I have the overwhelming urge to buy something, and it just might be a giant black leather couch

Who am I? A 20 year old frat boy who buys black leather in the vain hope it might hide evidence of keg parties and debauchery at large? Nary a few months ago I put my foot down and stated that I am, unequivocally, a brown leather kind of girl. And then I saw this: black couch leather

Except it comes in a super long four seat configuration and I think I must have it.

Am I crazy? I mean... yes. Of course I am. But will I regret selling my other couches and buying this? PS, our living room looks nothing like that right now. I keep planning to shoot it and post updates, but our couches continue to annoy me. I'm over them. I think.

We moved everything over from the old house and it just doesn't fit here. The chesterfield is pretty, but not big enough to be the main couch. The tan couch is pretty, but maybe kind of blah with the wall color. I can't really afford to buy an entire new room of furniture so I have to do it piecemeal, which means our living room will look terrible while I decide what to buy post giant sofa purchase... basically redecorating when you're poor is stupid, but I'm considering it anyway.

Here's some black leather inspiration:

black de sede

black nate berkus

black sofa oushak

black leather chesterfield

kelly wearstler desede

I hear once you go black you never go back.

What say you? Yay or nay?


No, I'm not talking about that 50 Shades of Drivel that seems to be spreading faster than a faux pandemic -- like the bird flu or Y2K. I'm talking about my nascent need to add some cray cray custom upholstered masterpiece to my life. Something that will hold the viewer in thrall and command the scene. In fact, I'm pretty convinced that every room needs a little dominating.


 Apparently it has to be a large, insanely expensive item.

I am poor middle class and I can't sew (a button, maybe?), therefore common sense dictates that I should tackle my wee little chairs first.

Baby steps. Baby dominatrix. That's kind of skeevy.

Weather is being very uncooperative (rain in Austin? in summer???!), but I promise Ike's room reveal will be up as soon as I can shoot it.

Honestly it's good that I can't do it today because I got about four hours of sleep last night worrying about the cleaning lady coming tomorrow... if I weren't pregnant I'm pretty sure someone would prescribe horse tranquilizers for my anxiety.

Nesting ain't no joke, y'all.

 [Pinterest sources for pics hereish, because it's summer and I'm lazy]

I Went to the Danger Zone

After today's post you may doubt yesterday's words and fear that I am headed squarely into geriatric territory... hopefully not, but this morning I couldn't remember where the coffee cups were, so you never know. Anyhow, let's talk fringe -- you know, those strings that hang off stuff. We could also call it bullion if you want to get fancy. Whatever it is, I like it (as evidenced by a previous post I penned on the topic). Is fringe antithetical to all things clean and minimal? Uh, maybe. Will it confuse my Roomba as it attempts to vacuum under the couch? Probably. Let's see if obscuring form and laughing in the face of function is worth it, shall we?

Jeffrey Bilhuber pairs jewel tones with a fringed, skirted foyer table. I'm starting you fringe neophytes off easy.

ps: curtains!

Celerie Kemble loves hairy fringe, but you must check out the whole picture:

That amazing chandellier by Guglielmo Ulrich blows me away, but I like the fringe, too. The pink Dr. Doolittle settee scares me a little.

Richard Shapiro does (back to back) brown linen sofas with matching bullion for House of Veranda -- crisp and tailored. Again love the jewel tones. Someday when I buy a big girl couch I'm considering this color. It's warm but plays well with brights and neutrals.

Miles Redd goes grandma chic, but I would snatch that sofa out of this room and dress it down in a heartbeat.

And still my favorite, so I'm shamelessly reposting it: Pamplemousse does arty fringe. I want to have sex with that sofa. Or on it. Who cares? Sex... sofa.

Now I know my pal Christian is probably about to ban me from his contacts, because he hates the fringe so much. But I want to know what you think... are you crossing me off the awesome list, too?

I was already on it, right?

Just remember the immortal words of the great poet and sage Kenny Loggins (or whoever actually wrote the song):

Out along the edges Always where I burn to be The further on the edge The hotter the intensity

Highway to the danger zone Gonna take you Right into the danger zone

Go there.