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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]

Happy Friday, dudes.

I’ll be spending the weekend making sow’s ears into silk purses (I hope).

Anyone have any fancy plans I can enjoy vicariously?

[pinterest]

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]

And now dear friends, I bring you the last post of the year. Don’t be sad — we’ll be back after all the booze has burned off, but I need a break (ok, I need a chance to get some projects done). Besides, you really won’t care what I have to write after you see this incredible house tour, brought to you by Graham & Co bloggers (and generally cool people) Jeff Madalena, owner of fashion label/boutique Oak, and Jason Gnewikow, creative director at NY Design Studio Athletics. Jeff happened to leave a comment on my terrifying fireplace post, suggesting I take a page from his book and go clean and minimal a la his house. I think I cried a little after I followed the flickr link to his gallery, both because I was a smidge insanely jealous, but also because my faith in humanity has been restored. It is possible to finish things! Your house can look amazing!

MIRACLES CAN HAPPEN!

Just check out that before and after! My fireplace is weeping tears of joy at the possibilities.

So without further ado, I bring you a Chriswanzmukkuh gift for the ages. From tiling to flooring, a ton of this was DIY. You (and more importantly I) can make things pretty, too. Let’s do this!

Location: The Catskills, NY

Size: 2100 sq ft.

J&J: We found the home more or less by accident in early 2008 while visiting friends for a weekend in the Catskills. It had not been inhabited for quite some time and had been on the market for about 18 months. The house itself was not much to look at and was in need of a full gut renovation, but what really drew us to it was the sweeping views of the mountains. The renovation was done in three stages. We started by reconfiguring what was a kitchen, bathroom and sunporch into two bedrooms and a new bathroom. The second stage was incorporating the kitchen into the great-room to create an open concept kitchen/dining/living room. In the great room we raised the ceiling and clad them in pickled-pine wood planks. We also boxed in the original brick fireplace and had it refaced with concrete. The third stage was converting the old garage into a master bedroom with full a bath. We brought in reclaimed, unfinished barnwood floors and replaced the garage door with a floor to ceiling picture window and additional door to the patio outside.

The great room is definitely where we spend the most time. Lighting is a cluster of classic Nelson pendants, the sofa is the Long Life by Ihreborn from Scandinavian Grace. The big picture window in the background we designed to echo the shape of the adjacent hallway.

The refaced concrete fireplace.

This is our Philodendron who is easy like Sunday morning. He doesn’t need a whole lot of attention, just a front row seat at the window and a bit of water here and there. In the background is an odd chair we found at a garage sale that is sort of a mid century style love seat. We stripped it, pickled it and reupholstered the cushions in a geometric black and white Anni Albers print.

This old chair has been dragged from apartment to apartment and here’s the truth kids, she’s from Macy’s….yep,we said it..Macy’s. We’re not hating, she’s cute.

The kitchen is positioned at one end of the great room. We do a lot of entertaining in the Summer so this makes it easy for everyone to be in the same place and also provides easy access to the outdoors where we eat a lot. We used simple Ikea cabinets.

Between the two of us and adobe illustrator, we were able to visualize most everything for our contractors. We didn’t actually do anything too crazy — really just moving walls here and there, so we spent a good bit of time figuring out what would work for us and then did very detailed (to scale) aerial drawings of the floor plans.

The table here is a 10 foot long farm table. We found the top at a barn sale and constructed the base out of reclaimed 4×4′s. A host of bits and bobs live in frequent rotation at the end of the table.

This was our main bedroom before completing work on the downstairs master. The bedrooms are all pretty modest in size. We embrace the low to high — simple white bed linens and pillows from Ikea, throw pillows are Belgian linen Libeco from High Falls Mercantile, the wall hanging is actually a hammock we bought in Tulum, Mexico, and the print next to the bed is a Cy Twombly we bought in Paris.

The closet door in the second bedroom actually took us forever to find since we had to source the door after we had the framing done; we finally found it at a barn sale in Stone Ridge, NY. Light fixture is an industrial table lamp we found at the Brooklyn Flea Market. Bed linens and pillows again with the Ikea, the throws are the same Libeco Belgian linen from HFC. The print is a Joseph Albers from the 1972 Munich Olympics.

This is the hall that connects the upstairs bedrooms and bath to the great room. We installed and finished a lot of the flooring and then stained the upstairs floors black using india ink for a true black. It’s actually pretty simple — india ink is super black, relatively cheap and surprisingly only needs to go on very thin. The only wrinkle we ran into was that we first tried to finish it with pure tung oil which didn’t really work so we ended up using waterlox to finish it because we wanted a really matte finish. That stuff was kind of nasty odor wise. I think we’re going to use osmocoat next time, which is supposed to be pretty odorless.  Windows in the hall and one wall of the living room were rehabbed factory windows.

The upstairs bathroom is a bit tricky to photograph. On the opposite side of the vanity wall is a open shower. The pillar wall shares all the plumbing for both the sink and shower. Sink basin is Duravit, fixture is an industrial wall mount from Chicago Faucets and the cabinet is from Robern.

We had to build up these downstairs floors as they had previously been a garage. We used reclaimed barnwood for the floors throughout. We did a lot of heavy black and white down here. The doors are some old store doors we found somewhere and painted black, of course. The photos in the background are by NYC artist Ellen Frances and were made for an Oak Gallery event.

The master bathroom houses a black bottomed clawfoot tub. A lot of the fixtures in this room were sourced from really random places. The tub fill is a brass spigot originally used for a laundry basin found on ebay. Subway tile on the walls and Carrara mosaic tile for the floors.

The master we converted from the garage is a pretty straight-forward minimal bedroom. We replaced what was originally a garage door with a floor to ceiling picture window. The throw is a charcoal grey, wool army blanket. Linens are Ikea.

This was our first renovation so the biggest challenge was bringing what we saw in our heads into reality, and communicating with contractors to bring that vision to life. The details are always the tricky things — seeing how a window finishes against a wall or where moldings come together are the things you never really think about until you have to make a decision. The other big challenge is also the fun part — sourcing and buying all the fixtures and furnishings. The style of the house is a mix of Scandinavian modern with touches of vintage industrial pieces, like steel factory windows sourced from a local architectural salvage yard. We are fortunate to have a handful of really talented NYC ex-pats that have established great interiors shops here in the Catskills, like Scandinavian Grace and High Falls Mercantile, so that makes shopping locally a bit easier. Renovating the house was a labor of love and and a real learning experience. Now that we’re just about to embark on a new project in Brooklyn we’re glad to have somewhere escape to on the weekends.

Thanks so much to Jeff and Jason for allowing us to scrutinize their beautiful home via the wonder of the internet! Rest assured I will be stalking this post during the holidays to read all your comments. I hope you enjoyed this tour as much as I did.

Happy Everything, homies! See you in 2012!

I’m a terrible gift shopper, so thank the dear sweet baby Jesus for Miss Andrea Roe — gift buyer extraordinaire. Karly and I have both been recipients of her fabulous picks, so we thought we’d spread her magic touch to you, too. Check out her super selections and start stimulating the economy already!

There are generally two contrasting personality types,  the high-strung Type A and the easy-going Type B.  I prefer labels that aren’t so clinical, such as Realists and Dreamers. In an ode to Modern Family, one of my current favorite shows featuring the truly Type A Pritchetts, we have gifts in both ends of the personality spectrum. Hooray!

Alright, Dreamers….Behold, a metallic cowhide rug from Calypso St. Barth.  Eat your heart out, Kelly Wearstler.

Of course, Dreamers are always on a perpetual search for inspiration, and what better source of inspiration than the magic of music? Right on, man. Your ear drums will thank you a million times over for spoiling them with these sweet art-deco era headphones.

If you are a more tactile spirit and require visual inspiration, let your hands peruse the pages of THE Master Dreamer and fashion designer extraordinaire, the late Alexander McQueen’s book. Each page is guaranteed to suck you in while marveling at his craftsmanship and while providing a glimpse into his fantastical universe.

For those of you who are Dreamers-on-the-Run who have a full-time job and a kid or two or three or a million cats and just need a daily reminder to slow down while cooking dinner, feeding the dog, doing loads of laundry, remembering to brush your hair, chasing dust bunnies across the house while trying to find 30 minutes to watch Modern Family, just STOP. And. Take ten seconds. To LOOK…at these gorgeous gemstone magnets on your finger-print covered fridge. Ahhhhh, all better now.

Don’t worry, Dreamers-Who-Work-in-an-Office, I got your poor souls covered, too. All you need to do is get yourselves one of these sweet dodecahedron terrariums, or, two or three, for your office or tiny cubicle and daydream away. Fact: I’m pretty sure this is the first thing in my entire life I have ever written using the word dodecahedron.

Alright you active sporty Dreamers, this one’s for you. I’m pretty sure it’s safe to say this horse swimsuit is the new ‘Three Wolves Howling at the Moon’ t-shirt. Not only is it sexier by a million, it can get wet. Rawwwr!

Finally, for those Dreamers who are perhaps not as bold and are a little more reserved: You love to entertain and host sophisticated cocktail parties and want whomever comes to your chic house to admire this statement piece hanging above your couch that you just purchased on 1stDibs, iconic Barry Feinstein’s photograph of legendary Dreamer Bob Dylan, then turn around and look at you and say, “Dreamer, you are all-right!”

Next up, we have the Prichetts — the Type A folk, the structured planners and organizers.  People who like to Keep.It.Real.

Raise your hand if you enjoy being so organized you purchased a 2012 calendar three months ago. If so, I bet you didn’t score one of THESE babies. Karly, with a name like Dreamcats, this calendar has your name all over it.

For all of you OCD homies, you will no longer have to measure your carrot sticks 20 times in a row to make sure they are all the exact same length. This genius cutting board will save you hours of measuring. You will have THE most precise charcuterie plate out of all of your friends. Or the entire population of Austin.

For those of you Prichetts who are more nostalgic and prefer to hold on to the simpler way of doing things, you will love this chrome desk pencil sharpener, a throw-back to the scholastic era of open-front public school desks and greasy square hamburger cafeteria lunches.

Just because you are practical does not mean you don’t like to have a bit of fun. You most certainly may plan a ’crazy’ Friday night out two weeks ahead of time on a cool Fall night. You never leave home without your colorful Ikat throw in case a freakishly cold breeze blows in. The bold colors and eye-catching pattern lets others know how zany and/or funky you truly are.

And of course, you will immediately rush home at a respectable hour of 10:00pm from your wild escapade of an evening to thank your friends for a wonderfully restrained yet tantalizing evening on this sleek vintage typewriter. The smell of white-out tape and clickity clacking of the key stokes is what really gets your endorphins going, after all.

Monday, I want to murder you. The time change sucks nuts when you have a kid, our dishwasher is still broken, and I can’t for the life of me find the nail clippers. Seriously, how long does it take after moving to get all the odds and ends properly squared away? Last night I had to dig through boxes in the garage just to find my house shoes. I love me some isotoners — what about it? And to top it off, I am getting some weird blog crap when I log in while using Firefox. Has anyone out there noticed any funny business whilst cruising our blog?

Moving on, I’d like to say thanks for all your input about the fireplace. Right now I’m contemplating ripping half of it down (well not me personally, me = proxy = Matt), adding a proper mantle, and painting it white. Or maybe doing this here plaster job that Morgan left in the comments. I’m a little concerned that our floors are too rustic to do anything vaguely rustic with the brick… not that they are crazy rustic they just have a very Euro bare board look, knots and all.

Speaking of, I have found myself staring at the floors and wondering if I should have done this pickled finish instead:

No, right? I would hate it in five years, right????? Please say yes.

I have turned into a babbling idiot because I have too many decisions to make, mainly about the overall direction of this place. I think it boils down to this:

vs this:

Form driven modernist Stilnovo, or a more classically elegant deco look?

I think I have a preference, but I’d love to know what you think.

Let’s talk shelter mags for a minute here:  1. Architectural Digest used to be total crapola.  Like, really bad.  Then 2.  Margaret Russel left her post as Editor in Chief at Elle Decor for the same position at AD last fall and ever since 3.  Architectural Digest has been pretty awesome.  Simultaniously 4.  Elle Decor: not so good (as evidenced by this cover, hello zombi cox).  However, and this is what I really want to talk about today 5.  The September issue of Elle Decore Brought. It.  It killed.  Not only was it better than AD, it was easily one of the best issues of ED I’ve ever ever seen.

My very favorite article featured the San Antonio home of designer Gwynn Griffith and, wouldn’t you know it, my scanner doesn’t work and there are NO pictures of this home online save one crappy one:

No justice is done here and I encourage you to pick up the rag and check it out.  Meanwhile, I’ll show you pictures of another stunning home from the September Issue which probably has Erin panting and sweating with all it’s acid-waspy wonder:

Behold, the San Francisco home of Alexis and Trevor Traina. Exaggerated proportions plus 80′s symmetry plus ironic, expensive art = trippy good times.

Yes to all of this.  Even those upholstered dining chairs aren’t getting me down, which is unusual

Could you imagine growing up here?  We need to make this happen for Eero

There are, like, 12 elements here that Erin currently has in her home.  I think she might cry when she sees this

Another day another giant ball sculputure right in the middle of a million dollar gallery space.  yawn.

Ficus Figs on steroids: check.

Yes to that tarot card photo.  If I were Erin I could probably tell you who took it.  But I’m not.  I’m Karly, enjoying our all-time record breaking 70th day of triple digit, rain-free heat, not to be confused with Erin who is currently laying on the beaches of Hawaii.  Small difference, easy mix-up.

Also in this issue:  The San Francisco loft of designer Steven Volpe, which is pretty dang awesome.  Just go pick the dumb magazine up already.

A-hoy-hoy maties!  Sorry for the mega silence, between all the summer travels, interweb zombie attacks and Persian rug buying I’ve had zero zilch time to send you design love letters.  Please accept my sincerest apologies and give Erin a WhatWhat for, as always, keeping it ‘tril.

So, you cats want to know the down and dirty details of what I’ve been up to?  Well, apparently I’ve started saying cats, which is concerning, but also I’ve been slowly sprucing up my living room, which is not concerning but instead very very exciting.  Let’s have a look see

So, what’s new here?  1!!!!  I replaced my junky 8 x 10 black leather rug with this mega 11 x 14 persian beauty.  Thank you ebay for the deals, it was totally worth a week of sleepless nights and mouse-hand-cramps.

A-hah!  That is not all.  Some of you may notice and mourn the loss of my gold panther table.  I’m sorry.  I was done with it.  The fact that it was only mildly baby unsafe was enough to justify it’s banishment in exchange for this Milo Baughman / Thayer Coggin sparkly white parsons number.  Tada.  Love.

Also, the table to the left of the couch is a blue laminate piece i picked up for a whopping $15 at Salvation Army.  It kills.  The lamp on the opposite side of the couch is a gagillion pound solid lucite piece that I nearly stole from my new secret favorite store.  Sorry, I don’t kiss and tell.

What’s in the works?  Art overhaul.  Tupac, I love you.  I love your mommy Hope who painted you, but you have been over 2 consecutive fireplaces and a television totaling 7 years of front-and-center display.  I’m going to put you away for just a little while and replace you with great aunt Tootsie’s antique, geometric wooden mirror.

Dining room art?  I love you too, but I’m afraid you no longer fit in the mix.  I’m seeing something simple and graphic, perhaps several framed eye charts?  Readers, I’m open to suggestion here.

PS sorry for the crappy photo, i’m not erin.  It’s a wonder i can even hold my camera still at all.

Ok, so these are actually not staying in my house despite the fact that they are stunning beyond words.  Good ole erin sleuthed them on the CL and we decided to split them among ourselves.  Despite our well-laid plans we have decided that the pair simply can’t be parted and they are currently living in living room limbo until we hammer out plan B.  Hint:  Plan B may or may not be on our website soon and could possibly mean that these 6’4″ beauties could land in your living room.

Side note, pretty please ignore the bear in this shot, I leave Eero’s toys on the bottom shelf for him to fondle and forget to take them off before my high-profile photo shoots.  Good mommy loves baby more than decor.  Who knew that would ever happen?

Speaking of babies!!!!

I thought I would show you a couple of shots from the past few weeks since I haven’t been around to sing your praises.  (did I mention that you are awesome?!) Here’s one of eero at Grandmommy’s house.  Why is he so confused?  I don’t know, swimming seems pretty clear to me.  Maybe he’s wondering how he got so cute?

After the family trip to g-ma’s I had to venture to vegas for work.  Should you ever be so unfortunate to find yourself stuck on the strip for more than 1 day, do yourself a favor and zipline over freemont street.  You can thank me later.

PS, to anyone who lives in Vegas, I have no doubt that life outside LV Blvd is lovely.  Life inside it on the other hand…

So there you have it, living room make overs, giant lamp take overs, grandmommy sleep overs and zipline flyovers.

WTF was that ending?

Did you ever wet a piece of paper and hold a marker to the surface, watching the ink slowly spread into its outermost fibers? That’s pretty much the closest I ever got to water color painting. I still look at water color images in much the same way — checking out the edges, tracing the outline of the pigments’ run for the border. So today is my homage to the glorious transparency of water. And color. Hopefully I can make it through this post before jumping the backyard fence and rushing the neighbor’s pool.

Abracadabra, homies. How do you like that magic?

Have a good one!

[Emily Henderson, Black Crow Studios via Head Over Heels, Met Home, Helen Frankenthaler in her studio, Eye Spy, Ike's room]

I confess to more than a little snobbery when I was in art school. I wasn’t a snob about status or money, because those things seemed far too pedestrian to me. I was a snob about work. I was immensely impressed by craft and labor. This is not to say that I didn’t appreciate conceptualism, because I absolutely did. I just expected to see it — to have some tangible proof of the time and suffering inherent in the birth of an idea.

I was a naive idiot, and is there anything worse than a stupid snob?

I scoffed at Cy Twombly’s work (all those dots and scribbles — I could make that in my sleep!). But if I am honest with myself, I didn’t like his work because I didn’t understand it. I couldn’t discern any method to his art or craft whatsoever.

It’s been eight years since I finished school, and the art world was different back then. Art was about something — your gender, your home, your race, your pet chickens. What didn’t really matter, but there damn well better be a metaphorical SOMETHING in there somewhere.

And so, as a young photographer I was quite sure Twombly’s work was outdated, superficial, and self absorbed.

After all, photography in the late twentieth century threatened old school gestural painters like Twombly much in the same way photography threatened painting back in the early nineteenth century, leading Paul Delaroche to utter most famously, “Painting is dead.”

And after all, Cy Twombly lived in relative obscurity for decades — a recluse doing his own thing off the coast of Italy. An irrelevant person of little interest. At least that’s what I thought.

So it’s really rather funny that Twombly is undeniably popular now; it’s funny that it has become such a fad to scribble all over a canvas and call it Art with a capital A.

But the difference between Twombly and all the trendsters, the thing that I did not understand about his work when I was in school, the thing that perhaps most people were too jaded and eager to dismiss about him when he first started painting amidst all the splashy ab ex guys and minimalists years and years ago, is intent. Or INTENT, rather. Yes, with capital letters. Purpose is the key.

And to make that appear effortless is the mark of a virtuoso.

If you doubt that, read his own words regarding his work: “It does not illustrate. It is the sensation of its own realization.”

Spoken like a man well versed in the wisdom of the classics. I hope it’s not too late for me to learn to follow suit.

Rest in peace Cy Twombly.

[NY Times Arts Beat, Photos of Cy Twombly's studio by Francois Halard]

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.

Most of the time I am perfectly happy with my quiet, perfectly neutral decor. It’s harmonious! It’s blendy! It’s versatile! At least that’s what I tell myself. It’s also kind of beige. And kind of boring. I kind of have the urge to do it up righteous in a riot of color. Like Karly, I might just want to color it rad.

I’m still into the crazy acid wasp idea — psychedelic neotrad will definitely amuse me for a while — but occasionally I yearn for some straight up crazy, old school Design Crisis style.

Kind of like this.

This feathered friend made its way around the interwebs a while ago, and recently I stumbled upon the rest of the house designed by Ghislaine Vinas (who is definitely cuckoo for cocoa puffs). Raise you hand if you want to take a tour… Yay! Let’s dewit.

Subtle, no?

The kids’ rooms are sock knockers, even if the vaguely sinister murals by Mark Mulroney may be nightmare inducing.

I think this is as restful as this place gets.

Sheep + green carpet = a trifle heavy handed?

Winning!

I declare the kids’ bathroom to be 100% adorable.

And I’m kind of a sucker for any room featuring a giant Vik Muniz photo.

But WTF is this thing??????????? I may never sleep again.

Well friends, what do we think? Good drugs/bad drugs? Maybe a little of both? Do you wish this type of design would go out like the abominable snowman, or will you always have  a place in your heart for the graphic homes that boldly go where no (wo)man has gone before?

[Interior Design]