A while back my pal David John of the uberfantastic blog You Have Been Here Sometime casually informed me that he had worked for Jamie Bush, architect and designer extraordinaire. I shouldn’t have been the least bit surprised because David John is ultra talented, super educated, and lots of other important stuff. And then I started stalking Jamie Bush… dude has some genius solutions for odd spaces, and he knows how to work materials like nobody’s business.

Just when I think I’m over Mid Mod, this comes along to remind me that I’m only over erstatz Mid Mod — the ugly lovechild of fleabitten avocado green upholstery and big box espresso veneer.

I would happily sell my soul to live in a place like this — half baked neotrad aspirations be damned.

I never said I wasn’t a fickle beast.

[Pics via Remodelista]

As the weather starts to dip into the low 90s here in austin, I can feel myself starting to crave a hot tea and cardigan sweater.  Ahhh yes, weather below 100 degrees:  You feel like fall.  Fall:  I want to spend you here:

Yep, that will do.

Also, happy birthday to my sweety!  He is one million and twelve today.  Good thing I love him.

PS, this is Luis Barragan architecture via

It is a sweltering 106 degrees here in Austin with zero zip zilch signs that summer will end any time soon (I have my sights set on you, November) but the interwebs tell me that the rest of the world is taking that last jump off the rope swing into the lake ‘cuza schools starting soon and, for the lucky majority of you, leaves will be (gasp) changing color.

Well, I want in.  I am ready for a seasonal change.  One so imminent that I hold tight to the last days of summer, sadly watching them zoom by.  Squeezing in one last summer vacation before I snuggle into my boots and jacket.  Yep, I’m shutting my eyes tight and pretending that summer is about to end.  I’m spending the last days here:

Oh, did I forget to mention that I own a fantasy summer home in Portugal.  So sorry, let me go on:

Back in the real world I do actually own a giant green lamp much like this one, as well as a handmade woven stool.  Maybe If I ask Erin real kind and nice like she will spend the next several weeks on craigslist finding me all the other goodies I need to bring it all together.  The lamp is, like, a huge start, right?

A quick reminder:  while Erin is shopping craigslist, I will be laying here.  poolside.  at this very real summer  house that i very much own.

I also own a hanging chair almost identical to the one shown, so I’m feeling like recreating this in austin really isn’t much of a stretch.  are you with me?

Look!  I’m not the meany you thought I was.  I’ve laid down a second towel for erin to come join me once she has found everything on my list.  I’m pretty much the image of altruism.

Interiors schminteriors. I’m hallucinating through yet another sun bleached Texas summer, so what I’m really covetous of is fabulously verdant landscaping — the lush likes of which could never survive Austin’s intemperate clime. Around here, brown lawns and crispy shrubs grace yards of waterwise folks far and wide. The sign at the corner mechanic states that it’s so hot, trees are begging the dogs. And you know it’s dry when you’re desperate to get pissed on, but I bet my slowly dying hedges would recycle those precious bodily fluids faster than Kyle Maclachlan in Dune.

This is what I want right now.

It’s even cloudy there.

Heaven.

[Pedro Useche, Yatzer]

1!  Let me start with an update:  I bought a Persian rug!  I’m very excited and it should be arriving any day now.  I have a few other new items slowly making their way in and I’m looking forward to giving you a living room update very soon

2! Instead of looking at my crib, I’m going to take you on a pictures-only – zing! – tour of a house that will always and forever be better than mine, no matter how many Persian rugs I buy.

Ok, so not totally word-free.  I do want to say that this room has spoken directly to my heart.  The message:  you and me were made for each other.  The hanging chair and the blue rug with the blue stones are working for me in every way.  Also, I think Erin wants the couch in the back corner.

You know you want it.

Ok, so the kids room is a little too country-sweet for me.  But the rest has stolen my soul.  Next time I redo my house I’m going to do it like this one.  Brick by brick.

An old saying goes something like this: if you don’t like the weather in Texas, just wait a minute — it’ll change. Well, that pithy little maxim falls apart in summertime, when from May til October you can count on the forecast to read blazing hot with a chance that it will rain fire and brimstone. As evidence may I present the latest weather report?

Fuck!

Sorry to whip out the F-bomb, but I think we can agree it was deserved — unless you enjoy singeing the film on your eyeballs as you walk across concrete, or maybe catching the faint whiff of cooking kidneys if you happen to get caught outside of air conditioning for more than a minute or two, that is.

Aside from sprouting fins and gills and making a new home under the sea, the only remedy for such intolerable cruelty is this:

Doesn’t this sleek white mid mod pad designed by architect Victor Gruen and decorated by Chahan Minassian look positively icy?

And ok, the pool doesn’t hurt anything.

Later, homies! If we don’t run errands before noon, someone will have to scrape us off the ground of a parking lot.

[Chahan Minassian, Roger Davies Photography, Modernica]

Sorry about that title.  I just wasted 5 mintues of my life googling clever sayings and song titles with the word wood in them.  My bucket list is really coming along nicely.  Not.  I do not have a bucket list and if I did I would come up with a better name for it.  Even if it meant I had to spend TEN minutes googling clever sayings and song titles.  What does all this have to do with today’s post?  Nothing, except those are all words that you are reading in today’s post.  capiche?

Anyway, today I’m showing you (an even number of rooms crazy erin) with wood in them.  why?  because my house is finally looking like it may be close to done and there’s not really much wood anywhere so of course all I want now is wood and I want to redo my house.  Let’s do this:

And boom goes the dynamite.  I know I’m giving away Christmas right out of the gate with this one but who can resist.  It’s magically unstoppable.  I want to eat fancy reconfigurations of comfort food at this table until my head explodes.  Note, it will explode from laughter because I will probably be hanging out with some really funny people.

After my hilarity laugh riot meal of ecstasy I will climb these stairs to burn off all those calories.  ha ha no i won’t.  I will turn and look at these stairs and think about what a genius i was for building them.*

*i did not build these stairs.  Please do not write and ask me how i did it.**

**some people actually write and ask us dumb shit like this.  can you believe it?

This perfect potty belongs to furniture designer J.B. Blunk.  He, unlike me with the stairs, carved that sink out of redwood.  Write him and ask your goofy questions, weirdos.

This is old and I don’t know what it is but i do know that it is awesome.  I do have an obsessive blog partner who can probably tell you who’s house this is, when it was built and how long, down to the minute, they took to furnish it.  You can write her too, she loves mail.

picture 1, picture 2, picture 3, picture 4 is unknown source

P.S. I would like to note that 99% of you who write us are awesome and amazing, please don’t take offense to this post.  But there is the 1% out there who will email us with questions like “how did you make that couch” without 1.  letting me know which couch they are talking about and 2. realizing that I am not, in fact, a couch maker.   99%, keep it coming. Love and kisses

We’ve pretty much given up on our new house dream — for this season at least. The Austin market is overheated and overpriced (we hope), and we’d rather wait for things to cool down. Like, maybe on Christmas Day. Despite swearing off any more home tours, I found myself drawn to a particular house like bubbas to the rapture, largely because I spent two or three months trying to get into the same stupid house last year before it was finally yanked off market. What kind of realtor won’t allow people to come look at their awesome and amazing house for sale?

The kind that has something to hide.

When you look at the pictures, you guys are going to flip, because this place looks like the second coming of Christ. Let me try to explain why it’s really just this hellish house 2.0…

Entry = incredible. This house was built in the 70s by a “designer.” Hmmmm, not an architect. Ok. Who cares? The neighborhood is a stunner, and even though buying this place would financially destroy us, I am already making plans to sell a kidney.

Upon entry we are informed by the listing agent that the owner installed all the custom *cough* lighting. It looks like Beetlejuice barfed all over the place, but whatevs. It’s just light fixtures. And hideous tiles. And ugly doors… but it’s all cosmetic, right?

The owners also built this delightful concrete island, with custom beetlejuice uplighting. I want to take a sledgehammer to the entire kitchen — which is teeny tiny, by the way. Count the cabinets… sike! Many are just for show.

Pop quiz: where is the master bedroom? Answer: in a labyrinthine hidden door BEHIND THE FIREPLACE. wtf???

The house is surrounded by incredible decks that overlook the yard — only problem is that I’m afraid my foot might go through a board (did I mention I might have to sell Ben’s kidney to buy this house, too? no money for repairs). Also there is a weird stairway that goes to the bottom deck, and the opening is only four feet tall. Ike has no problem fitting through the Willy Wonka door, but even shorty me is screwed. We are informed that the “designer” meant to do that because it’s “funny.” Why was this place not built by an architect???

Speaking of the yard, it’s actually pretty great, except for the rickety death fort and the weird drainage ditch that runs across its full length. Oh, and it backs up to a main road.

But we haven’t yet discussed the main, uh, focal point of the home. Hmmm… what’s that I spy through those windows?

Oh, it’s just a 2.5 story waterfall running through the center of the house. Seriously, ya’ll, this thing is SO MUCH BIGGER than it appears in the photo. Like almost 30 feet tall. Check the chairs for scale. Notice the stairway through the window. And then look at the green water and imagine this thing backing up in the middle of your house… Do you think this is cool? I admit it’s pretty spectacular — like it’s a SPECTACLE. But it is also very very weird. And BIG.

Still, I think I might get over living in fear of a septic meltdown if this place were cheap. Or in any way functional. Instead, it was built by a “designer” who valued a giant waterfall over kitchen space, who hid the master bedroom behind the fireplace, and who built rooms you could only see from the outside. The whole house is like a labyrinth of doors and useless rooms. It’s bizarre.

If the price drops 100k, then I think we should buy it, right? And judging by the alternating looks of shame and terror flashing across the listing agent’s face, it just might.

Sometimes when we post extraordinarily designed homes (like this one) I play make-believe-fantasy-party that I’m in the market for a new home and, oh, what is this?  suddenly this interesting home shows up in my MLS listing and (gasp!) it’s in my price range.  I imagine whether or not I would chose to throw down my cash to live somewhere so extreme (hint: the answer is always yes).  The home in today’s post is no exception. In fact, it’s so damn amazing it’s the very first house ever in the history of Design Crisis to be shown completely unfurnished.  Just full frontal architecture for you to drool over.  Who have I become?

Seriously, could you imagine opening up your MLS search to see this puppy?  Do you think you would hyperventilate or just have a heart attack?  This Toranto home was custom built (with no budget, time line or design restrictions) for a cool 24 million, so don’t expect to tour it with your realtor anytime soon.

How would you dudes feel if I told you this 18,000 square foot home was owned by a math professor?  Ok, a math professor who also wrote a slue of successful calculus books, but a matt teacher non-the-less.  Pretty bitchin, right?

Ok math students, quick problem for you:  if train A leaves the station at 1:00 pm traveling 100 mph and train B leaves the station at 4:30 am traveling 60  miles per hour, how quickly would Karly move the F into this house?

Yes to the yes.  I love that the treated wood gives the house a mid-century feel.  Not that I’m all mid century crazy these days (I’m not) it’s just nice to see a modern home that still feels warm and livable.

And the gold on these stairs drives it home

More stairs, more curves, more wood and concrete.  Ok, yes, fine, I’ll take it.

PS. this joint was designed by Shim Sutcliffe

I’m back from the brink of certain death and I’ve got nothing but good times planned for this week — cool art, colorful homes, and for today this fine fine masterpiece:

Resembling a gilded ’77 El Camino that ran out of gas en route to casinos and ladies, Acido Dorado holds golden court in the middle of the Joshua Tree desert.

If the Palace of Versailles had a grill and knew how to ghost ride the whip, it would be kissing cousin to this street sweet pad.

And in fact a golden welded grille marks the mouth of this slightly lascivious lair, whose given name translates to Acid Gold.

Speaking of, who knows how many drugs Robert Stone — architect at large — imbibed during this vision quest.

He seems like the kind of guy who reads a lot of Carlos Castaneda and runs with Mescalito, because he obviously has some very strong feelings for this house.

If I ever get stranded in the desert, this is the mirage I’ll be searching for. There’s gold in them there hills (and probably lots of liquor, too).

But since Plan A is to avoid getting stranded in the desert at all costs, I am prepared to move on to Plan B, which is: calculate how many cans of spraypaint it will take to turn my bedroom into this scintillating slice of heaven.

I already have a white duvet — how hard could the rest be?

[Interior Design, Pretty Vacant Properties]

I’m thinking we need to narrow the focus here at Design Crisis and declare ourselves the world’s leading authority on crazy ass tree houses.  With Erin’s number one best post of all time about the probably haunted tree house here, my 24 hour around the clock coverage of the tree hotel here and this beast I’m about to throw at you today I’m ready to consider us 100% tree house experts:  full on qualified to appear as an expert witness in court in case any crizime ever takes place in a tree house.

Let’s do this.

I am ready to tell you homies about this here TEN STORY tree house somewhere in Tennessee  built by Horace Burgess, a landscape architect, after a fist-pump sealed agreement between him and God.

Constructed over 14 years, The Minister’s tree house (no website) is built around an 80 foot tall white oak tree with a diameter of 12 feet, 6 other trees act as pillars supporting the structure.   The house itself is built with only salvaged materials, which, apparently was God’s end of the deal:  Horace was to build the tree house while the big man would ensure that he never ran out of supplies.

The house’s square footage has never been measured (although the number of nails used has: 258,000) but it’s estimated to be between 8,000 – 10,000  square feet.  Among it’s gazillion rooms are a church and a basketball court.  Divine requirement?  Possibly

The entire house cost $12,00o to build (it’s unclear which materials were purchased)

I only found one interior shot of the tree house and it belongs to some dude on flickr who’s disabled sharing of his photos, so if you want to see it you have to click here.  Even though I’m annoyed by this guy for not letting me post his photo (with credit!!!) I still think it’s worth you cruising over to check it out.  Here

UPDATE! You don’t have to go look at stupid lame-os share-blocked photos, instead you can read a hilarious post with tons of interior pictures over at modern sauce’s blog.  It’s a 2 parter:  here and here

So far the only real difference  I can see between the Mister’s House and the one Erin toured last year is that I’m pretty sure she would buy this one.  Especially for $12,000.

all other photos via

Did you see Vidal Sassoon and his wife Ronnie featured in the latest issue of Architectural Digest?

Is it just me, or does this look like some sort of a freaky suicide pact? Perhaps the onslaught of criticism over their renovation of a classic Richard Neutra home has led them on a downward spiral deep into depression. Goodness knows they both look grim enough.

And I can see why. This house is hideous. Totally devalued. With great persistence, I might be persuaded to take it off their hands.

I will allow them to keep the dogs, though.