Dear Architectural Digest

I just got my May issue and the cover looks mighty familiar:

That's because I posted another view of that room over two months ago:

Translation: you should hire me to do art direction, or trend forecasting (or just hang out at your offices and look cool while I sip martinis with Margaret Russell), because I can see at least two months into the future... although you probably planned this issue three months ago. So maybe that means I can see one month into the past?

Did I just talk myself out of a job?

Just Put the Dogs Down and No One Gets Hurt

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.

Architectural Digest Gone Wild!

Will you think less of me if I admit I'm a bit of a shelter mag virgin? Sure, I've been blogging art and interiors for going on three years now, but until recently I depended on the internet for my resources. Thanks to a generous holiday gift, I am now the proud owner of AD and Elle Decor subscriptions. I'm sure trees everywhere are throwing up their branches in disgust, but what can I say? I'm addicted to the glossies already. So I was pretty stoked to get AD. I mean, Margaret Russell at the helm = instant awesomeness, right? Well, my January issue arrived and I was bewildered. The February issue arrived and I was confounded. As it turns out, the current issue is the first with La Russell's indelible mark. So now the March issue has arrived and I've been full on flashed by naked drunken boobies -- metaphorically speaking, of course.

That's not a bad thing. I like boobies.

Heiress and tastemaker Daphne Guinness' New York apartment almost warrants two black bars to cover up the naughty bits. Guinness maintains her space combines, "the shine of Metropolis... with the lush flora of Suddenly, Last Summer... a sort of savage modernism." I have to say that I sort of scratched my head at her apartment until I read that sentence, and then everything just clicked into place for me. I won't post the rest of her home, but you can see it over at 2THEWALLS (a seriously fantastic blog).

Beyond the types of projects featured this month (a glorious home designed by Commune, among them), the biggest change that stands out to me is the photography. I swear, AD homes always looked like nothing so much as mausoleums, darkly photographed using only artificial light. Downright dead and dull.

With Thomas Loof on duty as principal photographer at Guinness' shoot, and the inimitable Francois Halard at the helm of Pierre Passebon's wild and wacky pad (designed in collaboration with Jacques Grange, no less), things are looking a lot brighter. Alive, even.

RIP, old AD. Boobies in your face.