I desperately want to tell you about all the exciting! plans! I’ve cooked up thanks to your comments for our kitchen facelift, but I’m just way too sick. We’re on week a million of the bubonic plague and I kind of want to shoot Little Orphan Annie in the head for even suggesting that the sun might come out tomorrow… I really don’t want to get my hopes up. Because most likely we’re in for another month of snot and misery and it’s best to look a bleak future square in its runny face and get on with it.

Honestly the entire situation wouldn’t be so bad if only I had some good tv to watch. I feel like I’ve seen EVERYTHING. Suggestions?

Anyway, sorry for dumping pink eye all over your day. Here are some toe curling good kitchens that have interesting, daring design elements. Hopefully they will be enough to get me off your naughty list.

Next up: wood kitchens. Who’s with me?

[pinterest]

Apparently Austin has moved into a subtropical zone, one where we receive three inches of rain in 30 minutes almost daily. It’s been a relief for our drought ridden region, except I’m starting to wonder if the sun is ever going to return or if we’re doomed to live in a mushroom forest until the end of time. Point is, I’m getting stuff done around here but I can’t take pictures because it’s pitch dark.

For starters, Ike got a new (craigslist) big boy bed that Matt is painting a creamy sooty black:

Just try to stop yourself from loving that cute bed.

Also my bedding came in from Overstock so the master bedroom is looking less crappy every day, if maybe a bit sleazy… I don’t know. That’s my next photography project so look for updates in the next few days if the rain will ever stop. This may be a little OTT, though:

Giant faux fur blanket I know you aren’t for real, but I think I might could love you anyway… maybe.

Meanwhile, swing arm sconces and new pillows are in the works for the front room.

I took the plunge and sprang for a pair of these Kelly Wearstler/Lee Jofa pillows, and now I wish I’d also gotten a pomegranate velvet cover from the same seller:

Should I?

And hey, did you know that if you buy a pair of unshaded swing arm sconces at a thrift store, a cup harp is the proper lamp fitting to connect the sconce to a real (not Ikea or clip) shade?

It looks like this. Now you know.

Also the nursery is slowly inching towards completion. To that end, I sent this chair:

To be upholstered in this fabric:

Which I scored for $4/yd including tax and shipping. Shazam!

And finally I sucked it up and bought more wallpaper for the hallway and powder room. Maybe those rooms will get done before baby comes, maybe not. Last time I papered our hall myself, but this time I’m having someone else do it for a VERY reasonable price. I will give out his info after he’s done… I ain’t got time for poaching.

What does all this add up to? Poverty. I try really really really hard to buy vintage, to use local retailers and shop small business, but I still have the stain of filthy capitalism all over me right now.

When Ben gets the Amex statement he is going to insist on putting the kids to work as child models, or at least as diamond miners.

Can’t say I’m opposed to a little mining (and hopefully smuggling). Child modeling is way creepier.

ps, that was intended to be funny.

Later, dudes. The doctor is about to poke her fingers in my special no no to see when the baby might come out…

I need two more weeks. Legs and fingers crossed!

Friends, I have about 3.2 second to write this post before all hell breaks loose, by which I mean that I will have to read Dogzilla 800 times and constantly assure Ike that we are not hiding a bagful of brand new toys from him (except that we are… he will get them next week on the plane).

Don’t worry — I’m not so unkind as to hide this shiny new toy from you. To continue our theme of Wallpaper Week, please see the following and try not to pee your pants with excitement:

Kelly Wearstler for de Gournay wallpaper.

I have plans to rob a bank during Ike’s nap this afternoon, but shhhh don’t tell anyone.

When I first came across Kelly Wearstler’s latest foray into megahotel decor I didn’t think too much of it, as it just seems to be Kelly’s beach house on steroids. But you can never underestimate the Wearstler’s ability to awe and inspire. There are some wicked fascinating details in here — some really good and some just really weird. Let’s have a look.

With a neutral palette and signature mix of natural materials and bold forms, the Anguilla is 100% Kelly.

Complete with seaweed luxe lighting and a befedoraed concierge.

Sconces mounted on patinated mirrors? Why, yes.

Crystal lamps and burly wooden finishes? Mmm hmm.

Karl Springer boner.

Marble marble on the wall…

Who is the fairest of them all?

I want to get drunk here.

And then retreat to my lounge, away from the riff raff.

That’s my ocean, bitches.

Yes, all of it.

So most of the weirdness comes from this creepy interloper who keeps trying to gank my room.

Ok, and maybe those lamps are a little hangman’s noose, too.

Happy Tuesday!

[Kelly Wearstler, Viceroy Anguilla]

Hey dudes, I’m still here. Sorry I haven’t had much time to hang out in blogland lately, but guess what? Ike is sick. Again. This makes the fourth time in three months and I’m about ready to send him back to the baby factory for repairs and new parts. I kid. Really. Please don’t jump my ass, trolls. Anyway I am busy and tired and covered in snot and all this awesomeness gives me the pissies when I hear that color and FUN!!! are coming back to decor. Thanks a lot, Sara Ruffin Costello — you are obviously too perky to have sick children.

So, how much do I sound like Grouchy Smurf when I say that I hate color and I hate fun? I don’t really, but ok, right now I do. I hate them. In case you couldn’t already tell, sleep deprivation and living in a miasma of snot and toddler germs will do weird things to you. Well, it does weird things to me, anyway.

You know what takes me to my happy place? This.

Gary Hutton

Isabel Lopez Quesada

Joel Mozersky

Ryan Korban via Lonny

Kelly Wearstler

Ahhh. Blood pressure. slowly. falling. Tirade ending. Rage receding. Patience returning. Likey Smurf emerging.

Neutrals sometimes get a bad rap because of that whole 80s band aid beige epidemic, but just look how soothing yet interesting they can be when mixed with a country ton of texture. Fur rugs? Check. Muted patterns? Check. Shiny shiny goodness? Check. Acres of psychedelic mushroom marble? Check.

I need it all. It’s for my health. Do you think Blue Cross covers decor?

Also, special announcemento: The lovely Elizabethi Hablinski McDougall of the aptly named design firm EHM Design will be here on Thursday to wax dramatic about her very own house woes. Plus as a special added bonus, she will gift you with some very pretty pictures of other people’s houses that are not in the least woeful. So be here. Or else.

You kind and generous people wouldn’t want me to get all hatery again… would you?

As you’ve probably guessed, I have a decorating disorder. It goes a little something like this: watch, wait, buy nothing, get jittery from watching and waiting and buying nothing, buy everything, tire of almost everything, sell everything. Repeat ad infinitum. I’ve sold most of the big ticket items from my craigslist jag so inventory is now on the low end, and you all can guess what happens next… Except that I’m kind of enjoying the purge — so much so that I might dig a little deeper and sell more. It’s liberating, and I’m not mad about having a few extra benjamins kicking it in my bank account.

But it’s not like the wily monkey on my back is giving up without a fight. He’s always tempting me with stuff like this:

Brian Park

I really appreciate the all overness of this look, and it does appeal to my need to cover every square inch of space with something — be it paint, wallpaper, patterned floors, furniture, etc. I wouldn’t want the empty parts to feel neglected, because no one like to see a sad room.

Darryl Wilson

On the other hand, a minimal palette and restrained use of furniture and accessories is so refreshing. I think it’s hard to do this look without it feeling unfinished or sterile, but when it works, it’s motherbleeping sublime. Check it:

OWI

Head Over Heels

Shoot Factory

Style Files

Marina Abramovic

Elle Decor

Sure, it doesn’t have to be all white, but it doesn’t hurt. More color and variety in materials = more temptation to head into binging territory. Oh, but the road to excess leads to the palace of wisdom, you say? Quite so. Quite so.

Miles Redd

Lee Radziwill’s home

Anna Sui’s home

Miles Redd

Christoph Theurer

Kelly Wearstler

Rachel Whiting

Now that you’ve had a visual feat, what do you guys think? Binge or purge? Excess or humility? Lady Gaga or Neko Case? Angel food cake or devil’s food with chocolate molten center and sprinkles on top?

Oh, and don’t worry — SOOL is coming up soon. Pinky swear!

It’s been a long time since I’ve written a hangover post. About 9+9 months, to be exact. And I don’t know what’s more embarrassing — that I am a mom with a hangover, or that it only took 3.5 drinks to take me to the bad place. Also it is WEDNESDAY morning. Whatever the case, I had a great time with my guest, but I’m glad Karly decided that we’re not going to work as hard around here because Momma be tired. And cranky. And hungry for some greasy pizza. I really can’t let this blog get between me and pizza, can I?

So I have some pretty pictures for you that I compiled last week when I was still sober and responsible. Just don’t expect a lot of writing. Because that would take thinking. And thinking hurts.

Greg Natale

You know what I love? Flamestitch. Zig zags. Chevrons. Well, I usually love them, but today this picture is making my cerebellum itch. Not the most comfortable feeling.

M Design Interiors

Ruy Texeira

Wall stencil by Mark Chamberlain

Mary MacDonald

NYT via Eye Spy

Osborne and Little Volte wallpaper

Kelly Wearstler

Missoni Liuwa rug

M Design Interiors

Now please entertain me by letting me know how you feel about la flamestitch. Are you in for a little or a lot?

Just type your comment very quietly, please…

Out here in the wilds of Texas, we say Go big or go home.

Well, that is not exactly what we say, since we’re all about being welcoming and friendly and stuff. But I will confirm that everything really is bigger in Texas. Bigger houses, bigger yards, bigger hair, bigger cars, and even though Austin is a bastion of sanity in an otherwise supersized state, it still has its resident megalomaniacs.

Namely me. But instead of parking a Hummer in the six car garage of my palatial estate, I fantasize about big art. Really big art.

Ooooh, it’s so… BIG.

Don’t believe the haters who say size doesn’t matter. It does.

But what if you have a lust for oversized eye candy on a teeny weeny budget?

You fake it.

Can you believe that Nick Olsen, MY decorator boyfriend (I’m talking to you, AB Chao), made this painting all by his very own self? He is one hot DIY dude.

I am suddenly inspired to embark on a similar endeavor, although I’m pretty sure it will not turn out as well. In fact, it will probably look like my cat threw up on a canvas. On the other hand, my cat is very talented at many things, like sleeping, shedding, and clawing up furniture, so perhaps I should just back off and let her have a turn at it. It couldn’t hurt, right?

Happy Friday, everyone! I hope you all have a supersized weekend!

1. Kelly Wearstler

2. Steven Volpe

3. Nick Olsen

After months of resisting the urge to buy another single solitary stick of furniture for this overstuffed house, I finally gave in to temptation. Craigslist has been wining and dining me with brass this and lucite that, but I stayed strong. Until something suddenly came up.

And now I have a seven foot long black leather grub worm in my kitchen/dining area.

I hope you will forgive the janky photos as I didn’t have a lot of time to play Richard Avedon this morning, but I think you can still make out the fact that I have a GIANT BLACK LEATHER THING IN MY DINING ROOM.

Actually, this “thing” is a Tobia Scarpa for Cassina chaise and matching ottoman (with labels!) that I scored for $75 including delivery. BLAMMO! It’s a pretty sweet deal considering that it should go for a minimum of 10x that price. If you could find one.

It do be having some issues, though. Like a missing button, and some scuffs and a few deep gouges. I think I’m going to order some leather dye and polish this bad boy up, but I don’t know what to do about the button. I’m totally open to advice on leather care.

But some day I’d really like to reupholster this behemoth because black leather is not the bizness — sorry, black leather lovers. Karly says it will be a nightmare, but how awesome would this be in a super slubby oatmeal linen?

Oh, you know… kinda like the ones Kelly Wearstler has in her fancy beach mansion. The mansion that she’s selling for 21.9 MILLION. Maybe she wants to buy my chair, too?

But I digress. It can’t be that hard to drape some fabric over the frame, wave your hands over the surface, and hey presto! this baby into life, right? Can I get an Amen?

But my biggest problem is that I bought a giant thing and I AINT GOT NOWHERES TO PUT IT, which is why it’s occupying its own zip code in my dining area. Shhhhhh, do not tell the Hunny about this little epiphany I just had, since he was totally against this really stupid purchase in the first place, and I do not feel like putting up with his I told you so shenanigans. But in my defense, this picture was dancing like a sugarplum in my head when I decided I just had to had to had to have it:

Thank you, Karl Anderson, for taking such a gorgeous stunning beautiful picture and making me buy this dumb thing I don’t need. You bastard.

Ok, I bet you thought this post was going to end right here, but you were so very wrong. It gets worse.

You see, along with the chaise I also bought this Pace Collection coffee table for another whopping $75. BLAMMO! Score! Plus the dude delivered it to my house along with the chaise, which is a big fat freaking deal, since it weighs 200 lbs. At least. Seriously, I do not want this thing to live in my cramped, overstuffed office, but now that it’s in there, it’s going to take an act of congress to move it.

(Sidenote: check out the teak desk (which used to be our dining table) raised up on blocks in the reflection of the chrome. This was the Hunny’s brilliant solution to a too low table that would not allow him to roll his chair underneath it. We are keeping it klassy at our house.)

So now I have a giant black thing in a place where no seat should be, plus a coffee table that I can’t move because it weighs more than me, Ben and Ike, stacked up like a pyramid of clowns on a bicycle. I took a picture of my finger next to the glass and chrome so you can see how thick it is. It’s probably going to drop through our floor any second.

So I’m thinking I could put the Scarpa chaise and ottoman against the wall where that futon (covered with a tapestry) is right now, and the futon will go live with someone else — which is no great loss since futons are hideous, worthless pieces of furniture, anyway. But before I can put the chaise there, I have to move the coffee table. UGH. I suppose the table can live at the end of my giant bed, which I promise to photograph someday after I clean my room, but that probably won’t happen anytime soon, so don’t hold your collective breath. You can’t have everything, you know.

I personally am taking a very deep breath right now, and I’m going to put on my magic brain cap and figure out how to solve this dilemma. I’m afraid the solution involves buying a bigger house, and that makes me all anxious in my innards, and now I feel an overwhelming sense of analysis paralysis.

I think I might just take a quick look at Craigslist instead.

Maybe it’s because my first decorating debacle was painting our living room Blue Tequila, but blue is not my favorite color. I know I’m in the minority, and I’m sure I’ll have many opportunities to revisit that statement since turquoise is Pantone’s color for the year, but for now I’m sticking to my story. Blue is sentimental. Flat. Candace Olsen. It just leaves me cold. There are exceptions to my personal ban on blue, though: Kelly Wearstler’s Avalon Hotel, Raina’s Newburyport Blue bedroom, and anything International Yves Klein Blue.

Brown Davis

Those of you who have been reading this blog forever know I am OBSESSED with Yves Klein and his badass blue. Everyone else can read these posts I wrote 800 million years ago here and here and here. It’s because IYKB is otherwordly. Klein Blue’s super special combination of pigments vibrate with an intensity that most skimpy, wimpy blues lack. Would I paint my entire home IYKB? Well, no. I want to visit outer space, not live there.

Christoph Theurer

A little touch of IYKB here and there would make me an intergalactic tourist, and that suits me just fine. I especially love Yves Klein’s modern reinterpretation of classical sculptures, which are perennial favorites of well heeled collectors.

OWI

Look expensive? That would be because they are HELLACIOUSLY expensive. Guess what’s also expensive?

Architectural Digest

A lucite coffee table chock full of Yves Klein Blue pixie dust. Oh, and this fancy pad belongs to Kevin Roberts, the CEO of Saatchi and Saatchi, so YES. The globe is also an Yves Klein piece, because homedude is crazyballs rich, that’s why.

Cote Maison via Lampshade

Chicago Home Mag

1st Dibs has one for $24,000. Come on, you know you want it…

Of course nothing tops the rarity of Klein’s Anthropometres paintings, since they represent the imprint of an experience and are not reproducible. In other words, Klein greased up some sexy babes with IYKB paint and drug them around a piece of paper. I smell an art project coming on…

Walso Fernandez

Aaron Hom

An Yves Klein poster is really more in my price point.

Living Etc

Perhaps the best thing about IYKB is that it’s just a color — maybe Pantone 286, to be exact? Steal from the best. Get some shockingly blue paint and start spreading the sexy. Even that damn cardboard deer head looks better in Klein Blue.

OWI

Amanda Nisbet

Studio Ilse

Damian Russell

Or if you’re a fancy beast, they make blue upholstery, too.

1st Dib owner Michael Bruno’s Apartment

Greg Natale

Amie Weitzman

Cote Maison

And of course, sometimes just a dab will do you.

Whew, dudes, did you see all those pictures? This post was a labor of love. As in, I literally feel like I just squeezed out a giant blue baby. But my obsession with IYKB deserved the full treatment, so I’m just going to pat and coo and love this big blue spawn, because he’s such a handsome boy. Yes he is. Now, go forth and paint something Klein Blue. Make mama proud.

Bang, bang, Baroque is dead. There’s a new sheriff in town, and his name is Euclid. Along with Deputy Pythagoras, Sheriff Euclid is here to promote order — no blurry lines for this straight edged law man. Still, Euclid ain’t afraid to loosen up and get all scalene in the hizzy. So bust out your protractors and compasses, and don’t forget to bring your perpendicular polygons. Kids, we’re gonna wax axiomatic today.

Softly rounded biomorphic ribbon chairs by Pierre Paulin are the perfect foil to hard angles. via Karl Anderson.

Hot shiny circumference supported by sexy supplementary angles = featherweight heavy hitter. Geo Side Table by West Elm, $199.

Kelly Wearstler knows a thing or two about balancing solid forms. I love this idea. Going to tell The Hunny to bust out his whittling knife and get busy.

Who wants a piece of the Pi? Just don’t forget to square the radius, or you may end up with a wimpy circumference. via Ngoc Minh Ngo

These wee Hexpods would be fab dangling from fishline, forming a constellation of acute angled beauty. I would paint them gold and silver and hang them in front of a black wall. Small Hexpod is $9.95 from CB2.

Hexagons and rhombuses, unite! via Ruy Teixeria

Chad Hagen’s Nonsensical Infographic No. 1 may not prove any corollaries, but it does demonstrate how beautiful spatial relationships can be. Prints available through 20×200.

No funny stuff, just crushing on these rectangles. I want this painting bad. via Ngoc Minh Ngo.

Apparently the home owner never leaves his house. I wouldn’t either if I had a pool flanked by these mirrored isosceles megaliths. via OWI

I’m considering this rug for my redesigned living room. It’s probably too busy, but think of how much cat hair it would hide. Ikea Stockholm Rug, $229.

Wouldn’t it be awesome if just one window in your house had beevision? You have to appreciate how orderly those little captains of industry are. via Ruy Teixeira.

Balance. Mathematical perfection can come from a paint can. via Christoph Theurer

Boho Geo Fringe Pillow courtesy of Urban Outfitters, $38. Love it.

This is quite possibly the coolest bathroom I have ever seen. Something tells me I can’t get those cabinets from Ikea, but that’s not going to stop me from lusting after their trapezoidal beauty. via Christoph Theurer

That’s it for today’s roundup. Hopefully you were all able to follow along, and are prepared to take a pop quiz. Questions: What do you think of this new trend? Do you mourn the absence of curlicues? Could geo peacefully coexisit with flowery damask?

Is there anything less appealing than sculpted, 30 year old carpet in mottled shades of hamster hair brown and band aid beige? True, the latest house for sale that The Hunny and I toured was not as spectacular a fail as the house with a tree growing through the middle of the kitchen, but it had its own share of disgusting idiosyncrasies. Carpet, carpet everywhere — in the living areas, the hallways, the bedrooms, even the bathrooms (shudder). As I walked from room to room I felt the gentle crunch underfoot of 30 years worth of dirt, skin and dog hair, and even though I could see past the home’s prairie wallpaper, its frilly curtains, cheap plywood cabinets, even its popcorn ceilings, the carpet raised my hackles and left me with a scratchy, hairball feeling in the back of my throat. I wanted to rip that shit out in a rage and punch it in its face.

Doesn’t this carpet look like dog farts?

Sadly, we are not highrollers. But we want a big house in a good neighborhood with a huge, wooded yard. For cheap. So we’re probably going to have to fix up whatever we buy, and flooring will most likely top the list. Although we’re passing on the farty carpet house, it did get me to thinking: what if we did buy it and renovate? What would we replace 2500 sq ft of carpet with? Hardwoods are expensive, but to me they’re worth putting in living areas. But what about the bedrooms?

What about… carpet?

This isn’t so bad, is it?

Not my favorite bedroom in the world, but I don’t hate the sisal at all.

And it’s not like I couldn’t layer other rugs over it. Ok, maybe not the zebra…

But this doesn’t make me angry (just pretend the sisal runs wall to wall — you can do it, mental giants). And carpet would be cheaper than wood, right? Well, probably not the carpet I would want…

I would not kick Kelly Wearstler’s carpet out of my bedroom.

Or could you imagine having something like this running wall to wall in your bedroom? Kelly Wearstler’s guest house makes me want to swathe everything in neutral patterns.

If you really had vision (and money to burn), you could even go super bold, like the wall to wall carpet in this Mary MacDonald room.

Hey, did I malign sculpted carpet earlier? Perhaps it’s not so bad after all.

So, what do y’all think about carpet? Could it ever look modern? How about in a super nice sculpted berber or a sisal? Does anyone out there have fancy carpet? Did it cost 500 zillion dollars?

Am I crazy for even thinking about this?