Hoodwinked

If I admit that the following pictures have been scattered far and wide across the net since midsummer would that prevent you from reading this post? Hopefully not, because I've got a Top Design review coming up later, (maybe even much later this afternoon since my evening television viewing was preempted by the debate) but I didn't want to leave you twisting in the wind without your daily fix of decor crack. Behold the vision of British designer Suzy Hoodless:

suzy hoodless

I kind of think this is the most awesome room, ever. (Do I say that a lot? Well, there's quite a few awesome rooms out there...) I don't usually like this super streamlined furniture, but with the crazy cinderblock walls, the insane mural thing, and the most amazing window that I would sell Hunny Bunny's kidney for, those couches are perfection.

suzy hoodless

Once again: perfect amount of layers. Love the clean pops of color against muted patterns and textures. And I'm not usually about random animal antlers scattered on my tabletop, but this is a hunting lodge in Scotland. Maybe when you finish your meal, you just toss the bones into the "centerpiece?"

suzy hoodless

Ok, I wish this was the console table I had in front of my hallway wallpaper. LOVE it! Also, I think this is the first picture I've ever seen with orchids that look purposeful... They're growing... near a window! Gasp! You would think most orchids were born to sit atop some ugly coffee table in a Trading Spaces room. Or at a realtor's open house.

suzy hoodless

I have a wee fixation with old Persian rugs. And Thonet chairs. And large hunks of wood. And red. Yes, it's a killer combination of au natural with modern polish.

suzy hoodless

Bet you didn't see this one coming, did you? Did you?

It's a dark and scary night at yet another Hoodless designed hunting lodge in Scotland. After a long day wading through the marshes and high moors under a gray and drizzling sky, you return to your bunk in hopes of a quiet evening with a good book, and then a night of restorative sleep. As you open the heavy door hewn from rough timber, knob worn from centuries of travelers much like yourself, you notice a single candle burning near the end of the room. Suddenly, the flame wavers wildly and you hear a noise behind you...

Hawh hawh hawh... chih chih chih...Β  hawh hawh hawh... chih chih chih...

A scream sounds behind you and the candle sputters violently out. Hot pressure at your throat -- you feel yourself choking and you try desperately to inhale but your mouth is covered by fur...

The rug! The rug! As your vision clouds and throbs and tunnels to a close, you find that the last thoughts flittering across your darkening mind are... Tooo.... rustic. Tooooo.... rustic!

I love ya, Suzy, but would a little bit of modern refinement be amiss? Maybe electricity, even?