Sofas Of Our Lives (SOOL)

Like sands through the hourglass, bitches! It wasn't easy, but I have finally finally finally taken some new pictures of my house so you can watch the drama unfold. Now, this is primarily a tale of conflicting couches, but stay tuned for side plots involving angled walls, terrible tv and stereo equipment, annoying door situations, and the obligatory regrets, excuses and fantasies.

Exposition:

Today's episode is set in a quirky 60s ranch house with issues -- like a crazy angled rock fireplace, a weird recess in the back wall, a wall-way, and a ridiculous door that opens into the room. Click le pic for a larger image.

The Players:

Hailing from Ethan Allen via craigslist, navy blue chesterfield sofa is petite yet all enveloping, soft yet remarkably supportive. Sexy as though she may be, the vagaries of time have not been kind to her (in other words, my cat scratched the crap out of her backside), and she's feeling abused, neglected, beaten down. Let's just say her name is Krystle.

Lean, powerful, and expensive, tan couch set hails from Elite Leather via ebay. 100% aniline, he don't mess around with frou frou binders or chemicals, preferring instead to flash his scars and wrinkles like the badges of patinaed wisdom they are. He may be a tough, no nonsense kind of a guy, but he also knows how to make sweet sweet love to your body. We will call him Blake.

The Interloper:

Blake and Krystle have always had an uneasy relationship. Who ever thought that navy and tan could be happy in a black and gray world, anyway? But through years of proximity (and counseling with a similarly hued rug), they've learned to make it work. Until she came along.

Could this skinny slut be anyone other than Alexis, the cougar of couches? 70s rosewood casing with (not so) virgin wool upholstery, Alexis is compact and calculating. Even though I knew Blake and Krystle -- while not an eternal match -- were at least reasonably happy together, I let Alexis sing her sweet siren craigslist song to me. Basically, she said, "I'm cheap! I'm easy! And I'm sexy as hell!"

And she was. All of these things. But she scraps like a hyena with both Blake and Krystle, plus she's a rock hard bitch. So to the office she went. Well, at least the office is looking better.

The story should probably end here, with a tenuous but palpable equilibrium. But there is always conflict brewing on the backburner...

Side Plots:

Technology, with its innumerable wires and hideous shiny blackness, is the bane of my existence. Also, my inability to replace those chairs with small cabinets housing the speakers is driving me to distraction. This is an endless source of real life conflict between me and The Hunny, who is seemingly bound by a testosterone oath not to crapoflage his ugly stereo equipment.

Then there is the door of hell that prevents sofa seating against this wall -- the wall that faces the tv. Good planning!

This is the best furniture configuration yet. We have tried every possible permutation, and here it is. I should be happy. There are starving children in China. Not happy. Never happy. Want new couch. Want new house with no weird floorplan issues. Want to stop wanting things. So, SOOL lovers -- tell me what's next. What happens in the next episode of the drama? Do Blake and Krystle get broken up or do they kiss and make up? Does Alexis the sexy 70s set get sold to a dealer for a buttload of cash? Do I reconfigure the seating yet again??? Nevermind, I am way too damn tired for that.

Do I buy this sofa off craigslist for 50% of the retail price, thereby turning my living room into a satellite of Karly's house, since she has the exact same couch? I am 99.9% sure this is a bad idea for many many many reasons, but I like to hold craigslist bargains in my mind like a pebble and rub them constantly.

As if you didn't already know that the real drama was me.

What Have I Done?!

After months of resisting the urge to buy another single solitary stick of furniture for this overstuffed house, I finally gave in to temptation. Craigslist has been wining and dining me with brass this and lucite that, but I stayed strong. Until something suddenly came up.

And now I have a seven foot long black leather grub worm in my kitchen/dining area.

I hope you will forgive the janky photos as I didn't have a lot of time to play Richard Avedon this morning, but I think you can still make out the fact that I have a GIANT BLACK LEATHER THING IN MY DINING ROOM.

Actually, this "thing" is a Tobia Scarpa for Cassina chaise and matching ottoman (with labels!) that I scored for $75 including delivery. BLAMMO! It's a pretty sweet deal considering that it should go for a minimum of 10x that price. If you could find one.

It do be having some issues, though. Like a missing button, and some scuffs and a few deep gouges. I think I'm going to order some leather dye and polish this bad boy up, but I don't know what to do about the button. I'm totally open to advice on leather care.

But some day I'd really like to reupholster this behemoth because black leather is not the bizness -- sorry, black leather lovers. Karly says it will be a nightmare, but how awesome would this be in a super slubby oatmeal linen?

Oh, you know... kinda like the ones Kelly Wearstler has in her fancy beach mansion. The mansion that she's selling for 21.9 MILLION. Maybe she wants to buy my chair, too?

But I digress. It can't be that hard to drape some fabric over the frame, wave your hands over the surface, and hey presto! this baby into life, right? Can I get an Amen?

But my biggest problem is that I bought a giant thing and I AINT GOT NOWHERES TO PUT IT, which is why it's occupying its own zip code in my dining area. Shhhhhh, do not tell the Hunny about this little epiphany I just had, since he was totally against this really stupid purchase in the first place, and I do not feel like putting up with his I told you so shenanigans. But in my defense, this picture was dancing like a sugarplum in my head when I decided I just had to had to had to have it:

Thank you, Karl Anderson, for taking such a gorgeous stunning beautiful picture and making me buy this dumb thing I don't need. You bastard.

Ok, I bet you thought this post was going to end right here, but you were so very wrong. It gets worse.

You see, along with the chaise I also bought this Pace Collection coffee table for another whopping $75. BLAMMO! Score! Plus the dude delivered it to my house along with the chaise, which is a big fat freaking deal, since it weighs 200 lbs. At least. Seriously, I do not want this thing to live in my cramped, overstuffed office, but now that it's in there, it's going to take an act of congress to move it.

(Sidenote: check out the teak desk (which used to be our dining table) raised up on blocks in the reflection of the chrome. This was the Hunny's brilliant solution to a too low table that would not allow him to roll his chair underneath it. We are keeping it klassy at our house.)

So now I have a giant black thing in a place where no seat should be, plus a coffee table that I can't move because it weighs more than me, Ben and Ike, stacked up like a pyramid of clowns on a bicycle. I took a picture of my finger next to the glass and chrome so you can see how thick it is. It's probably going to drop through our floor any second.

So I'm thinking I could put the Scarpa chaise and ottoman against the wall where that futon (covered with a tapestry) is right now, and the futon will go live with someone else -- which is no great loss since futons are hideous, worthless pieces of furniture, anyway. But before I can put the chaise there, I have to move the coffee table. UGH. I suppose the table can live at the end of my giant bed, which I promise to photograph someday after I clean my room, but that probably won't happen anytime soon, so don't hold your collective breath. You can't have everything, you know.

I personally am taking a very deep breath right now, and I'm going to put on my magic brain cap and figure out how to solve this dilemma. I'm afraid the solution involves buying a bigger house, and that makes me all anxious in my innards, and now I feel an overwhelming sense of analysis paralysis.

I think I might just take a quick look at Craigslist instead.

Rip Van Winkle

Every year I start off with a new laundry list of resolutions -- eat better, exercise (ha!), make stuff, be cooler -- but this year there's only one resolution that really matters: LEAVE THE HOUSE. Yes friends, I am finally out of the Guantanamo Bay stage of parenthood and IT'S AWESOME. Baby Ike is now magically entertained by salt shakers and menus, and wouldn't you know that mama's boy loves a good bargain. Whew! Thank jeebus he takes after me and not his thriftphobic daddy, because then I'd have to check the return policy on both of them. So, Karly and I took the Ikester out on thrift rounds recently, and I managed to score some great finds with my lucky charm in tow. In the spirit of my house sharing resolution, I snapped some pics so you could bask in the glory of my goodies, as well as in my delicious new freedom.

I almost had to scrap with some chick over my excellent new plant stand, which came from the Salvation Army for $25. Kinda steep, but it's heavy and has a mirrored bottom, and the middle thingie moves. Plus someone else wanted it, so of course that made me like it even more. But it does look pretty smooth with my new tulip chair, which is in dire need of a cushion. One day at a time...

I totally had the Lichtenstein post in mind when I picked up this set of dishes, although Karly says they look like a Bill Cosby sweater... we can both be right, can't we? $30 for the entire set, although I need more bowls. I found some replacements online, but two bowls cost as much as I paid for the entire set. Uh, no.

A closeup of the totally tubular 80s graphics. The Hunny stacked them all OCD like. I'm planning to display these babies on our newly installed kitchen shelves, which I was far too lazy to photograph today. What do you people expect??? I can't shop, and take pictures, AND clean. Priorities, priorities.

I snagged this vintage teapot for $1.99. It's marked Made in Sweden, which probably means it's from Ikea. Still, he is very handsome, no?

Ike picked out a few things for his room, too, like this Red Cross lightbox for $4.99, which is brand spankin' new. The hot gold lion came from Zid Zid, courtesy of Raina; Ike can look, but he can't touch mama's favorite stuffed animal. You can blame Karly for the boa constricted nightmare clown.

You can also blame Karly for spotting this badass giraffe head, a steal for only $4.99. Say what?! Yeah. It's HUGE.

Speaking of huge, these roided out lamps make Lou Ferigno look positively diminutive. I'm planning to give them a fresh coat of white paint from tip to toe, and top them with black shades for my new Bauhaus bedroom. Hopefully my nightstands won't buckle beneath them.

I scored some other sweet stuff, like a giant vintage painting and a ginormous mirrored picture frame (apparently I have contracted a severe case of megalomania), but I haven't found a home for them yet -- by which I mean they're still stacked in the entryway. The Hunny is not excited that I'm back to shopping, not that I'm going to let it stop me from adding to the piles of unused lamps, chairs and frames I'm "collecting."

Doesn't he realize that I have six months of thrifting to catch up on?