When I was 16, I had this obsession with what my mother's life at my age was like. It would have been 1969, and I imagined her running wild and free on the beaches of California, hanging with hot surfer dudes and smoking the reefer (Legal Disclaimer: I have absolutely no first hand knowledge of said activities). Sifting through various old photos showed me that Mom was stunning, with long, straight 60's blond hair and big Twiggy eyes, and the kind of figure that a 16 year old late bloomer could only dream about. So between the hot dudes, reefer, and hot mom, it was easy to envision this super glamorous, ultra hip, swinging lifestyle set to the music and crazed colors and all of the happenings of the sixties. Sadly, my obsession materialized as a suede fringed vest, ankle breaker clogs, oddly braided hair, and a predilection for The Beach Boys and Jefferson Airplane. Yes, something was missing in translation.
Although my tastes have (mostly) matured over the years, there will always be this part of me that yearns to turn my house into an all out psychedelic den of mindblowing prints, patterns and colors. Because I'm too old to do drugs, people. But I still like The Beach Boys.
I wouldn't normally kick off a tour of my teenage dream pad with a bathroom picture, but the folks at M Interiors know something about mixing business with pleasure. The all-overness is killing me (in a good way), and I desperately need that swag light. STAT!
In the powder room, I will be featuring this wallpaper by artiste Virgil Marti:
Yes, that is fluorescent ink printed on black rayon flock. Hot damn, I love that wallpaper. Add some NyQuil, and you've got yourself an experience. Oh, and the blacklights would be sure to highlight any hygiene indiscretions.
Now that your hands are clean, you can come eat. The dining area would go a little something like this:
Wary Meyers, scroungy heroes of hip brokesters everywhere, starched vintage fabric onto the walls and used the leftovers to upholster matching cushions for their tulip chairs. Genius on the cheap.
The hallway leading from my fantasy dining area to the fantasy living quarters would be swathed in a trippy pattern from floor to ceiling, like this crazy tunnel of love from Domino:
Temo Callahan (whoever you are), the rest of your batshite insane pad makes me claustrophobic, but this is an epic Willy Wonkaesque masterpiece.
The living room will feature a ton of funky fabrics and patterns, of course:
M Interiors seem to be masters of mind reading, because I love this classic empire sofa recovered in a wackadoo print. Keeping the pieces vintage but recovering with fresh fabric prevents fauxchedelic syndrome:
Woof. No amount of NyQuil can make that palatable. The chrome legs, especially, make my eyes bleed. Even though this is a designer piece presented in Milan, I just know that's a cheap Sofamart couch with a nylon slipcover stretched over the foam. And that is wrong.
Must get back to my happy place, pronto!
Aaaahhhh... that's better. This picture by super photographer Ngoc Minh Ngo demonstrates the softer side of psychedelia. Of course, in my crazy fantasy pad, I would have to spice things up a bit. We'll be needing some art:
My real life pad may have to borrow these Andy Gilmore pieces from the fantasy pad. Because they're AMAZING. And homeboy has an Etsy shop. Yes he does.
I'll definitely need a special chair to sit in and concentrate on Gilmore's goodness...
This groovy chair upholstered in rad Jack Lenor Larsen fabric ought to do the trick. That dude had vision. Like the kind that comes from peyote.
Or, I could always keep the furnishings lean and go the psychedelic wallpaper route, a la Kelly Wearstler:
Whoa. Who needs a tv when you could just watch the wallpaper dance?
After all that dancing, I may need to chillax in my super restful bedroom:
Sorry about the terrible pictures, but I just had to show UK hotel, The Miller of Mansfield, getting its groove on. Bed In, anyone? I will be co opting that top headboard for the fantasy pad, thank you.
Perhaps I'll go a bit more minimal in the guest bedroom.
I love everything about this bedroom from Ngoc Minh Ngo's portfolio for my real life pad, including the fab psychedelic pillows. For my teenage dream home, though, I think we'll need a wee bit more drama.
Let's see -- this crazy wallpaper in a Suzy Hoodless designed hospital seems to be about the right color scheme... and who doesn't want a giant creepy owl hooting at them in the middle of the night? Whooo? Whooo?
Phew, I'm tired after a long and stimulating day of looking. I may need to sit in my little nook papered with this chill Ferm pattern:
The chair is staying, fo shiz. I will need it to sit and meditate on how the future is going to be so much brighter since we will soon be out from under the thumb of oppression, and we won't need to protest the war anymore, or rebel against narrow minded conservative zealots. Unless you live in California. Or Florida. I guess there's always a need for more flower power.
