Resolving to Tear. It. Up.

I'm not big on New Year's Resolutions.  Seriously, I have enough guilt already, I don't need to make myself feel even worse by failing to cease one of my (really not that bad) vices.  Besides, when was the last time you ran into someone in August who looked all crazy fit and they said "yeah, it was my New Year's resolution to stop drinking, eat healthy, and go to the gym"?  Don't lie, it was never.

I do think, however, that the New Year is a grand time to look back on the last year to consider what you've accomplished and compare that to what you'd like to achieve.  This is where the drinking comes in.  Once you've nursed your hangover it's time to get crackin.  I have lots of goals delusions of grandure both personal and professional for 2009 but I also have a ridiculous list of crap I need to take care of around the house.  Mainly, some big, expensive, overly-involved renovations.  I swear on all things holy, I will not let 2010 peak it's ugly head around the corner until my guest bathroom is completely gutted and looks a little more like one of these rooms:

Because I'm working with a laughable budget and Matt is a genius with concrete, I'm guessing there's going to be a lot of this going on.  Minus the lame bench and utterly useless mini-counter.

Overt your eyes from the vassal sinks and focus on the counter, tub and poufy things.  See, concrete, not so bad. 

But then again, I do love the idea of a concrete floor and tub juxtaposed against a wooden counter:

Murdock Young

Don't give me none of your "where do you put your junk" jive talk.  Here are some solutions:

Living Etc

Nothing makes my heart race like neatly folded, matching linens.  Sigh. Of course, one day I'm going to have a gaggle of kids running hay-wire around this joint so I may need something a bit more practical:

Nice.  But in dream fantasy land, this Nakashima style counter would be the crown jewel of my bath:

I know, I know, why bother even showing another bathroom after this, it's potty perfection.  But we'll move on none-the-less:

Living Etc

Lemme tell you,  I really don't like chandeliers in bathrooms.  And don't try to sell me on those new-fangled chandelier shower heads either, they're even worse.  It's like, I'm trying to relax and take a bath then BAMB!  I'm assaulted with an electrocution fantasy.  You're talking to a girl who shuts the toilet lid when she blow-dries her hair, so, nope, no convincing.

Here are some other things I don't want in my salle de bain:

• Glass or fancy painted vassal sinks.  Or any other vassal sinks.  I'm ok with raised sinks, but no bowls, please.
• Anything not gold.  
• A big deep cabinet, common in rentals.  Hey home builders:  these things are too deep.  All the stuff in the front gets knocked over when we're trying to reach to the back.  A cabinet should be no deeper than a towel folded in quarters (the only way to fold a towel, right?)
• pedestal sinks.  pretty, yes, functional, no.

Here is what I do like:

point click home

God give me the strength not to knock down all the walls in my home in order to achieve this look.  Breathtaking.  And, well, are we sure the kids will need cabinet doors?

Since I don't have the stunning view, a wall treatment link this should do the trick:

I'm going to pass on the clock and the embroidered "sanctuary" towels.  Gross.

A big, bold shower curtain should liven up the joint, too:

via decorology

While I'm not a fan of the country-cute, I'm not too mad at the idea of patch-work.  What I really love about this curtain is the scale.  I want mine to reach all the way to the top of my 10-foot ceiling.  Lika-so:

Ok, you got me:  it's not a bathroom, but that is EXACTLY what I want my shower curtain to look like.

And it shall surround this tub:

Gruppo Treesse

I love how the legs look all robot-y.  Ok, ok, we're scratching everything and moving in a new direction:  Gold Transformers!  I want everything to look like a giant pixelated transformer dipped in gold.  Where are my smelling salts??!!

Philippe Starck via Desire to Inspire

If I can't wrangle a bunch of shiny robot toiletries, this Starck tub should fill the void.

Or, I could just scrap the tup altogether:

Left: Murdock Young; Right: Sorry dude, I can't remember where I found this.

Ok, so there's a tub on the left, but that oval glass shower is clearly the star.  And yes, I know, I know, kids need a tub.  What's with those babies, why can't they just shower like normal people?  And get jobs?

When I was in Virginia in October, my mom and I went to go pick out faucets for her renovation project. Surprisingly, she didn't choose any of my selections:

Note:  that dolphin comes in gold.

Who says no to a gilded dragon head faucet?  A crazy mother with "professional architects" that's who.  Whateves ma, you're going to be crying a river of tears when we have the renovation face-off.

And finally, just so you can get a firm grip on what I'm up against, here's the dreaded bathroom as it stands today:

See, it's going to be great, so long as we get rid of every. single. thing. in there.

There you have it, 2009 goal numero uno.   Of course, if I were going to make a real-life, honest-to-gosh resolution, it would surly be one that all of you would appreciate:  I would work on my spelling.  But, hey, I've managed 30 years without knowing the difference between sense and since, what's one more?   

Our Horrid Room: A Design Confession

For the last six months I have been boldly waving the banner of good design across your computer monitors as though I were sent down from the very heavens with a design vision gifted by God himself.  Turns out that my horse just isn't so high and my ivory tower is a really really dingy shade of beige.  Since moving into our new pad in May, our bedroom decor has fallen somewhere on the design scale between squatter chic and dorm room contemporary.  We do have heat, but we are missing the sweet black-light posters, so I'd classify our joint as single dude minimalism.  The tides are turning and it's time for a revamp.  Don't you guys want to give me your advice and opinions?  Of course you do.   You may want to squint or grab a nearby blanket, this is scarier than freddy kruger wrapped in a poltergeist:

Alright.  There it is.  Ok, the hardest part is over.  Now, let's dissect:  Yes, that is my brand new, and oh-so-comfortable, king-sized mattress on the floor. Note the distinguished layer of plastic surrounding it underneath and on all four sides as to keep the mattress clean.  How about those sexy ceiling fans?  I'll sleep with one eye open because I know you all would just kill to have them for yourself.  (yuck!)  And, yes, those are freshly painted paint samples on the wall.  Let's take a gander at the floor plan so you can get a better grasp of the task at hand:

You can see that the room is HUGE.  The longest wall is 20 feet, the width is 18.  The ceilings vary from 10 feet to 14 feet.  We have a fireplace (with a disastrous tile job), a sliding glass door, and 3 windows.  Here are some close-ups.  (please don't leave me!!)

view from the bathroom door

view from fireplace, closet door: left; bathroom door: right

a second view from the fireplace, left door is entrance from living room

So.  Here's the plan:  EVERYTHING in the room is going.  Except the mattress, which is getting a-real-live-big-girl bed frame (more on that later).  All of the walls are being painted white, with the exception of the fireplace wall, it's going to be black.  Sanders helped first hand with the colors, so I'm feeling really solid about my choices:

In my room, the simply white is fresh and crisp, the black jack is a perfect, rich, deep black.

While I have a mental image for my room, I haven't found any others online that portray it perfectly, but here are a couple of inspiration rooms:

I love the mixture of solid black and black pattern in this room with the big pop of color on the bed.  I also like how the print on the bedspread mimics the pattern on the wall without matching perfectly.  Oh, and I LOVE that this room is virtually empty other than a sleeping spot.  I will have night stands and a chair or two but NO DRESSERS.

I also like the feel of this room:

Ok, actually, it's the big disco ball in the right corner that rocks my world.  I have designs for a singular gigantic tacky sequined throw pillow that will mimic this sort of trashy-glam look.

Matt is making us a simple white bed frame (sorry, no photo).  It is simple.  It is white.  It is perfect.  Oh, and it doesn't have those shin-destroyers running around the edges.  And it looks like it is hovering 6 inches above ground.  

My headboard will not be this color, but it will be this scale:

Stay tuned for instructions on how to make your own tufted headboard.  Matt will be making us night stands not-unlike the ones in the picture above.

Picture the headboard above in this fabric:

YES!  That is high-gloss white vinyl.  The perfect marriage of tackiness and sophistication.

Do you feel like our room is missing some bling?  Me too.  Let's try this:

My grandmother's mirror, currently residing in my mother's guest bedroom.  le plan is to hang it over the fireplace.  Seriously, don't you all just want to die?

What about fabrics?  Ok, I picked the world's ugliest fabric for my bedspread and I LOVE IT SO MUCH:

Need a close up? You're the boss:

Awww, it's a sweet little castle scene.  Isn't that kinda perfect for me?  And look! Hot pink!  Lime green! Electric blue!  Expect to see those colors popping up in little spots throughout the finished space.

But what about curtains?  Don't worry, dudes, I've got that covered:

I'll be using Thanksgiving break to construct myself 3 roman shades out of this lovely striped fabric. While you're chowing down on Turkey and treating the mall like it's the last place to buy water during Armageddon, remember to pour one out for me as I work my little fingers to the nub on my sewing machine.  If I manage to avoid carpel tunnel, I'll also be making one gigantic white curtain to hang over the sliding glass doors.

Finally, the room is going to need some finishing touches:

I will continue the 6" high baseboards that currently run throughout the house and will be mounting all of the doors on barn door tracks.  (The ones I have look a little different, but you get the picture).  Oh, and all the doors will be painted black.

That's the plan so far.  I still have a big-fat dead space over by the room entrance, just below the big window as that couch is hitting the road.  I want to put a small sitting area near the fireplace, so it seems strange to have a second sitting area there.  Any suggestions?

Some other things I'm still wrestling with:  bed-side lighting.  Hanging lamps or wall mounted?  Don't say table!!!  I also need to pick out an area rug, but I want to get everything in the room first.

So, that's that.  Give the gift of joy and hope this holiday season:  I would LOVE some input and ideas before cracking open the first can of paint.

Everybody's Working For the Weekend

I'm totally jazzed, brimming with a new found sense of hope and purpose, so I've been cleaning and rearranging furniture like a crazy lady and -- oh, talented readers -- I find that I need your help once again. Yes, you did such an AMAZING job commenting on my dining room woes that I thought I'd enlist your help with an even more dangerous mission, one fraught with peril and certain death at every twist and turn. Ok, just kidding about the death thing. But seriously, I have been putting off redoing the kitchen for nearly a year and a half because I want to make sure I get it right. Do you think you can help me? Great! Let's get to work!

Here's a panorama of the dining/kitchen area. If you click on the link, you can look at it in a more useful size:

Hopefully it's pretty apparent how this wonky house is put together, but basically, the two red window walls face each other. There are lots of beams everwhere, and 500,000 cabinets. Yes, that many.

Note the gigantic pantry with hideous dental molding. And there are even more drawers behind the refrigerator... So, anyway, the problem is that there might be too many cabinets. At eye level. Which would be swell if they were on a wall, but they're not. They're floating over the bar like a levitating forest.

This is the view to the living room if I duck my head down six inches, and I'm only five foot one. Poor Karly and Hunny Bunny practically have to get onto their knees if they want to see into the living room.

Here I am with my chin on the counter, calling over the Great Divide. I feel like I'm at a peep show.

So, I don't really like all those cabinets getting up in my face, calling me short and telling me what a messy cook I am. Oh, and wait until you see what they look like on the other side.

That's as good as they're ever going to look. I got sick of looking at the acres of wood grain, so I hung some Ikea fabric over the built in shelves (read: crap repository) and lined the glass shelves with the same fabric. Half that junk is getting sold in our upcoming garage sale extravaganza, and I am truly loathe to buy stuff just to fill a dead space. Speaking of dead spaces, how about the end of the bar? This is the first time that side of the formica sea has seen the light of day in quite a while. Usually it's just a landing pad for junk mail and keys. Also, what good is a GINORMOUS bar if you can't sit at it? If you tried to sit here and eat, your nose would touch glass. So, if I rip the cabinets out, we can take the undermounted shelves out (which go back a ways) and carve out space for an eat in bar. Easy huh?

No. There's another problem. The Beam:

The one that goes all the way down to the bar (carefully crapoflaged by wine bottles) is load bearing, so it has to stay. Yep. The janky one at the end of the bar that goes to the ceiling is just to keep the cabinets from collapsing under their own fat ass wood weight. I've really got to stop feeding them so much! Anyway, if I rip the cabinets out, will The Beam look weird, just floating there?

And what do I do about the wall space?

This is the window wall with potentially salvageable cabinets. The ugly corner could be fixed by using some surplus doors... but do I really want to do that?

Because I can't save the cabinets over the stove (and Santa better be bringing me a new stove because this one is a health hazard). They don't end at the wall, so there's really no graceful way to keep any cabinets but the pair that flank either side of the window.

I was thinking I'd rip out all the uppers anyway, and do some kind of shelving. My plan was to keep the lower cabinets oak, re-oil them and get some new hardware, buy matching oak shelving for the wall space, and maybe throw in a few stainless rails here and there for spices and whatnot. But I have to have something to mount my hood underneath (no, I cannot afford a freestanding hood).

Down to the brass tacks: My budget is $1000. I know many of you will think it can't be done, but it has to be. I'm keeping the formica for now. (Even though I want soapstone, I have 75 square feet of countertops, so it's gonna be formica for a while.) I'm not buying new cabinets, but I could paint them if everyone thinks they're truly hideous. I'm getting a new range and dishwasher in stainless, and they won't be included in the budget. But I need a new faucet, shelves, hood and labor, which will be provided by Hunny Bunny and Karly's hubby (for a fee).

So, what do you think? Should I rip everything out? Should I paint, or leave the cabinets natural? What kind of hardware would you recommend? What kind of shelving and where should it go? Am I crazy for even thinking about this because it's going to destroy the resale value?

Here are some kitchen images for inspiration (and also just for pornographic purposes):

Fellow Austinite Alyson Fox's newly renovated kitchen featured at Design Sponge is a definite source of inspiration. She even has some similar Beam issues:

Habitually Chic did a post on open shelving and featured these kitchens:

Here's a lovely open bar and no upper cabinets seen at If The Lampshade Fits (in another drool worthy kitchen post!)

Some lovely and simple pictures via Domino:

I found this one at Door Sixteen, in a great post on unfussy kitchens (and you can also see Anna's own kitchen renovation over there):

So that's it for the roundup. I hope each any every one of you is formulating a master plan to save my kitchen from its hulking wooditude!

Whew! I'm tired from all this what iffing. But tune in next week for an interview with my Benjamin Moore paint buddy, Sanders, and all his colorful wisdom. Won't it be nice to have someone give information -- instead of me taking it  -- for a change?

But I really appreciate all your commenting love, so thanks in advance!