We Are a Part of the Patchwork Nation

Patchhhhhhhhwwwwworrrrrrk! Say it for the people! Say it for the children! Do you think Obama's entire inaugural address could be set to the tune of Rhythm Nation? It's undoubtedly best not to find out, but what a speech! It was especially nice to have a president acknowledge what every American already knows: hey, we're all different, and that's a good thing. So put away the one size fits all rhetoric of the past, and enjoy the pretty fruits of our collective, cobbled together heritage, design style.

Photo via Innumerable Goods

Patchwork quilts and pillows have long held the symbolic weight of history -- a scrap of grandpa's shirt here, a square of baby's first blanket there, and in time a singular piece of fabric weaves together the stories of generations. Perhaps the zeitgeist of changing history is sweeping through the land, because patchwork is EVERYWHERE, but this ain't your grandma's country quilt.

Nosireeebob, patchwork can be modern, even mod. Arne Jacobsen's seminal Egg Chair, reconfigured by artist Tal R, is bright, bold, and one of kind -- awww, just like us. Look! There's even a stars and stripes model. And that actually makes me... proud.

Patchwork goes haute in this gorgeous living room featured on Desire to Inspire. I will take the entire room, please, but the space would be bland city without the sofa, which looks like it was produced by Squint Limited, makers and purveyors of all things bright and patchy:

Can you even imagine all the labor that must have gone into the tufting on that headboard?! And I enjoy peeking into their studio in the background... I would love to rifle through their stacks and stacks of fabric scraps. But for me, the real prize is that kissing bench. Momma like.

This headboard featured in Living Etc is a little more DIY friendly, but still patchylicious. I love the tiny red buttons hidden in the tufts, like secret surprises only sleepers can see.

For some global flava, these patchwork couches made of treasured Turkish tapestries by Bojka are singularly spicy and delicious. Found on super blog, Double Takes.

Ok, this patchwork beanbag couch by Bertjan Pot is kind of like something my grandma used to have, but it's so much more squishy and inviting than grandma's hard, lumpy, bumpy seating. I envision a sleepover party with pillow fights and popcorn, but don't eff up my rad duct tape rug, you messy beasts.

We can't let fabric have all the fun. Welcome to the patchwork party, crazy case goods by Boca do Lobo (designers with a cute wolf logo). This inspires me to paint all the drawers in my buffet table different colors, although I think I might fail to capture the full range of awesomeness without some mad carpentry skillz.

Speaking of mad carpentry skillz:

I'm sure fitting all those tiny pieces of wood waste and off-cuts together into something -- anything -- was challenging. Making an actual load bearing chair out of scrap is pretty damn impressive. Good job, Amy Hunting!

Meanwhile, I have a minor obsession with vintage patchwork goodies, but not quilts...

I'm a woozy floozy for pretty much anything in Paul Evan's Cityscape series. Super shiny patchwork metal casing + ultra square lines = unmitigated lust on my part. Meow. Both pieces available at 1st Dibs if you got the money, honey.

Yes, the times they are a changing. So why don't we all sit down over some tea to talk about it? This Tea For Two set by Vika Mitrichenka is sure to get the conversation flowing. How about, you say "Toe May Toe" and I say "If you break my fancy tea set, this happy fun time tea party is over, pronto." Oh, alright. I say "Toe Mah Toe." Because, thanks to Obama I'm feeling warm and fuzzy like that.

Globamarama

Oh, it's a beautiful day, filled with glitter and puppies and warm apple pie with sparkly sprinkles on top!

At Obama's inauguration, I expect there will be unicorns and rainbows, with pink cheeked babies and parades of fairy princesses. (If you're a boy, I guess there will be... trucks? Sports? What DO men like, anyway?) Unisex fireworks will light the sky and the grime of dark ages shall be swept away by the glow of a truthy new Renaissance (insert angel's trumpets here).

So in honor of this special day, I am passing on pedestrian red, white and blue, and instead I am going straight for da dazzle. Only happy objects shall grace these pages, only glowing bastions of brightness. But I'm omitting already obvious lamps and chandeliers, for the aura and glow of better days to come must be shared by all.

Stuart Haygarth's Aladdin Table is designed to act as a museum showcase for precious, sentimental objects. Let's say we stuff this sucker full of a better economy, peace in the Middle East, and a brighter, more purple future for our children.

Have a seat around this Illuminating Coffee Table and develop your plans for a new world order. Item one on the manifesto: There must be more hot pink. Everywhere.

If you're feeling a little lost in transition, perhaps these Top of the Iceberg lights by Birgit Ostergaard can help you find your way through the darkness. They might also remind you that after Obama conquers the economy, war, education and healthcare, he probably should deal with that dastardly global warming.

In the new world, no one shall go hungry, and this thousand-points-of-light table by Refined Sugar Studio will help to remind you that you are fortunate to have oh so many choices for foodstuffs: you could eat meat, eat fat, or even eat me. I am really hoping the Eat Me option is meant to evoke the slang, and not meant in a Soilent Green kind of way. That is not a vision of the future I want to embrace.

Of course, you could configure your own destiny with this Lite Brite Table. So turn on the magical shining light and make a steamboat, a chicken, a tropical fish -- a lemonade sign or whatever you wish! Aren't you loving the shape of things to come?

In this new shining era, everything will require you to wear your sunglasses at night, so you can -- so you can -- see the light that's right before your eyes.

See what I mean? She's obviously blinded by the light, hence the outfit. In her defense, Lee Broom's manipulated furnishings are pretty effing cool despite possessing potentially damaging effects to one's retinas.

On the other hand, a little extra illumination never hurt anyone. Unless you enjoy wearing clown makeup.

I'm suddenly considering getting crafty with my Chesterfield couch... This just looks so darn comfortable!

Oh, weird circus Thonet, you light up my life.

This is where I would sit and consider the first day of the rest of your lives... ooops! I mean, that's where Obama would sit.

After a long hard day of plotting, planning and designing, take a break and hang your hat on these groovy glowing coat racks by Yonoh Design. Enjoy the lovely, wholesome glow of sunny days that are sweeping the clouds away... Yes, friends, we are on our way to where the air is sweet!

But, can you tell me how to get a ride to the inauguration street?

Weight Watchers

It's the New Year and resolutions are rolling in. Most everyone has decided to start a new diet and exercise program (myself included), which is not surprising considering all of the confusing signals the media sends us. Don't you love seeing rail thin celebrities juxtaposed against muffin tops and love handles on magazine covers? Meanwhile, the TV is coercing you to stop by Pizza Hut for a Super Colossal Meat Meltdown on your way back from a vain attempt to squeeze yourself into those 00 skinny jeans. And so the bottom line is that we're all really HUNGRY, but none of us want to look like this:

And all of us want to look like this:

On the top you've got Charlotte Kingsnorth's award-winning One chair, modeled after the stunningly fleshy paintings of Saatchi favorite Jenny Saville, while on the bottom you have an extremely attenuated Thonet chair, modified by Martino Gamper for the Conran Shop. True -- one may be more elegant. But the other looks a hell of a lot more comfortable. Nothing wrong with a little extra padding, right?

Alas, it seems the fashion industry has other plans for our bodies. Must we starve our forms into utter weightlessness? Pablo Reinoso seems to think so, as evinced by his Pret-A-Thonet series, also seen in Karly's post here.

With his all too innocently titled Summerhouse, Reinoso sells skinny by seducing us with the ethereal quality of long limbs so painfully thin they function like pliable spaghetti. Mmmm.... thinking about spaghetti makes me hungry.

Those who resist the temptation to assuage their hunger pangs with dubiously nutritious pasta, chocolate Ho Ho's and delectable french toast, may be rewarded with less heft, but at what cost, I say? Starvation leads to brittle bones and an unhealthy physique. For proof, see the Missing Chairs above, designed by Nobody&co.

Obviously, improper nutrition will turn you into a wimp who buckles under the slightest pressure. Even their creator, Ante Vojnovic, imagines these statement-making skinny minnies to be "non-functional." I don't know about you, but I have to work. And walk. And be functional and stuff.

And let's not forget there's a dark side to dieting: all that extra skin has gotta go somewhere. Reinoso shows that with no fatty flesh underneath to buoy it up, scrawny skin is likely to sag south.

Shall we then head the opposite direction and stuff ourselves silly, bloating our bodies to maximum capacity?

That approach seems a smidge problematic, as well. To wit, this classic Eames Chair reworked by Mark Wentzel -- once perfectly proportioned with ass room to spare -- might want to lay off the Cheetos. Otherwise it could forever remain an XLounge.

What to do, then? Diet, exercise, binge, purge, starve?

Anxiety only makes it worse, so don't tie yourself in a pretzel-shaped knot worrying about it, like this Thonet chair. Yum, I love hot, squishy, salty pretzels with mustard on top...

It seems that the only possible hope for health lies in balance.

This example from Gamper Martino's 100 Chairs in 100 Days series serves as a lesson: there will always be a skinny bitch wrestling a, uh... somewhat less skinny bitch inside us all. All that wrestling may involve mud chocolate pudding and bikinis. It could get ugly, but don't despair.

Frank Willems reminds us with his Madam Rubens Collection that not everyone has the same definition of beauty. It's all subjective, yo. So if we're all feeling a touch Rubenesque ourselves from the holiday cakes and pies and scrumptious cookies (and mashed potatoes and casserole and stuffing [it can't be good for you if it's called STUFFING, right?!]), well, give yourself a break. A little extra sqush adds to da swish, and a pair of shapely legs never hurt anyone.