Choose Your Own Adventure

Quick!  Let's list off some of the things I love:  animal furniture, groovy sculptures, anything gold, pretty pieces of furniture, well organized spaces, animals, animals, animals.  I think that's all. So, what happens when you take all of those things (minus the gold) and roll them into one?  Karly is in heaven

Choose Your Own Adventure cabinet by Misha Kahn

Designed to hold all the goodies strewn about his floor, the CYOA cabinet is what dreams are made of, people.

See how messy life is without it

and now everything is so neatly put away.  Tada.

I Really Love My...

Stuff is expensive. Cool, unique stuff is both hard to find and exceedingly expensive. So it's really no wonder that interior designers have a short list of favorite finds that are either purchased for multiple clients, or -- just maybe -- shuffled from home to home. It must be nice to find that you've got the cherry on top ready and waiting, especially when the sundae already cost a small fortune.

Fornasetti Moro chair, Michael Haverland Architecture

Creepy black angel, Darryl Wilson Design

And it must be even nicer to put that special finishing piece into production, so that every Jane, Sue and Sally, can own a piece of the magic (for a price).

Hot pink lacquer coffee table, Atelier Abigail Ahern

I totally understand the attachment some designers have to their favorite pieces, kind of like a decorating security blanket. I myself have a golden boy named Brian, and even when everything else is shot to hell, Brian makes it all better.

Do you have some special piece that makes every room feel finished, whether it accents a clinically modern room or a chintz blitzed extravaganza? Spill the beans, please. And I will try not to copy you.

How Not To Stage a Home

The recession is in full swing and real estate has taken a plunge, so that means if you want to sell your home, it's gotta look good. And by "good" I mean clean, updated within the context of the neighborhood, and not crazy over personalized. I am not talking perfection, people. So this past weekend when we attended a few open houses, I was a wee bit shocked to encounter this, ahem, diamond in the rough. Cute neighborhood, lovely yard, and acres of square footage, but I knew as soon as we walked through the door and were asked to remove our shoes (so as not to sully the 20 year old carpet) that things were amiss...

Master bedroom.

Not a kid's room.

The only redeeming room in the house was the Big Cat Room. This one's for you, Karly.

Apologies for the crappy phone pictures, but I had to shoot fast for fear of discovery. My only regret is that I didn't get a shot of the Navajo room, but then you may already have had more than you can take. It's probably for the best.

Now, lest you think I'm a heartless asshole who hates pillows and stuffed puppies and crocheted coozies on zombie dolls, I'm really not. What you do on your own time is your business, but don't expect for everyone else to think sleeping under a giant plastic clam shell is chic. Buyers are nigh incapable of seeing past such things -- even me, and I've waded through mounds of rat turds while home shopping and still thought, "hmmmm... this has potential."

Oh, and by the way, this home is priced higher than this one, which is surely proof that the housing market is on wack on crack.