Among the 872 new items I need for my house is a new sofa. You would think I just landed on planet earth yesterday and have never had a place to sit, eat or look at artwork before. That's not true, I just want to get rid of everything I've ever owned and replace it with all the furniture from the Viceroy. Since that probably won't happen for at least another couple of days, I have to live with my fantasies and handy-work until then. Enter, my inspiration sofas. Bask in the glories people:
designers Nipa Doshi and Jonathan Levien, purveyors of all things great and true, pull at my heartstrings once again with their sofa, beautiful backside, available at Moroso. With an unlisted price, it must be free and I'm sure shipping from Italy is pas de problem. Incase, like me, you want to fill your room floor to ceiling with their heavenly goods you may also want to consider their princess and the pea bench:
It is with the utmost respect and kindness that I say: I can totally knock that sucker off. Perhaps my legs will pale in comparison to the glory pictured above but I can apply black laquer to a thrift-store bench like nobody's business. Enter a few thin foam pads... and, oh! some of that Ikea fabric Erin just posted about and geeeze, louise, I've got a hot hot seating area for my bedroom. How do you like them apples? Tasty and delicious, I say.
Incase you like to be reminded of your eminent demise all the live long day, perhaps this little number from, ahem, coffincouches.com is for you:
I'm a claustraphobe to the max and have informed all my friends and loved ones that I want to be creamated for fear of eternity in a wee little box, I clearly can't handle the coffin couch. I am however a bit charmed by it's mix of luxury and whimsy with a creepyness factor of eight hundred thousand.
If you love the coffin couch but don't want to be troubled by all that messy death stuff, might I suggest another option: I am currently in the middle of a hot and heavy romance with Jaime Hayon's BD Showtime collection:
Like the coffin couch it has a hard outer shell (safe for use underground?) and a sexy tufted leather inside. Unlike the coffin couch, it comes with a lady in turquoise. Brace yourselves, people, you are about to spend the next 437 years listening to me wax poetic about our lord and saviour, designer Jaime Hayon. Buckle up.
In my quest for the perfect seat, I find myself, time and time again drooling all over my keyboard at the likes of these beautiful boxy couches:
la la la love the clean modern lines, ha ha ha hate the vintage/designer price tags. Dear, sweet matty bear swears he can make me any of them, just hand him a picture, but I fear that this project might slow down the kitchen remodel I'm forcing upon him so instead, I bought this on craigslist today:
Once you've dried your eyes from all the tears of pain you likely just shed and are able to read again, let me promise you, dear readers, this solemn vow: I karly, of sound mind and body, promise to sand down each and every piece of wood, re-stain with a semi opaic black benjamin moore stain, and cover with a protective, shimmery polyeurethaine coat. I also will rip and shred every heinous piece of denim from this sad sad sofa only to recover with love and kindness in a lovely fabric, possibly from Ferm or (sigh) Ikea. Pick up is scheduled for tomorrow, before and after post to follow.