm rugs do you prefer for my living room? The furniture has been rearranged, but the pieces are still the same. I’m worried that the triangle rug will be too busy, but will the striped one get dirty on the white parts? Plus everyone in the universe has the striped one — should that disqualify it? Plus I’m not even sure that Ikea still makes the large 8.5 x 11 size. Does anyone know if they still carry it?

Ok, by my calculations I have spent approximately $3459 virtual dollars, and that doesn’t even include all the cinnamon rolls and ice cream cones I plan to eat. Gotta trim the list down. What do you dudes like?

Despite my long standing love for hardwood floors, I extolled the virtues of carpet in Monday’s post. This mystifying self revelation came about when I started to calculate potential renovation expenses, because carpet be cheap. True, carpet can be crazy ass expensive (Camilla from Designalogue wrote in to say she installed wall to wall ALPACA freaking carpet in a client’s home), but if you’re a careful shopper, it can also be quite reasonable. Although I’ve never had carpet installed, Collyn of ModFruGal has, and she quotes her price for hardwood flooring plus installation as being around $10 (our cost was similar when we redid the kitchen floors), vs carpet at around $4. So, if you’re covering a lot of sq footage like The Hunny and I may be in our new/old dream home, that is a HUGE difference. Still, I’d like to explore all possible cheap flooring options, and lovely reader Michael pointed us in the direction of plywood floors.

Say what???? First I wax poetic about carpet, and now plywood?

No really. It’s kind of awesome.

I mean, would you be mad if your floors looked like this? (Thanks to Michael for the image!)

I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised at this woody turn of events, since this isn’t the first post I’ve written about how chic plywood can be. But it is interesting to see it used as flooring in homes where hardwoods or concrete would traditionally have been the materials of choice.

Marine plywood in a super modern Italian designed house. via Dezeen

And of course you could always paint your floors, like this plywood floor in an art studio. Since it’s plywood, you don’t have to feel bad about covering your beautiful hardwoods.

These plywood floors were painted to look all rusticky and stuff. Via Coastal Living

Perhaps imperfect floors would give you the perfect excuse to experiment with designs. Although the next set of images are traditional hardwoods, these ideas could work equally well on inexpensive plywood. via Design Sponge

I always like a good checkerboard. In muted tones, the pattern remains very neutral.

This room isn’t really my style, but I like the idea of painted stripes.

These are marble, but there’s no reason you couldn’t inject some hot geo drama into your floors, as in this Miles Redd designed home.

But of course, white painted floors are always a popular choice. Check out Door Sixteen for excellent info on how to paint your floors white here. Image via Living Etc.

Although an opaque paint would most easily disguise flooring imperfections, a nicer plywood floor would look awesome with a translucent stain that allows the grain to show through.

Stenciled and stained chevron hallway via Alicia B Designs.

This room is a little too country, but the floor rocks. via Country Living

This diagonally stained room by Mark Cutler is AWESOME. He explains how to do it here.

The simple, ebony stained floors in this home designed by Sabrina Bignami could still be gorgeous in plywood.

So I’m thinking plywood sounds like an interesting flooring option, but I’m a little concerned about installation. Do you glue the boards to the floor? Nail them to each other somehow, so that they float? What happens when the boards expand and contract? Does anyone have plywood floors, or have experience installing them?

Inquiring minds need to know.

It seems that the whole world has gone electric: The Yellow Pages, Google Books, Kindel, and now Lonny. Whither our friend paper? For those of us with an old  timey bent, paper holds a special, tactile quality that the internet cannot replace. One is compactly informational, and one is sensory and dimensional. So today’s post celebrates a quality often taken for granted but inherent to paper itself — volume. And speaking of volume, I’m feeling pretty deflated, so this is going to be short on words and long on pictures. Enjoy!

Ingrid Siliakus

Simon Schubert

Johan Hybschmann

Peter Callesen

That’s about all the awesomeness I can rustle up for today, friends. I’m going to rest up and hopefully I’ll be back tomorrow in full force.

Until then, Baises!

Someday, I dream of building my own home in the country. It’s a pastoral dream, filled with ponies and haybales and verdant acres of rolling hills and dales. Ok, so it’s not likely to happen, A) because Austin is too damn hot to be verdant, and B) because the prices for new construction make my eyes gog out like a cartoon character. And that horn sound happens, too. So, maybe what I need to do is cut the finishing costs on my dream home. I can live without fancy molding, polished concrete would be ok by me, and why not jettison the sheetrock while we’re at it?

The Wall House by FAR architects does away with many luxuries to create an ultra modern space that hovers in the nether region of home/tent/cave. What I am not ditching in the name of cost are those windows, since I plan to lay in bed and watch the ponies graze my sun scorched estate all morning long.

OWI

Don’t worry, I’ll still take my books and cute furniture with me. Just cuz I’m living in a plywood hut doesn’t mean I have to live like a nun.

I’m hoping the shower area will be a bit nicer, not that I don’t find the rubber duckies and oceanic liner, uh, charming. This just looks like a mold factory in the making.

Living, Etc

Well, that’s better. Yep, those walls are plywood, cut and set in fancy pattern, so fancy that glorious lucite chandelier looks perfectly at home.

In living spaces, I appreciate the contrast in materials. This home of an art loving couple mixes high and low to the extreme. That console table would be an overwrought nightmare anywhere else; here it’s kind of ironic. And the head is staring at me.

I found this beauty over at Roseland Greene. I’ve always liked wood on wood, but this is on another level. I have to say, the walls really set off the gorgeous credenza. Hmmm… everything looks better next to plywood?

OWI

Of course, if I tire of plywood in my country estate, I could always turn to particle board for a change of pace. What do you think? Grandma and Grandpa obviously approve, and I could just throw a bale of hay in the corner for the ponies.

It certainly looks like an aristocratic country estate, right? I might be a bit concerned about relaxing by the fire with a pipe, though. In any case, I’d double up on the fire insurance for this little tinderbox beauty.

Oh yes, I saved the best for last, yes I did.  No joke — I would move into this gorgeous Paris loft in a heartbeat. Except that I do not live in Paris. Wait, why do I not live in Paris, again?

I’ll just steal the ideas for my future plans, because I bet this kitchen cost substantially less than my own remodel, and it’s pretty fresh. Can you imagine it stained dark dark brown? Hubba hubba.

Sleeping under a big Texas sky with the ponies lowing in the fields below (ponies can low, right?), I would congratulate myself on living a modern life out in the country. As long as I can get HBO out there, I think I will be ok.

I pretty much don’t buy new things. Mostly it’s because I’m cheap, but when I’m making some pretense at self righteousness (usually when trying to justify the purchase of yet another thrifted chair to the Hunny), I say that I’m saving the earth. Pretty much single handedly. Ok, Karly helps, too. However, we’re remodeling our kitchen, and gosh darn it’s hard to thrift built in cabinets. Plus we’re furnishing/decorating a nursery, and used sheets and rugs for le bebe just won’t work for me. This newfound taste for uh, newness, has resulted in THREE trips to Ikea in the past week alone. If you’ve never been to an Ikea store, just know that a) there is never one conveniently located by your house and b) it takes hours just to navigate the showroom labyrinth.

You see, Ikea’s “floorplan” is actually a nefarious plot designed to keep you trapped within the store for the longest possible time without actually causing brain damage. But I can tell you, it comes damn close. So today, I’m going to shower you with all the Ikea knowledge I’ve gleaned over the past few months of epic trips, in the vain hope that I might spot some goodies for you and prevent Ikea overload should you ever step into the store yourself. Even so, it might be best to tie a rope to your car, all Poltergeist style. Just in case.

First of all, what in the world have I bought there? Well, this corner of our nursery (yes, there is a bed in our nursery, but don’t worry — there’s a crib, too) features a Ludde sheepskin on the rocker ($49.95), the Stockholm nubby throw ($29.99), a pair of black Jorun pillows ($14.99 ea), and linen Aina curtains ($49.99 for 2). Sorry, Le Tigre is not available at Ikea. I have to say that of all these items, I think the curtains are a steal. They’re linen, 8 ft tall with rod pockets in the back and faux pinch pleats in the front. Good deal.

Additionally, I’ve bought a bazillion dollars worth of kitchen stuff there, including Abstrakt white cabinets and Nexus brown black cabinets. (You can read all about my obsession with both in this post.) I’ve been shopping for some kitchen accessories to go with, and I think these Asker egg shaped cups on rails are pretty swift. They also look nice in this cute office, which is sadly marred by that creepy “Hello.” Link via Apartment Therapy.

And, of course, I love my giant wicker beehive light ($89.99 for the biggun) that hangs in our dining room, which currently looks nothing like this. At all.

In addition to all these purchases, my pinched pocketbook lusts after — but will probably not buy — the following items:

Blob lights! Ok, I might actually buy a pair of these bad boys because THE HUNNY LIKES THEM. This does not happen. Ever. Ikea Jonisk, $49.99. Awesome proportions — it’s big.

I would also lurve to have an entirely new patio set… alas, I am broke. But if you’re shopping for a giant umbrella, Ikea has some super fantastic ones. This cantilevered badass is HUGE. Ikea Karlso, $129.00 for 10 feet of shade.

Ikea also rolled out these new deck chairs for the summer season. Brommo has all the elements of a classic: clean lines, decent construction, and it’s comfy. Plus you gotta love a good rope chair. $59.99.

You could always imitate the effervescent Ione Skye and buy these lounge chairs for your outdoor wonderland. Karl Skrona is kinda pricey at $169, but if it’s good enough for ex Mrs. David Netto… (Netto, what were you thinking, anyway? Ione is adorable!)

If you’re among the rich and famous and have $129 to burn on ONE chair, the Ange is Salternini sweet. Oh, and Karly and I would each like a set of six while you’re at it. Thanks!

Anna from Door Sixteen has the Karlstad couch, and I have to say that sucker is super comfortable! Another friend has the same sofa in a sectional configuration, and I am sorely tempted to sell my leather sofas and buy one, too. It’s that squishy good. Do yourself a favor and buy the best fabric they have. $599 for gray wool flannel.

One of Ikea’s greatest strengths is probably their textiles; the rugs in particular are priced well considering the materials and patterns. Clockwise from top left: 1) Admete, two sided cotton runner, $19. 2) Flatweave Jorun, two sided wool, $179. 3) Tarnby, braided jute $99 (much nicer in person — very thick). 4) Stockholm, wool, $229.

They had some pretty cute new duvet covers when I was there, too. Love this one in a child’s room, styled by Creature Comforts. Unni Slinga, $19.99 for duvet cover and two pillowcases.

Ikea’s other greatest strength is its straight up cheapness when it comes to the basics:

Remember my last post about Blobs where I waxed hateful on Damien Hirst and how damn much money he makes for “designing” things like the light configuration in this home? Well, eight Ikea lights later and you’ve got your very own Damien Hirst design. Left: Lillholmen, $9.99. Right: Fado, $29.99. Boo ya!

So, in closing, I would like to summarize all the things I like about Ikea: 1) It’s cheap. 2) Sometimes it’s cool. 3) They have great customer service, as in they will take ANYTHING back. Are you listening muthereffing Target? I’m also in love with tiny Bob, the kitchen designer at the Austin store, and Kumar, the most excellent customer service dude, ever. 4) They have this new deal where using your debit card nets you a 3% credit on your next trip. Yay! Free money! 5) They only have reusable bags — no disposable plastic nasties. 7) “Ice cream” cones. 6) Occasionally they give their products very funny names, like this corkscrew:

But it’s not all sweet smelling rosy stuff. There are things I hate about Ikea, too. 1) It’s far away. 2) It’s really far away. 3) The zombies:

If you’ve ever been to a brick and mortar Ikea store, then you know eactly what I’m talking about.

If the slumping economy is bringing you nightmares straight from the 80’s of a suffering stock market, inflated cost of living, and an inexplicable rise in the popularity of MC Hammer pants, you’re not alone. Today, even the typically robust Austin housing market posted a 4% drop in housing prices over last year. Not a good sign. And cities across America have been so hard hit by the recent wave of foreclosures that tent cities have sprung up like mushrooms in the shadow of a dark econolyptic fallout cloud.

For now, Sacramento, CA, appears to be the capital of Hooverville, thanks in part to efforts by the Governator to set aside sanctioned areas for what one can only hope will be temporary living quarters.

SF Gate ran a sad story with lots of pictures featuring people eating out of tin cans and drying wet blankets on clotheslines, straight out of a Walker Evans/James Agee report on the 30’s dustbowl. But somehow I find this image of a guy playing frisbee with his dog the saddest. Dude, that is a tire.

Now hubby and I are fortunate enough to live a comfortable — if modest — life. But we’ve got a baby on the way so he’s (at least temporarily) the sole breadwinner, and if hubby got laid off we’d be living in a tent down by the river faster than you could say, “Rest in peace, Chris Farley.”

My point is that it could happen to any of us, so I think we need to come up with a contingency plan, because I don’t want to live in a filthy tent while my poop smeared baby plays with tires. I want to be homeless in style.

Plan 1: Squat in one of these amazing abandoned Detroit homes. Detroit’s real estate market has been decimated so completely that the median home price there has fallen to $18k, and an increasing number of people are fleeing the city center and moving outwards.

It’s a sad fact that real estate is all about location, location, location, because any one of these homes would fetch $500k plus in an historic Austin neighborhood. Since I’ll never be able to afford to buy one of those, I imagine that I would enjoy playing house in a ramshackle Victorian, Craftsman, or even a crumbling farmhouse, while blissfully ignoring the hoopty whips, potholes and plywood doors all around me. Beggars can’t be choosers, right?

Plan 2: Build a cardboard spaceship and wait to be rescued by aliens, because you know Calgon ain’t gonna take you away.

Seriously, Miwa Takabayashi designed this cardboard structure to fit inside a mall, so that it could serve as a “refuge for our over-simulated and consumer-driven world.” Or it could serve as a house in our very under-stimulated world. If you still want to pitch your cardboard tent inside the ghost mall, that’s your own decision; I’m sure the mall would be grateful to have even the appearance of consumers these days.

As long as I’m living in a cardboard house, I’d like a matching cardboard office. Obviously existentialist creative agency, Nothing, set up this corrugated funhouse in Amsterdam.

True, I may have to scale back the designs a wee bit to fit inside my space pod, but I’m pretty stoked that I can steal electricity from the mall and run it through cardboard. That’s not a fire hazard, is it? At any rate, I’m going to need a place to plug in my computer so I can keep blogging. Joblessness should leave us with some extra time on our hands.

Oh, ok. Maybe these sweet structures aren’t really in keeping with the whole “Tent City” vibe.

Plan 3: Live in a house that looks like a tent. See, it’s a house, but it has a tent facade! It should blend right in with the other homeless homes, right?

What? It’s totally down to earth. Look how minimal it is, what with the plywood walls, no pillow action and cheap folding chairs. Ok, so although it’s restrained, it’s not exactly living free. The glass alone must have cost a mint, but maybe I could fake it with some sticks and saran wrap?

FINE. I’ll take it down another notch.

Plan 4: Live in an actual tent city. Is this proletarian enough for you? Look enough like a tent city? Because that’s what it is. Tents. Together. Forming a city. Well, if I have to live in an actual tent, I’d at least like it to be pretty and colorful, like these tents set up by Studio Orta.

Whee, so whimisical with the colorful flags emblazoned on the sides — I feel uplifted already. On my tent, we’d fly the flags of Cardboard Corner and Derelict Drive, to show solidarity with our homeless sistahs and bruddahs. Now I know not a lot of stuff will fit into this tiny tent, but besides the obvious necessities — hubby, fetus, soap — I’m bringing one other, very important accessory:

My ratty tatty blankie that I’ve had since I was born. You’d have to pry this little scrap of security from my cold, dead hands in order to make me part with it. Besides, in Hooverville, the well worn look is in.

If you had to live in a tent, what one special item would you bring? Think of it as Hobo Survivor.