Animal Farm

If you've been reading this blog for more than five minutes, then it's no secret that I have a special place in my heart for animals. And brass. And especially for brass animals. I do own a sparkly little guy named Brian who brings me joy whenever I spy his upturned hooves from across the room, where he patiently defends his territory from the sometimes loving, occasionally psychotic embraces of a toddler who shares mama's love for four legged creatures. That's why when I saw this, I almost lost my marbles.

The home of Lauren Santo Domingo, via A Dreamer's Den.

Holy Claude and Francois-Xavier Lalanne! You know how you can just muddle through life -- just get by somehow -- and on the surface things are good, but there's always this little piece of you deep down inside that senses something is missing? This is what's missing from my life. I need a hippo bar.

While I'm self diagnosing my internal weaknesses, I think this is missing, too.

Via Little Augury.

Do you see that magnificent creature, with its furtive bestial head that says, Push me! Pull me! Also, its splendiferous practicality is not to be ignored. It's a desk. The Lalannes were nothing if not captains of industry.

Via If the Lampshade Fits

Practical, yes -- but you have to admire their sense of humor. If dear old Francois were alive today, I'm sure he would have enjoyed Portlandia's cheeky advice to just put a bird on it. Birds make everything better.

Pamplemousse Design

I firmly believe the Lalannes were also responsible for the mouton movement, and here les moutons are lovingly ensconced next to a watering hole. So thoughtful of the designers. Stuffed animals have needs, too.

Peter Marino

But in all fairness, my heart belongs to the bronze pieces, because I never met a bit of bling I didn't want to take home to meet daddy. Put a Lalanne alligator chair beneath a Francis Bacon painting and you have one of my favorite pairings of all time. This picture is so good that it just blew my mind up, and if I have one axon and dendrite left to fire up the old synapses and finish this round up, then I'll be amazed...

Architectural Digest

Thank you, Claude and Francois Xavier Lalanne -- you are entirely responsible for blowing almost all of my neural circuitry, but it was worth it.

Good luck working after all that mind blowing awesomeness.

I Just Got the Best Present Ever

Yes -- the best present ever, because when I opened the link Raina sent me I almost stroked out from the insanity of it all. I love art, I love houses, and when the two get together and do the horizontal mambo, they make beautiful, very expensive babies. Just how expensive?  Well, if you sold every organ in your body on the black market, you still couldn't afford any of the art in this house (plus you'd be dead).

I mean, you know you're rich when Warhol's rorschach paintings don't even rate a mention in the listed "pieces of note." And that's just the office.

Or maybe the author simply tired of referencing Warhol 8,567 times, since the home of fabulously wealthy psychiatrist Samantha Boardman and her real estate mogul husband Aby Rosen has more Warhol pieces in it than a museum.

Apparently they are also nonplussed by the proximity of so much fragile cash to two tiny toddlers. According to Boardman, “We have taught the kids how to live with [art]  and how to learn from it, but we have also taught them how to respect it.” That's code for: the nannies steer them around it. Because even the best kid will wait until you turn your back and then drive their Big Wheels into a temptingly towering stack of cardboard boxes... by Andy Warhol.

Still, you have to give the Boardman-Rosens respect for using their superrich powers for good and not evil. They probably could have single handedly bailed out Goldman Sachs, but instead they bought art. Really good art. Francis Bacon is perhaps my favorite painter in the whole universe, and that Damien Hirst sculpture ain't shabby, either. But that's not to say that I would have made exactly the same curatorial choices if I were obscenely wealthy.

William de Kooning + Richard Prince = Yes. The table is gorgeous, too, but that terrarium-as-art thingie confuses me.

Cy Twombly = hell to the yes, but Jeff Koons will never be my favorite artist. I know it's conceptual and all, but it still looks like they decided to hang the kids' pool toy next to one of the greatest painters of all time. The rug, however, gets my seal of approval (as if they need it).

Taxidermy may be out, but Maurizio Cattelan is the original gangsta. Props.

Check out the rest of the Vogue sildeshow, where you will learn that the kids are adorable but perhaps a wee bit spoiled (not judging -- I'd happily move into their life), the library is a hot mess (judging), and outdoor space is at a premium in NYC even for the uber wealthy.

Thanks again to Raina at If the Lampshade Fits for the tip!

10 Things That Make Me Happy

I've been tagged by lovely Sherri of The Claw to play a little game, and hooray! lucky for everyone reading this, I love games. I'm supposed to list 10 things that make me happy, and the hardest part was whittling down a universe of goodness into an earth sized post. Let's get this party started, right? Quickly! #1. SLEEP

amazing bedroom

Rees Roberts

Having a baby means never sleeping again. Ever. Just thinking about cozying up in that bed and snoozing for eight straight hours makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. And don't think I'm so sleep deprived that my glazy eyes missed that rock wall. After I wake from my beauty sleep, I plan to strap on a harness and scale that puppy... or maybe just sleep some more.



Francis Bacon

Artists with clean work spaces are like studio gangstas. You gotta make a mess to get shit done, yo... or at least that's what I tell myself when my house looks like this. Obviously, I am getting A LOT of shit done.




Ok, so maybe it's a not so little cabin, but let's face it -- asceticism was never my strong suit. I need polished floors and mod furnishings to make my stay in the wild worthwhile. Oh, and big fat windows from which I can view The Hunny doing his hot lumberjack routine outside (while I rest comfortably indoors, sipping a cocktail, thank you very much).



I took this picture about four years ago, and the cathedrals of Prague still set my flying buttresses atingle whenever I look at them. Someday we'll go somewhere again. Someday.



If the Lampshade Fits

I could probably open up a lighting store with just my leftover lamps and chandeliers. I can't walk into a thrift store without buying something electric, and lately I've been taking my light lust to Ebay in the hopes of snagging something as magical as this chandelier. Oh, and I'll also take the sideboard, the chairs, and the MARBLE wall. I'm passing on the dining table, because I don't want anyone to think I buy my furniture at Office Depot.


pierre cardin

Pierre Cardin

Did someone say Ebay? Well, I am currently OBSESSED with Pierre Cardin anything -- clothes, jewelry, and most importantly, furniture. The hot credenza in this pic is currently up along with an entire bedroom set in mint condition. If you have a ton of cash, let me try to talk you into buying it... you know it would look amazing in your house.


erin williamson

Hell yes, you know I love me some bargains! My house would be a barren wasteland without the bountiful trifecta of Craigslist, Ebay and thrift stores. That goes for the hoop chairs, Brian the golden deer, the marble and teak coffee table, the teak plantstand, the couch, etc. But not the rug. I can't do a recycled rug. Gross.


marilyn minter


I have a thing for big stuff. That sounds dirty, and maybe it is. After all, is it properly chaste to find my pulse racing at the sight of this colossal Marilyn Minter painting? I think not.


silver and gold togos

Richard Powers

And what's even better than silver and gold? Silver and gold TOGO COUCHES. Raina is probably having a heart attack right now. Sorry, babe!


ike roy

You suckas didn't think you were going to make it through this post without seeing a picture of Ike, did you? This one was taken on Christmas Eve in Hawaii, when we were out visiting my family. He's pretty cute, so I think we're going to keep him -- at least until puberty attacks.

That's it for the things that make me happy. Ok, there are a zillion more, but I ain't got time for all that. If one of you dudes want to play the game, let me know in the comments and I'll hook you up with a shoutout.


Well hootie hoo, guess what? I'm twisting Alison of Lipstick On Your Teeth's rubber arm and forcing her to play along. Go get 'em, tiger!