Doing It

I've made a little headway on the oldest boy's room. Do you want to take a peek?



If you don't remember the general feel I was going for, I made a basic design plan here.




Then I bought the bed and pillow here.



Bedding is difficult for an older boy. His pirate sheets totally didn't work anymore. A comforter? Hurl.



I found this charcoal grey cashmere blanket at the thrift store yesterday (it's from that brief period of time when Banana Republic made some luxury home/gift items and cashmere baby clothes). It was new, the right size, and $12.95. The antique bed means I have to walk a fine line between granny and hip/young. The bedding looks masculine and kind of vintage militaria to me. I think it works.

We're going for a dark grey-blue wall and tested out some big swatches. The darkest one got the thumbs up.

But my most favorite addition is the brushed bronze starburst lamp. We had to have an electrician punch holes up the wall and across the ceiling to put it in. Our 90-year old house is almost completely timbered...there's only a couple inches between each framing beam, whereas most homes have one beam per wall and one across the ceiling. Thus the zigzagging holes.



Now we need to get the rest of the furniture (I'm thinking industrial) and art (some cool art posters from Poster Cabaret?)




This vintage Kevi chair would look delish in here, right?

America, America

We all know that the Danes and the Swedes are the cool kids, but American design can be pretty hip too, especially after I've gotten my hands on it.
The seats have new charcoal grey and white chevron upholstery and the walnut on all pieces is exceptional. The double-pedestal table goes on and on forever.
In the shop now.

What Got Gotten

I was feeling so droopy yesterday afternoon (I blame it on all the blood pooling in my butt from sitting so long), so to perk myself up I jammed over to "my" thrift store before the carpooling marathon commenced.

All of the clothes, shoes, and books were half off, so I pulled the trigger on a couple of impulse buys.

A vintage Phaedon book on Mid Century cinematography. It's so bee-yootiful. Is it just me or did technology kind of ruin photography? The photos from the 60s are so luscious.



Some gorgeous brown Western-y boots...my size (oh thrift store, sometimes you are a disorganized dirtbag, and sometimes you are so thoughtful).



Some vintage pigskin brogues/wingtips for my main squeeze (or this guy, depending on who's nicer...)



A sweet,vintage Hudson's Bay knock-off (I really like the softer, heathered colors more on this knock-off than the original...perfect for a nursery of kid's room)




And an antique Italian jardiniere signed "Gio" on the bottom. Could it be Gio Ponti? Maybe. From his first high school ceramics class. Who knows. Gio is going to hold my cotton balls for me.




So, alright, I didn't discover any Egyptian artifacts or anything. But it was really satisfying. There's nothing like a little guilt-free retail therapy.

Droopy no more, I swung my sensible car onto the road and cranked my mom tunes (Beastie Boys, misogynistic lyrics changed in my head). With my bag of loot riding shotgun, I merged into the chaos and drove like the wind.

Design Skool-Charlotte Perriand

Alternate title: "Proof that lady parts don't make you soft and stupid"

History doesn't march forward in a singular path towards enlightenment.
More often, it just goes around in circles, like a a merry-go-round passing the same marker over and over again, not necessarily better or worse or different than the time before.

Women didn't first enter the workforce in the 1940s. Or the 1960s. We might have even been more daring, more free, more experimental at the turn of the century than we are in our image-conscious good-girl world today.



I'm thinking of Charlotte Perriand, whose accomplishments in the 1920s and 30s make the 21st century look almost medieval.





She designed chairs for le Corbusier (the ones that are commonly attributed only to him), kitchens for his famous Unite d'Habitation apartments, pre-fab buildings with Jean Prouve, the League of Nations in Geneva, Espace Unesco in Paris, and, my favorite, these leather and chrome sling chairs and and barstools for Les Arc ski lodge.





You can click here for a more comprehensive list of her many accomplishments.

This was her response when they tried to make her get the coffee--a precursor to bra-burning?

Nervous Acne

No, it's not the name of my new business venture or band. Although it does work on a lot of levels...

After months of goofy blog commenting and messaging back and forth about the perils of furniture and the ever-dwindling supply of radness, and shamelessly brain-picking one another about business-y stuff, I finally stopped internet dating Morgan and drove out to the desert to meet her (and her shopping haunts!) in person.



I almost peed my pants and got a nervous zit in anticipation. The zit wasn't nervous. I was. I hope that's clear.

I'm not about to reduce her to a bunch of overused superlatives. You know how I feel about that. Even though she is the best-est, most-est, talented-est, etc., that's just not the whole of it.



She spent the day propping me up to everyone we met, although failing to mention who she was, and simultaneously fielding calls all day from famous people I won't mention (but I reeeeeeeally want to), demurring about how freakishly in demand she is ("Oh, it's really nothing. All I do is write some blog.."), hesitating to reveal to others the magnitude of the projects she's working on. And she gently shamed me with her knowledge of art. You could say she's down-to-earth, but that really doesn't quite do it. She's also admirable and educated and sweetly shy and modest. And tough, and kind, and driven, and generous.



I really wish I had taken some pictures, especially of the ex-model junk shop owner with green hair and my Ace pot pie. And the windmills we criss-crossed back and forth through a thousand times, and the snowy San Jacinto mountains suddenly looming out above us like some desert Mt. Fuji. But I was bewitched and forgot about the 10 pounds of camera in my purse.



And the Brick House? It's even better in person.


Thanks for everything, Morgan. Love, Coy Pooper

Eames LCW molded birch lounge and Danish teak platform bed

In the shop now

I don't really know a camera lens from a banana, but man did I really love-love taking pictures of the Eames LCW. I'm having big seller's remorse issues with this one. But please, do take it. The chairs in this house multiply overnight. Where do you think those Vitra Eames miniatures come from?








The enormous girth of the Danish platform bed made it a little harder (ok, nearly impossible) to photograph. Still, it's undeniably yummy don't you think?







If you have any questions about these pieces, please just let me know
Click here to go to the shop

Design Skool

This is going to be a new feature, okay?
Together we are going to get skooled in the world of design.

Mostly I want us all to get to know lesser-known designs and designers from the Mid-Century era because they are WAY more exciting than the over-exposed normal stuff (tomorrow, Charlotte Perriand...doesn't ring a bell, does it? It should, it will, and you will die, but don't skip ahead!)

But today, let's go to Australia. Australians are crazy drunken koala lovers. All of them. No but really, as a whole Australians don't seem to be big rule-followers. So, Australian design seems very fresh to me.

Let's look at this pretty great example of ethnic-modern by Thomas Hamel, koala-hugging Aussie dude extraordinaire.

kuba cloth pillows + sofa of your dreams + sexy graphic ethnic rug =



candy-colored leather + every house needs a Persian rug =



super-classical ebonized klismos chairs + fretwork screens + lean/modern chandeliers=



built-in sectional that goes on for days, oh my gosh I would never leave =



What makes this modern, despite lots of antique and classical pieces?

Chalky-white walls

Bleached and pickled woods

Heaps of natural fibers (that's fibres to you Aussies)

No heavy/dark/ornate fixtures or old-people art (you know, gold framed portraits etc.)

Good job, Thomas Hamel. You have the Modernhaus seal of approval. The apex of your career, I'm sure!

Read more about talented Aussie dude here.

p.s., Thom (can I call you that?) ummm can we re-think the shell mirror though? I mean, I know the house is in Florida and you're referencing the ocean thing and all, but I'd almost rather see something cheeky like a giant plastic Marlin hanging there. Every house needs something sort of out of place to throw things off a bit, yeah?