My New Apartment

Whew, it has been a loooong weekend, full of tools and gardening and yet ANOTHER trip to Ikea. Seriously, what is wrong with me? Anyway, apparently my actual life is staging an intervention, so I'm going to attempt to make this blog post short and sweet. Or should I say quick and dirty? How about short and dirty? Awww, yeah. That's me. So, what do you get when you put an photographer responsible for some of the greatest interiors shots ever:

Together with an architect who's got style to spare:

And add a dash of bookmaker husband?

Answer: a droolworthy renovated prewar apartment in New York City that serves as home to photographer Annie Schlecter and bookbinder husband Russel Maret.

Oh, and guess what color they decided to paint the back wall that used to separate two independent studio apartments? That's right -- Yves Klein Blue, which Schlecter identified as KT Color 03.001 Ultramarin Blau paint. Long time readers of DC will remember my obsession with YKB almost a year back, but all you new friends can check out the links here and here.

Now for some reason, NY Mag reported this story but got totally stingy with the pictures, so I put on my internet sleuthing hat and managed to dig up more shots from architect Joe Serrins' site (expect to see a post on his awesome homes later this week...).

Here's another shot of the living room that shows a toned down living space designed to highlight the blue wall/pink couch focal point.

The entryway is papered in gold grasscloth which is a current OBSESSION of mine. I want to paper everything in its textural glitziness.

As I mentioned before, two separate apartments in two separate buildings were merged to form one larger apartment. One of the commenters on the NYMag site said, "This is the desecration a beautiful pre-war apartment. The original architects are rolling in their graves." When will flamers learn that grammatical errors render their silly, baseless insults flaccid? Plus this is a sweet apartment and that asshat is just flat wrong.

I love that the homeowners built the cabinets from plywood and formica, and used blue penny tile and yellow paint to add some kapow zing. Kitchen renovations don't have to cost a fortune, and as an added bonus, no granite was harmed in the making of this space.

These people don't even have stainless appliances... wtf?! Confession: Ok, I have stainless appliances, but if I could afford that red lacquered beauty, she'd have a place of honor in my kitchen. Or maybe a turquoise stove would be more unexpected?

The bathroom continues the Roy Lichtenstein/Piet Mondrian primary palette, and I suddenly have the urge to paint a door -- any door -- canary yellow.

Last but not least, the bedroom -- which I know will be hated by my special super friends because it features the ubiquitous Cole and Son Woods wallpaper, but I have to say I love it. It has just the right amount of layering, pattern, and asymmetry to make it interesting.

So, I just spent months purging color from my house, and then Annie Schlecter comes along and combines pink, red, yellow, blue and orange, with abandon, and it looks GOOD. Le Sigh. I'm tired of renovating and want to move into her house.

Nevertheless, I shall power on with said renovations, and hopefully I can give you all a state of the union address very soon. In the meantime, rest assured that it contains no mention of the "pandemic" swine flu, because I am sick of hearing about that ridiculous fear mongering nonsense. (But don't judge if I just stay right here and nest up a storm in my nice, germ free house for a while, ok?)

Happy flu free Monday!

Trend Alert and Possible Overkill: Peacocks

Last Wednesday's post about sweet little taxidermied feather puppies lead me down a rabbit hole of all things peacock.  It's a really lovely tunnel to get stuck in, don't get me wrong:  The saturated colors of the flightless birdie alone are enough to design an entire house around.  But, well, how long could you live in that house?  How many Kenley-inspired headbands do we have to see before we bid this trend adieu?  There is most definitely a peacock trend happening, but I can't tell if it's just getting started or if we've already seen enough.  What do you think?

Clockwise from top left:

Peacock Dinner Plate from Anthropologie

The Pugs that started it all, originally posted on our blog here

Green Feather Print Lampshade (that is seriously what they are calling this - not, um, peacock lampshade, do you think the word peacock is copywritten or something.  how lame) Anyway, you can buy it from the crazy brits here

Rise and Fall Peacock Pillow from Urban Outfitters

Also from Urban Outfitters (and only $14!!!!!) 30" Peacock Printed Rug

Peacock throw pillow (decidedly more expensive than the rug - recession tip:  buy 2 rugs, sew them together & make a giant pillow) available here

Peacock tights, available all over the damn place, like here, here and here

Claw Money Customized Nike Vandal Hi, buy them here

The world's most impractical place-mat set for real available here

Electric Peacock tee (I love that it's nice and long) available from modcloth

Peacock don't-use-plastic-save-the-earth bottle here

No matter what happens with the peacock trend, I'm pretty sure I'll never get sick of this wallpaper from ferm living

Hanging Peacocks Here

World's Best Peacock Necklace (my name) available from Bona Drag

So, what say you, are you going to order every single thing I posted today, or have you had your fill?

Ikea, I Hate to Love You

I pretty much don't buy new things. Mostly it's because I'm cheap, but when I'm making some pretense at self righteousness (usually when trying to justify the purchase of yet another thrifted chair to the Hunny), I say that I'm saving the earth. Pretty much single handedly. Ok, Karly helps, too. However, we're remodeling our kitchen, and gosh darn it's hard to thrift built in cabinets. Plus we're furnishing/decorating a nursery, and used sheets and rugs for le bebe just won't work for me. This newfound taste for uh, newness, has resulted in THREE trips to Ikea in the past week alone. If you've never been to an Ikea store, just know that a) there is never one conveniently located by your house and b) it takes hours just to navigate the showroom labyrinth.

You see, Ikea's "floorplan" is actually a nefarious plot designed to keep you trapped within the store for the longest possible time without actually causing brain damage. But I can tell you, it comes damn close. So today, I'm going to shower you with all the Ikea knowledge I've gleaned over the past few months of epic trips, in the vain hope that I might spot some goodies for you and prevent Ikea overload should you ever step into the store yourself. Even so, it might be best to tie a rope to your car, all Poltergeist style. Just in case.

First of all, what in the world have I bought there? Well, this corner of our nursery (yes, there is a bed in our nursery, but don't worry -- there's a crib, too) features a Ludde sheepskin on the rocker ($49.95), the Stockholm nubby throw ($29.99), a pair of black Jorun pillows ($14.99 ea), and linen Aina curtains ($49.99 for 2). Sorry, Le Tigre is not available at Ikea. I have to say that of all these items, I think the curtains are a steal. They're linen, 8 ft tall with rod pockets in the back and faux pinch pleats in the front. Good deal.

Additionally, I've bought a bazillion dollars worth of kitchen stuff there, including Abstrakt white cabinets and Nexus brown black cabinets. (You can read all about my obsession with both in this post.) I've been shopping for some kitchen accessories to go with, and I think these Asker egg shaped cups on rails are pretty swift. They also look nice in this cute office, which is sadly marred by that creepy "Hello." Link via Apartment Therapy.

And, of course, I love my giant wicker beehive light ($89.99 for the biggun) that hangs in our dining room, which currently looks nothing like this. At all.

In addition to all these purchases, my pinched pocketbook lusts after -- but will probably not buy -- the following items:

Blob lights! Ok, I might actually buy a pair of these bad boys because THE HUNNY LIKES THEM. This does not happen. Ever. Ikea Jonisk, $49.99. Awesome proportions -- it's big.

I would also lurve to have an entirely new patio set... alas, I am broke. But if you're shopping for a giant umbrella, Ikea has some super fantastic ones. This cantilevered badass is HUGE. Ikea Karlso, $129.00 for 10 feet of shade.

Ikea also rolled out these new deck chairs for the summer season. Brommo has all the elements of a classic: clean lines, decent construction, and it's comfy. Plus you gotta love a good rope chair. $59.99.

You could always imitate the effervescent Ione Skye and buy these lounge chairs for your outdoor wonderland. Karl Skrona is kinda pricey at $169, but if it's good enough for ex Mrs. David Netto... (Netto, what were you thinking, anyway? Ione is adorable!)

If you're among the rich and famous and have $129 to burn on ONE chair, the Ange is Salternini sweet. Oh, and Karly and I would each like a set of six while you're at it. Thanks!

Anna from Door Sixteen has the Karlstad couch, and I have to say that sucker is super comfortable! Another friend has the same sofa in a sectional configuration, and I am sorely tempted to sell my leather sofas and buy one, too. It's that squishy good. Do yourself a favor and buy the best fabric they have. $599 for gray wool flannel.

One of Ikea's greatest strengths is probably their textiles; the rugs in particular are priced well considering the materials and patterns. Clockwise from top left: 1) Admete, two sided cotton runner, $19. 2) Flatweave Jorun, two sided wool, $179. 3) Tarnby, braided jute $99 (much nicer in person -- very thick). 4) Stockholm, wool, $229.

They had some pretty cute new duvet covers when I was there, too. Love this one in a child's room, styled by Creature Comforts. Unni Slinga, $19.99 for duvet cover and two pillowcases.

Ikea's other greatest strength is its straight up cheapness when it comes to the basics:

Remember my last post about Blobs where I waxed hateful on Damien Hirst and how damn much money he makes for "designing" things like the light configuration in this home? Well, eight Ikea lights later and you've got your very own Damien Hirst design. Left: Lillholmen, $9.99. Right: Fado, $29.99. Boo ya!

So, in closing, I would like to summarize all the things I like about Ikea: 1) It's cheap. 2) Sometimes it's cool. 3) They have great customer service, as in they will take ANYTHING back. Are you listening muthereffing Target? I'm also in love with tiny Bob, the kitchen designer at the Austin store, and Kumar, the most excellent customer service dude, ever. 4) They have this new deal where using your debit card nets you a 3% credit on your next trip. Yay! Free money! 5) They only have reusable bags -- no disposable plastic nasties. 7) "Ice cream" cones. 6) Occasionally they give their products very funny names, like this corkscrew:

But it's not all sweet smelling rosy stuff. There are things I hate about Ikea, too. 1) It's far away. 2) It's really far away. 3) The zombies:

If you've ever been to a brick and mortar Ikea store, then you know eactly what I'm talking about.