My body is back from NY but my mind is still there. I had such an amazing time, but I slept very little and got in very late, and now I have scrambled egg brain. I'll be back later to regale you with tales of my exploits, but for now I just want to make sure that you've seen this:

Reader Corinna emailed to inform me that I was vacationing scant miles away from greatness. I really thought about hopping on the subway, showing up at Jessica's insane Brooklyn home, and demanding a tour, but sanity prevailed when I considered how I might feel if some random stalker freak popped up unannounced at my door... I'd pretty much just call the police.

Or stab the intruder with my amazing brutalist lamps.

Or perhaps I'd drown them in my incredible bathtub.

Or maybe just bludgeon them with my stunning onyx coffee table.

Perhaps my little trope is wearing thin, but I think you'll agree that I should have risked death to tour this place.

Next time, Jessica. Next time. I suggest you lock down the lucite record player before I come, though.

[JP Warren Interiors, Desire to Inspire]

Last Saturday Karly and I accompanied our bff on an alcohol soaked wedding dress shopping extravaganza (holy jeebus, Sunday sucked), and we happened to pass by Howl's new storefront on South Lamar while hoofing it across Unbridaled's parking lot. I've driven past this place a few times and their siren sign always calls to me. Each time I've fought the urge to U-turn in the middle of Austin traffic, fishtailing and tires squealing all 70's car movie style. Did I mention that the sign is eye catching?

It promises a carnivalesque good time, and it delivers. Come on, let's take a little tour.

The first thing you need to know is that this place is dark and moody, and my ancient point and shoot just can't handle anything other than rainbow flecked crystalline sunlight with grace and aplomb, so sorry for the janky pictures.

I'm going to go ahead and say this place is one part Uncommon Objects, one part Uptown Modern, and no parts Room Service. If you aren't an Austinite, let me translate: there's some rust, some burl -- both 70s and antique, and there are zero ceramic owls.

Karly already has her first purchase wrapped up and ready to go. Too bad we are po bitches.

We both deemed this lucite couch worthy of our love and affection. I am burning that pillow with my mind, though. Firestarter style.

Jesus don't want me for a sunbeam.

Cousin It the goat wants to live in Ike's room.

A gorgeous olive burl Baughman table just like the one I found for my buddy's house. The elephant is trumpeting his seal of approval.

I found the store to be charming, and the proprietor to be adorably adorable. The prices ranged from holy %^* expensive to quite reasonable -- they had a flossy Paul Evans/brutalist barrel chair in dire need of upholstery for about $250, which is not bad for Austin prices. I was hoping to find a bit more modern in the mix, mostly artwise. I'm on a big antiques jag right now, but I feel like all that patina needs some edge to sharpen it up.

Hopefully Howl is reading this and will call me with a bargain basement de Kooning or Sol Lewitt... fingers crossed!