Down in the Treme

Yes, Karly and I are headed to The Big Easy to attend my best friend's wedding... wait, was that a movie? Anyway, the blog is going to be out of commission for the rest of the week, but more importantly I'd like to know what we MUST do in New Orleans -- besides drink. The last time I went to New Orleans was in paleolithic times, so I know things have changed. But there are still some iconic Louisiany things to do on the list. #1 is eat gumbo (and drink Abita).

OH MY GOD. Like manna from heaven (amazing recipe here).

So, I need to eat. A lot. And drink. A lot. Also, I would like to buy (affordable) things. Please help me to benefit the fine economy of New Orleans by purchasing vintage lighting and fantastic art. Thank you for your support. I like cemeteries and music, too.

No really. That's my post. It's pretty much your post.

Can you tell me where to go?

Thanks. I love you long time.

Stairway to Heaven

While my post title may hint at some sublime -- nay, ecstatic -- state of being, I am most assuredly located squarely in the seventh level of hell, a level reserved for poor souls unfortunate enough to buy and sell a home at the same time. Our bank account is hemmorrhaging faster than a hemophiliac at an acupuncturist, and coping with little sleep and loads of msg laden takeout for the last few weeks has left me with a (hopefully impermanent) visage that can only be labeled as cryptkeeper chic.

Let's talk about stairs.

So, fresh paint is up at New House and it's looking jazzy, but the decorating dominoes have begun their inexorable tumble towards complete and total overhaul. Now, please. Ok, not everything can happen now, but the glossy barf oak stairs are particularly offensive, and that must be dealt with. Paint is the solution to every crisis, yes?

This is my dreamboat banister. White balusters, black rails and black... end thingy. I know it has a name? Bueller? Bueller?

Look how much better things can be! I think the mocha stain looks rich with the light floors.

No way am I covering up my fancy new treads with a runner (sorry future baby's knees), but I like everything else about this.

Painting everything black would probably make my life easier, right?

Ok, so my question for you is: how hard is this going to be on a scale of 1 to mf nightmare? Pretty close to the bad side, right? Do I have to sand all that crap?????

Should I paint the balusters white and the rail and end post black? Stain rail and endpost dark? Paint everything charcoal?

Lock myself into a hidey hole and never come out?

[Living Etc, House Beautiful, Centsational Girl, Lonny, Richard Powers]

Robert Couturier is My Homeboy

You know what is even more exciting than paint drama? Yesterday Robert Couturier left a comment on this post. I know I just casually typed that all deadpan like, but my heart is seriously trying to escape from my chest right now. The only thing keeping me in check is the restraining order that will most assuredly be issued against me should I become a little too rowdy whilst proclaiming my undying love for RC. Still, the man is a design god so it's not like I can just pretend that I'm not scrawling "Mrs Robert Couturier" over and over inside my "special" notebook. Here's why:

I am obsessed with his sculptural sensibility. The man understands space and how to create an element of surprise.

He knows how to make tradition fresh and livable.

He mixes and matches eras effortlessly.

Rest assured I am taking notes for my own suburban English mini mansion (all 2350 sq ft of it) -- how to strike the balance between overdone and underwhelming?

I think an aubergine sofa may be in order.

Thank you, Robert Couturier, for making my day year.

[Architectural Digest]