Something Old, Something New . . .

From Argosy. Thanks.

Decorating your home is a lot like getting hitched. There's the initial excitement:

Your honey: "I met 'the one.'"
Your home(y): "It's the best apartment EVER."

There's the first conflict:

Your sweetie's face: "Why are you so stubborn? What the $%@#!"
Your sweet space: "They painted over wallpaper? What the $%@#!"

There's agonizing over perceived flaws:

Your lady/lad: "I wish they were taller."
Your chic pad: "I wish this sofa was longer."

And finally, you accept what you cannot change and you optimistically commit, swearing off novelty and excitement for the infinitesimally tiny chance at happiness:

Your marriage: "Until death do us part"
Your mortgage: "Until we sell or 30 years pass (or the sweet embrace of death claims us), whichever comes first."

So if you want a long and happy relationship with your space, try applying the old wedding tradition to your decorating scheme.

Something Old - A common theme seems to be bubbling up no matter who I talk with - a brand new home with all brand new things feels a little sterile or worse, a little boring. Flat. Buy something vintage, something worn, something a bit beat-up, a family heirloom, a 70's-era end table, a beat-up old occasional chair. You'll be amazed at how it simultaneously blends into the space while adding some interest. The tension creates the interest. Warning - when you see how cool it looks, you may find yourself trolling antique shops on the weekend.

And where are these antique stores? Try Daniels Antiques (in Bucktown), Pavilion Antiques (across the street from Daniels), Scout (Andersonville), Jayson Home & Garden, Revival (Irving and Southport) or a million antique stores in your city. Check out 1st Dibs online (but give yourself a couple of hours). And if you're in Chicago, be sure to check out the Chicago Antique Market on Randolph Street tomorrow and Sunday. I'll be there, so if you see me, say hi.


Vintage French Bistro Table from Figaro Antiques, a shop within the Andersonville Gallerie.

Something New - I'm rethinking my hatred of trends. As I discussed earlier this week, there are some trends/concepts/decorating schemes that I hate in theory but am very attracted to in reality. After touring Beth's apartment for this Thursday's Open House photo tour, I completely changed my thoughts on antlers. I'm in love with zebra prints, I like all the birds everywhere, and I just bought a Chinese stool. So go ahead, use trends to bring a little currency into your design scheme. Try to choose items that you think you'll still like when the craze fades. Then move them around to keep from getting bored.


Z Gallerie


Z Gallerie

Where do I go for groovy accessories? I recommend Jayson (I know you're tired of hearing about Jayson, but I love that store), Mecox Gardens (my heart just started beating faster) or Z Gallerie (sometimes their stuff is so very, very ugly, but damn it if I don't respect their crazy buyer, whoever he or she is. This place is a family-owned chain, and whenever I go, I find myself incredibly interested. Crazy buyer, if you're reading this, can I interview you?). Also try George Lowell, Zella Brown (review coming soon) or just hit the antique stores. All illustrate that even the most current trends are things our parents have seen before (and got tired of).

Something Borrowed. This is an underused but brilliant idea (if I do say so myself) to keep your place fresh without spending a lot of money. It's also "green". Find something you like in your friends space, basement, garage, etc. and ask them to borrow it. Remember Robert's house tour from a few weeks back? He borrowed the art from his artist friend. When he returns it, he'll borrow something else. His place stays fresh and he doesn't have to spend a lot of money. (And remember to return the favor and loan out your favorite stuff to your favorite friends).


Borrowed artwork at Robert's house.

And finally, Something Blue. I love blue, but in the right setting, I love almost every color (yellow not so much. Purple, I don't like purple. Oh, and peach. No peach. I don't like that salmon terra-cotta color either. But other than that . . . ). So, for the sake of making this post work, something blue. For the sake of your real-life apartment, something colorful - a bright pillow, an accent chair, a bunch of flowers - any color. But blue's good.


From Gump's. I bought the one on the left - the zigzag bench. If you think it's ugly, I sort of agree with you, but I also love it.

So that's my Friday post. Have a great weekend. Next week:

• Tuesday Top 10 (End Tables - what's your favorite?)
• Intelligent Design Interview
• Open House Tour - Thursday
• Wicker Park/Bucktown. It's the focus. Store reviews. Photo tours. (I need a fantastic space for an Open House tour in Wicker Park. Who's got one for me to photograph?)
  

I need ideas. Send me yours.
I need new home tours. We both know you know somebody.
I need to identify 10 (10!) cool end tables. Please help.
Your comments make me happy. You are so wise (and yes, I am talking to you.)


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Guest Commentary. . . Spotlight on Monocibec's Mono Tile

Robert Grillo of Robert Grillo Creative (and Strange Closets friend and logo designer), will be doing occasional guest commentary on the world of design. Today, he writes about one of his favorite tile lines, a heavy-duty commercial grade porcelain floor tile from Italian manufacturer, Monocibec's Mono collection (you can find it at Tileworks in Chicago). Instead of using the tile on the floor, Robert used it as his kitchen back splash (you may recognize it from the recent Strange Closets Open House photo tour of his West Andersonville gut rehab.) So, without further adieu, it's over to Robert Grillo:



"For me the Mono tile line is a fascinating play on a primitive-modern dynamic. On the one hand the dot pattern mimics ancient forms of calligraphy, more specifically accounting practices that used a similar dot pattern inscribed in stone tablets. On the other hand, it makes me think of data streams, streams of light or Pacman. I know the last one is a stretch but I do have a vivid imagination. The other cool feature of this tile is that the dots are actually inlaid with some kind of metallic ink or substance, while the surface of the tile itself is matte. What's kind of amazing about this tile is that it looks so different in different light and different settings.

From a distance and when the light shines on it from an angle, the tile in my kitchen looks like corrugated metal. Up close, you can actually see a crackle pattern with brown behind the bluethat is never seen just a few feet away. It resembles the fine crackle you see in Chinese porcelain. These photos were taken directly from Monocibec 's catalog, and I love the 'film noir' style."

Thanks Robert. And if you have ideas about design, please contact me. I'm always looking for contributors to Strange Closets.

Do you need a room with a view?

From the surprisingly good, Renovation Style

With all the new skyscrapers going up in Chicago (and around the world), I started to wonder if city views really matter to people. Apartments in the clouds may offer gorgeous views, but personally, I want a stronger connection with nature and the life of the street. To me, the most homey interiors begin to feel somewhat cold and sterile from 50 flights up. Then again, with enough design bling, a trusty doorman and an on-site spa, I might be willing to call it a day and leave you all to your cake.

What do you think? Do you have a view? Are views important to you? How do they impact how you design your living space?


From Architectural Digest


From Architectural Digest


From the Chicago Spire website

Blogs I Love . . . Decorno (or, Thoughts on Consumption Part 2)

Does the sight of these logos nourish your soul?

"If Decor is your porn, this is your blog," says the smart and witty creator of Decorno, one of my favorite design blogs. Lately, Decorno's been exploring a topic that's I've been thinking about and which has been coming up in conversations with friends - why is consumption so important?

What's worth spending money on and what's not? Decorno loves her shoes; I love furniture - we all want something, but when it so clearly hurts harms our souls and poisons our environment, why do we want everything ?

Am I toiling away in an unsuitable career because it's so important that I drink Starbucks every day? That I drive a fancy car? Or in reality, aren't I drinking the Starbucks in order to help get me through the day, to tolerate the life I live, the job I have in order to afford these things? It's the ultimate self-perpetuating loop



Corporate America has a pretty sweet deal.

- It divides us up into different populations, because you can sell so much more to four distinct people with distinct interests than to a nuclear family that essentially functions as a single unit.

- It convinces us that the car or the house or the coffee or the TV is going to make us happy, so we voluntarily agree to indentured servitude, working long hours at jobs we hate in order to afford these things, which will lead to happiness, right?

- Wrong. We find that things don't actually make us feel any better, but we wonder if we just don't have enough things, so we buy more, create more debt or take on a higher mortgage payment, not understanding that we've just reached through the cell bars, locked the door and tossed the key across the room.



Amazingly, when I started blogging, writing and taking photos, I stopped needing things in the same way. I was filling my soul with something other than things - I was actually creating something (it's not the Sistine Chapel, but it's something).

So I need to take some steps, but I don't know if I'm ready yet. We're all suffering from a kind of Stockholm Syndrome, loving our captors and fearing true freedom.

For more of Decorno's thoughs about the subject, click here or here.
And for some of my thoughts on the recession, click here.
For an interesting Salon magazine article on recession, click here.

What do you think?

Looking Forward to Recession?

Source: Flickr

Growth. The headlines are full of articles about expansion (or the lack of it) in financial markets. Bear Sterns just sold for $2 per share, a shocking drop in value. I can't help but think that everything seems too normal considering what's happening, the relative quiet before real storm.

But I can't think of anything good that keeps expanding (ok, the universe possibly, but if I point that out the sentence doesn't work, so let's move on). Like a cancer, capitalism keeps expanding, at least in "good" times.

The machine needs to expand at all cost and the appropriate market solution with will efficiently correct any maladies that unchecked growth spawned (whether they be environmental, addiction, health, yada yada). This "solution" typically results in a new industry, creating wealth for the already rich, as they clean up the disasters that their old companies created (BP - Beyond Petroleum).

It makes my head spin.

I'm not a communist; I believe in capitalism (I'm not Rand-ian in my belief; to me it's obvious that regulations are a necessary evil to ensure the public welfare), so I instinctively buy into stories about recession and all its detrimental results. I fear the uncertainty, losing the house, not making the car payment, being a failure.

But what if we take a step back. What if a recession, a bad one, does happen? What if your portfolio grinds to a halt and it's worse than our greatest fears? How might the reality of recession compare to the frightening image that has been conjured up by the wizards behind the curtain? How will the truth compare to the image that lives in our collective consciousness? What if the worst possible scenario occurs and we all end . . . happier?

What if people can't afford to drive and walk more? How many friends might one meet by taking the train? How much more freedom would you have if you weren't underneath your mortgage (mine feels so heavy sometimes); if instead you could pick up and change (neighborhoods, cities, even countries) at a moment's notice? What if you had to make your living doing odd jobs? Would you miss life at the office? I've never made better friends than I did waiting tables. Good friends are really valuable. They're the true human capital.

In this world, people will still have disposable income; we'll still consume. We'll still need "stuff" and design junkies will continue to be design junkies once their primary needs are met. What if good thrift stores multiplied as people sought to unload unnecessary furniture to get extra cash at the same time that other people decided they couldn't afford new anymore?

What kind of creative energy might be unleashed by an economy just slightly slower? Where people had to get creative with the kitchen they have instead of gutting it? Where going shopping meant a day in second-hand stores, searching for the right piece . . . or the piece that is almost right and just needs a little work? Finding the right item would become a challenge and we'd appreciate the items we salvage or rejuvenate so much more.

It's beginning to sound like a place I want to live.

When Everything's Cool, How Can You Be? Pt. 2 of 2

White bakelite wall phone recently auctioned on Ebay.

In my last post, I asked the question; when everything's cool, how can you be? How can you differentiate from everybody else when everything is everywhere and thanks to Ikea, even people with no imagination can have a great pad?

The answer of course, it to look beyond today's trends by looking to the past or looking to the future. The supremely creative among us will literally create their own styles, making furniture, creating fabric designs, inventing new design solutions and otherwise expressing their savant-like brilliance. For the rest of us, look to the past.

I was up until nearly 3 a.m. last night, the cold glow of my laptop screen providing the only source of illumination. I was completely enthralled by the digital images in front of me; they seem to have an unnatural hold.

I clicked on one that looks intriguing, and the photo popped up on my screen, larger and more intense. But the profile, even the photo, might be misleading (they always show their best side) so I emailed for clarification.


Butterscotch alarm clock (from Ebay).

This occurs often when I troll around on Ebay searching for anything made out of bakelite, specifically radios and old phones. Bakelite is a predecessor to plastic, but thicker and more substantial. Like porn, it's hard to describe it, but I know it when I see it.


Australia seems to be a font of vintage bakelite radios.

Bakelite's my fetish and one of the ways I inoculate my apartment against Pottery Barn conformity. Sometimes they'll attempt a mass-production, but in the real world of Ebay, Craig's List and vintage stores, long tail economics rule; there are too many niche items that appeal to too few people for a big company to mass produce them all.


The one that got away. But me like. White bakelite, Cosby radio (Ebay).

When Pottery Barn mass produced vintage phones, they took the ones that were most readily available already in an effort to appeal to the common denominator and activate the areas of the brain that already resonated with their customers. So the black, vintage phone in all the movies gets mass-produced with "innovations" of silver, red and white.

Check out the bakelite items I am currently resisting (barely) on Ebay. These types of fetishes are an excellent way to define your space and avoid ubiquity.

What's your design fetish? Whether is's needlepoint, comic books, guilded furniture or something I can't even fathom, who cares? Find a way to make it cool; incorporate it into your regular decor in order to protect yourself against design ubiquity.

When Everything's Cool, How Can You Be? Part 1 of 2

CB2 orange bench and West Elm orange lacquer side cube table.

I wandered into CB2 the other day and found myself quite taken with their selection and general innovation. However, the experience was strangely unsettling. What happened? Here's a story about trends, and how they can sneak up and clobber you over the head.

So here goes, I've been thinking of painting my coffee table lacquer orange for a year; I thought it would be a cool way to sex up the dilapidated piece and add a pop of color to the otherwise neutral room. The problem is, CB2 beat me to it and orange lacquered over half the store. It's like some kind of design conspiracy, a vast one, and now all my friends will have orange lacquer furniture; when they come to my house, they won't even notice how incredibly creative and unique and wise I am, and when I explain that orange lacquer was my idea, they'll just roll their eyes. That T8, they'll think. He's a card.

To make matter worse, West Elm, (which is to Pottery Barn as CB2 is to Crate and Barrel), has done the same thing. WTF?, I ask.

Sofa, coffee and side tables at CB2.

It's the Ikea effect, democratitization of design or some nonsense like that. I busted my ass to get my apartment where it is today, and I'll be damned if its going to be upstaged by some kid's dorm room. I prefer Design Dictatorship (but I will be benevolent.)

More orange lacquer (sigh) . . . West Elm Dining Chairs.

If I don't paint my coffee table lacquer orange just because it's trendy, aren't I just as bad as the people lining up to buy lacquer orange because it's trendy? When there are a million mass merchandisers offering everything under the sun, how do you use design to reflect your personality and still retain some semblance of individuality?

I'll explore the question later this week. In the meantime, comment or send me your ideas.

Shiny happy desk lamp at CB2 on North Avenue in Chicago.

Is this CB2 or Jayson Home & Garden. The (design) line is getting pretty fuzzy. Don't worry, the money line is still pretty defined.

Study Suggests People Like Sheep, Design Trends Prove It

Photo from PDAToday.com. The first "official" human-sheep chimera. These sheep have 15% human DNA.

A recent study published in the Animal Behavior Journal, suggests that people really do behave like sheep and that as little as five percent of our population influences the behavior of the entire group.

I'm EXACTLY like sheep (only less fluffy and comfortable). From a design perspective, I realized today that I LOVE wallpaper, and I want it everywhere. Why? Because taste-makers decided it was time for a comeback, designers started convincing wealthy people, it started showing up in magazines and now I want it. Pretty soon they'll be selling wallpaper maps or "bold" color florals at Pottery Barn, and then we'll start the descent. Having said that, I am crazy about this one:


David Hick's wallpaper from October 2007's Elle Decor

This post is a call to arms. Send me the photos that put you in the 5% of humans that are leading the rest of us around; I'll start a new column, the 5%. My ideas? Do something crazy; keep your journal on an accent wall, make your own lamps (it's not hard) or experiment with colors au contraire. Why don't I do it first? What, are you crazy?

Which design trends are you bucking?