Yves Klein Blue

Well, friends, today's post comes to you from the depths of Ye Olde Texarkana, located at -- you guessed it -- the funky junction of Texas, Arkansas and Louisisana. To put it mildly, my computer here is a little wonky (AOL???! why not just hook a bicycle up to the computer and pedal to power it like crazy Ed Begley Jr.?), but bear with me for a two-part series on the crazy adventures of Yves Klein and the electric blue zeitgeist that's sweeping the decornation.

When I was in art school, Yves Klein was something of a mystery to me. A conceptualist in the 50's and 60's, a lot of what he did was just paint stuff --any stuff -- blue, but not just any blue; he patented his own lapis lazuli shade which he titled IYKB (International Yves Klein Blue).

(photos courtesy of the Yves Klein Archives).

Yves loved him some naked ladies, which he employed as paint brushes that wielded his Klein Blue paint during performances where Anthropometries, or visual measurements of the human body, were created.  And so the human paintbrush trend was born...

But he wasn't above stealing readymade forms, like a copy of the torso of Venus or a common globe, and coating them with blue paint, much like Karly covers everything in gold paint. I suppose International Yves Klein Blue has a continental ring to it that International Erin Williamson Puce doesn't really have, but I'm starting to think I should have gotten wise to the whole "just paint stuff" movement a lot sooner.

Yves died in 1962 of a heart attack -- dude was only 34! -- but a lot of his works have been in heavy rotation for the last couple of years. Check out that very same bust of Venus in a contemporary posh pad decorated by Brown and Davis:

Blue and yellow are back together again, for the very first time...

And here's the now familiar globe at the Hotel Verhaegen in Belgium:

In this room, that globe looks like it landed from an alien planet and I LIKE it. I also like the idea of staying at a hotel where an incredibly expensive piece of art is just sitting on the coffee table, waiting for me to stash it in my slightly oversized purse.

The most attainable and decorative of Klein's works are the infamous lucite coffee tables that have been popping up everywhere:

Design superduo Yabu and Pushelberg are practically cooing over their Klein table, which I must say, makes a major statement in their largely monochromatic apartment.

And according to Habitually Chic's website, designer David Netto says "You're not living until you have an Yves Klein cofffee table."  I guess I'll keep that in mind, that is if I have a mind, because I must be dead. Oh, and just in case I'm not already sleeping with the fishes, the rest of David Netto's art collection makes me want to choke it's so amazing.

But not quite as amazing as Marianne Boesky's collection, which features a pink Klein table. Surprised you with that one, didn't I? Extra credit if you remembered from an earlier post that he made gold tables, too.

I love the bizarre pop of color these tables give to conservative spaces, and I would KILL someone for those hooded head prints. This may be one of my favorite apartments. Ever.

Back to blue. Focus! So, I can't afford one of the only 300 tables in each color that were made. But I was thinking of buying one of these and working it over:

The OG table on top, lefty is from Eurway and righty is from Ikea. It would be so easy to paint the tops of either table and have a piece of plexi cut to cover the top, just to protect the finish and add some extra shine.

So move over gold, there's a new color to just paint stuff: Klein Blue, aka, Pantone 72C Pantone 286 mixed with Reflex Blue. Thanks, Anna at Door Sixteen, for alerting me to my faulty color match!

People, I am busy. I am literally (seriously) going fishing tomorrow, and I have buckets of fried okra to eat after that, but I'll be back for Thursday's sure to be poorly written AWESOME post, where I shall overload you with pretty pictures of Klein Blue interiors. Because I heart you.

Weekend Bonus For Raina

Because Nothing Says Mid-Century Modern like prosthetics:

Eames inspired Prosthetic Leg.  The suit with shorts and sock-free loafers just scream Charles and Ray.  Pray tell:  is that really the best chair they could find for the photoshoot?  If you need to see more:

I have never once thought to make a mood board for anything, does that make me a bad person?  My favorite part of this board are the images of Steve McQueen:  above them it reads "for our persona, we chose Steve Mcqueen, the King of Cool..." (ellipses theirs)  Because nothing says mid-century modern like Steve McQueen.  Where was the McQueen inspiration when they dressed that model?  Look I really appreciate the idea of bringing good design to prosthetics, I even think Eames is a great inspiration, but just because they used dark bent-wood does not mean that they hit the mark.  They didn't.   Another thing that says mid-century modern:  tattoos:

Or more tattoos from AN ENTIRELY DIFFERENT TATTOO ARTIST:

I was thinking of having the entire sears catalog line from 1924 tattooed on the back of my arm, but that's just me.

Prosthetics By Joanna Hawley

First set of tattoos by Nick Baxter

Second Set by Butter Fat Studios

It's Elementary

Although the temperatures in Austin are still hovering in the triple digits, the first day of school is just around the corner. For those of us who can say, "no more teachers, no more books...," school days always bring with them a whiff of nostalgia as well as a masochistic desire to relive the bad old days. Like that time I got asked to my first sleepover where we watched Dirty Dancing, and then the popular bitches waited until I fell asleep and poured warm water in my sleeping bag and woke me up to tell me I peed myself. And laugh. Cliche, but true, and frankly some of the "quirkier" stories are just too damn depressing for morning reading.

Yes, after puberty school becomes a minefield of unbridled hormones and misunderstood emotions. And so, dear readers, I present a day of letters and numbers, and hopefully a return to simpler times.

Yasmine at A Print a Day's whimsical fonts (fashioned of stitchery and hair!) recall the apple for teacher days more than that time a dozen students from the opposing high school brought pistols and shotguns and hosted a full-on riot in our quad. Just like a movie! (via Exquisite Function)

A selection of pillows reminiscent of practicing handwriting on a Big Chief tablet. Can I still write without a computer...?

Clockwise from top left: Alexander Girard's OG design from way back in 1952 is back in production and available at Wrapables, some numerology from Urban Outfitters, a brown (?!!!) pillow from Dwell's baby line at Design Public, Alphabet pillow by Sukie at Three Potato Four.

Badass photogram of tiny objects arranged to compose the letters of the alphabet. C is for "Chain" and R is for "Rope." So much easier than C is for "Chitinous exoskeleton" and R is for "Remember that time you got dumped on the journalism trip by your first love? And then he started going out with that skanky ugly girl? On the SAME TRIP?"

Award-winning poster print by Dutch Osborne available from Spring Design. (via Elle Deco SA)

If you've ever had to eat your words -- like pretty much every time I ever said anything the entire time I went to high school -- then you'll appreciate this dinnerware:

Alphabet pot by Ayumi Horie at Reform School, subliminal plate set at CB2.

A pair of inspired selections in some of Karly's favorite colors:

On the left, Numbers Rug at Urban Outfitters. On the right, Uppercase Scarf at Little Factory that could have solved my first day of school fashion dilemmas. Instead I showed up in purple hair, black tights, orange wool tartan skirt, black sweater and Doc Martens. In August. In Texas. In Texarkana. In 1991. I had a lot of friends. Sike! (only about the friends part)

Pillows and totes made of recycled sailcloth by Reiter8. Kind of reminds me of some of the early DIY projects Sassy used to have, which my only friend and I would try (but usually fail) to complete. It's hard to finish things when you get sidetracked by your hormones. So instead of following Sassy's plans for a hideous skirt made from used ties, we stay up and smoke about 500 clove cigarettes and talk about THAT GUY, who, in an excruciating twist of fate, WE BOTH LIKE.

Oh, Magic 8 Ball of my future self's memory, I wish I had you in the past.

Because I'm feeling a little wound up now, a cleansing mental vacation from the evils of the unknown self:

Image from Living, Etc., via Elements of Style. Me want those pillows!!!

Well, friends, I am off to Texarkana next week, where I'll be visiting with my little sister before driving her up to Arkansas for her first year of college away from home -- hence the trip down memory lane. I'll still be posting, but my internet access will be somewhat limited.

In the meantime, I'm wondering if you, my happy-well-adjusted-grown-up friends, have any grand tales to tell of your school daze? Were you Pretty in Pink, Better Off Dead, or Dazed and Confused?