Hey, remember when Daniel performed a thrifting miracle and produced a Random Light seemingly out of thin air for about 85% off retail? That was almost NINE MONTHS ago, during which time said lamp has taken up a bunch of space doing absolutely nothing on the floor of the room at the back of the house (also known as Evan’s studio).

Well, no more!! It is FINALLY suspended from the ceiling and emitting light. Yay! I realize these pictures are no fun, but the room is a mess and it was dark out and honestly I was just happy to have accomplished something that wasn’t on my decidedly un-fun to-do list.

We hung the lamp kind of low directly above the desk. It’s huuuuuuuuge (too big for our living room, even with 10-foot ceilings!), and the only way it made sense to hang it was over a table. It looks really pretty against the black wallpaper.

Better photos to come once the room is fixed up a bit more! Perhaps Evan will agree to do a guest post…

The rocking chair in the room at the back of the house (technically now Evan’s music studio, but it feels weird saying that) has a new buddy! We bought this mustard-colored upholstered Eames shell chair years ago for cheap. It came with a standard H-base that was rusted out and missing all of its feet. A while back I swapped in a rolling DAT base that came off of another chair, but since we really don’t have any use for a rolling chair, it’s just kind of been sitting around in a corner of the guest bedroom doing nothing since then. It has a 2-inch tear in the upholstery (due to bad packing—grrrrr), but the mustard color is so great that I don’t care.

As long as an Eames shell chair has a narrow-mount configuration on the bottom (most of the stacking shells have a wider mount—you can see the difference here), all of the different kinds of bases are interchangeable. It’s much easier to find vintage shells at good prices if you don’t care about the bases, and it’s relatively inexpensive to buy reproduction bases in whatever style you want. True, a vintage chair with a repro base isn’t worth as much as an intact original, but I really don’t care about that. I’m just happy to see a vintage shell get a new life.

I’ve bought multiple bases (including the one on the rocking chair above and the dowel bases on the chairs in the apartment kitchen) from the eBay seller Depury, but there are plenty of other sellers out there all offering roughly the same product at more or less the same price points. You can expect to pay between $75 and $125 depending on the type of base.

Whatever you do, make sure you hang on to the screws and rubber washers/shock mounts when you remove the old base. Most upholstered Eames shells have removable rubber washers and threaded holes in the fiberglass, but others (including all of the non-upholstered shells) have thick, permanent shock mounts affixed to the bottom that allow bases to be attached without the screws penetrating the shell itself. Just don’t go screwing anything to the bottom of your chair without there being some rubber involved!

We chose a wire-frame LAR/low-rod base (commonly known as the “cat’s cradle”) for this chair. Since it’s going to be sitting next to a rocker, I thought having a height difference between the two would be nice. Also, it’s low enough for the dogs to climb in! I suspect this is going to become a favorite snuggle-spot (and photo-op) in the near future.

It’s safe to say that I’m kind of obsessed with Bertjan Pot’s Random Light. A few years ago, I included it on a list of coveted pendant lamps. Shortly thereafter, I posted about a budget-minded DIY version that was in ReadyMade (by the way, the two people I know who attempted that project were met with much disappointment by the result).

I think about this lamp all the time. I lie on the living room sofa and try to imagine how beautiful it would look floating in the middle of the room. Every time I come across a photo of one in situ, I force Evan to look at it and acknowledge how fantastically beautiful it is. Basically, I mentally bow down at the feet of Bertjan Pot regularly to both thank him for creating this amazing thing…and to beg him to give me one in exchange for knowing how happy he’s made me.

L: Photo by Patric Johansson; R: Interior design by Philippe Harden

Shamone, look at that thing!! It’s so beautiful that I noticed it before the poodle sleeping under the desk, and considering how finely-tuned my tiny dog radar is, that’s saying something.

The only problem, of course, is the price. The 33″ medium size (which is what I’d want for the living room) is roughly $1125, putting it way, way, way out of our range. Sure, I guess we could set aside $50/month for the next two years, but honestly? I don’t know if I could ever bring myself to lay down that kind of cash for a lamp. That’s not to say that I don’t think it’s “worth” that much (after all, we’re not just paying for the product itself, but for the fact that someone came up with the idea in the first place), just that I can think of a million more important things that I could use that kind of money for. Like my student loan for example. But I digress.

So anyway, yesterday I was blathering on about light fixtures on Twitter, and I tweeted this:

I mean, I have to keep wishing, right? It’s not like the universe is just going to plop one down on my doorstep. I have to ask for it. I have to really want it.

About an hour later, I was busy crawling around on my office floor trimming a window shade, when I heard a text message arrive on my phone. I’m one of those annoying people who forgets that cell phones are portable, so I didn’t bother dropping everything to go and check it. 20 seconds later, though, my phone rang…and it was Dan from Manhattan Nest, calling from a thrift store. He told me to go look on Twitter. I did.

Friends, a great miracle had occurred:

AAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIYYYYYYYYYYYYYYEEEEEEEEE!!!!! Can you even?! Really now. What are the chances of this happening? Zero? One in eight hundred gazillion? Who knows. All I care about is that there is a white, 33″ Random Light wrapped in cellophane in Dan’s apartment right now, waiting to come home to live with me and Evan. And it cost about 1/6 of the full price! Yeah. I’m already getting in shape and growing my hair out into an Afro so I can pose with it nude like in the photo at the top of this post.

Now I can move on to asking the Twitter-universe to allow Dan to miraculously find Prouvé sideboards, Damien Hirst diamond skulls, and suitcases full of cash at thrift stores for mere pennies.

This is a sad, sad situation here, right? This mess of cords in the apartment makes me so upset. I know it’s only three plugs, but between the protruding timer on the lamp and the big black monster that powers our radio, there’s really no way to hide the whole thing with a carefully positioned pile of books or a cord channel. For a while I’ve been hiding it behind the giant ampersand, but I want to hang that thing on the wall, not leave it leaning precariously in a corner.

Over Christmas, we received a gift from an author of some baked goods in a large, round wooden box. It’s nothing fancy (a notch above balsa wood, really), but I snatched it because I was sure I’d be able to use it for something.

Unable to look at that cord mess for one day longer, I devoted an unreasonable amount of time yesterday afternoon to figuring out how to get it out of my sight. I abandoned my plans of preparing and freezing meals, cleaning out the kitchen cabinets, giving myself a pedicure, doing photo research, and pretty much everything else that would have made my week easier, and set about turning this round box into a…um…what? An electric outlet cozy?

Since everything looks better with a cross on it (case in point) I used tape to mask one out (sort of the reverse of what I did on my medicine cabinet), then used some leftover wall paint to fill in the negative space. The trick to preventing bleed-under when painting over tape on bare wood—especially when it’s very porous and rough, like this box—is to use a really dry brush. Always paint away from the center so you’re not brushing toward the edge of the tape. The paint will dry very quickly, so you can easily do three very thin coats.

Cute, right? I decided to leave the edges of the box bare wood. I didn’t take a photo, but I cut a little notch out of the bottom edge to allow cords to pass through.

The last step was to corral the cords into a little bundle so they’d pass through the notch easily (all of the excess cord length got wrapped up to be hidden by the box, too), then I put a nail in the wall to hang the box from. It’s not attached to the wall, so if I need to access the outlet it’s not a problem at all. Then I smooshed some books underneath to further distract from the extending cords.

I doubt this is a project that anyone else will be replicating in their own homes, but I figured I’d share it anyway! I know I could have made a very simple box to hide the outlet and painted it to blend with the wall more (or bought something prefab made of plastic, I imagine), but I thought it would be more fun to make something that looks intentional. Intentionally weird, maybe, but at least I can’t see that stupid outlet or the plugs anymore!

EDIT: There has been some concern from a couple of commenters over whether this box poses a fire hazard. The answer is no. First of all, the outlet and electrical box/wiring inside (which are all new) are NOT overloaded. I realize it looks like there are a lot of things plugged in, but that’s an illusion caused by the color, size, and shape of the three plugs and the lamp timer. Second, the box (which is quite large—it’s about 5″ deep and 14″ wide) is NOT airtight by any means. There is plenty of airflow, even more than inside of a TV cabinet, kitchen cabinet, or other places where you might have an enclosed outlet. This is no more hazardous than putting a piece of furniture, a refrigerator, or curtains in front of an electrical outlet—or having an outlet inside of a kitchen cabinet to power undercabinet lights, etc. I am a big fan of electrical safety, and I would never do something like this if it posed a risk.

First up is Daniel Östman’s striped cotton bathrobe from Design House Stockholm. It’s reversible, so you can be more black or more stripes depending on your mood. There’s also a hood, which in my experience makes nearly every garment more snuggly.

I’ve never owned a bathrobe as an adult. Lately I’ve been thinking I want one, though, because I hate putting my pajamas back on after I’ve taken shower and coated myself with moisturizer. Problem solved.

I’ve wanted a Kubus candlestick (designed by Danish architect Mogens Lassen in 1962, blah blah blah) forever. This sucker was only 25 clams, so how could I leave it behind? It’s in perfect condition, too—only the box is damaged. They also had the big ones for a few dollars more. I’m sort of tempted to go back and get another one.

THE DOTS!! I’ve had my eye on Tveit & Tornøe’s humongous wooden Dots for a while now, and even though I don’t know exactly where I want to use them (In the dressing room, perhaps? Or maybe the kitchen…), I couldn’t pass them up. I got them in screaming yellow, and once again, only the box is damaged.

I don’t care if it’s gauche to share receipts or talk about prices. I saved $386.75!

TIP: Never accept the marked price on anything that’s been discounted at an outlet store. There’s almost always flexibility. Ask for an additional reduction, especially if the item is damaged or if it’s been sitting around for a while. They want to clear out inventory!

I decided to stain the fruit crates black. At first I thought I’d want to leave the wood bare or oil it, but after giving them a good cleaning and sanding, it was pretty clear that the wood just wasn’t cute enough to leave exposed. I used an opaque black stain, the same as I used for the mega-planters and for a million other projects over the years (I’m still on the same gallon!). In my mind that was a 30-minute project, but in reality, it took six hours to paint three crates. The wood was really porous, and there are just so many tiny nooks and crannies and surfaces to cover.

I may still add casters to the bottom crate à la this photo, but for now, I like how these guys look stacked two high in the living room. I took my Dwell magazines out of storage (I’m not a fan of magazine hoarding, but I do love Dwell and refer back to old issues often—I got rid of several years’ worth when I moved out of Brooklyn, and I still regret it) and piled ‘em up. I love the colored spines on the more recent issues.

I spent a little time cleaning up this radiator, too. We’ve had it wrapped in aluminum foil (no, seriously) for a couple of years now because the paint flakes off like crazy and we don’t want the dogs to eat it, but after a long session with a wire brush, I think I’ve managed to remove most of the really loose stuff. We still need to have the radiator sandblasted and powder coated—it’s really expensive, so that’s on the back burner for the time being—but at least it’s less of a danger now. I know the scruffy old chipped paint look (I refuse to call anything in my house “shabby chic”, sorry) can be nice, but there’s a fine line between rustic and health hazard. A rusty radiator covered with flaking paint isn’t something anyone should have in their house.

By the way, if you have old cast iron radiators and you’re looking for a good way to keep them clean, I highly recommend buying a long, bendable vent brush (this is the one we have, but I’m sure there are plenty of other brands). It’s kind of horrifying (but super-satisfying) how much junk they manage to clean out of the fins.

p.s. Did you notice how much we managed to cross off of the to-do list for this weekend? I’m so proud!

I almost died when I saw this. Why is Morgan at The Brick House such a genius?? She’s been blogging about fixing up her raggedy old fence, and instead of throwing away the rotted posts that weren’t fence-worthy any longer, she cut off the ends, bolted them to a couple of Eames LTR bases scavenged from a banged-up surfboard table, gave the wood a healthy dose of teak oil, and…HELLO! Is this not the most beautiful bench you’ve ever seen?

What’s really killing me right now is that about a month ago, we came across an Eames surfboard table at the DWR Annex that looked like it had been chewed on by rabid Chihuahuas and then thrown off a cliff, but it was marked down to $99. We passed it by, but we probably could have talked it down to way cheaper and then used the bases to make something awesome like this. Something we could actually use. But I’m not as smart as Morgan.

Next up is this blanket-turned-window shade from Matt at Wood&Faulk. It’s so awesome it landed him a feature in the Dec/Jan issue ReadyMade magazine! I was agog over this project when Matt first posted photos on Flickr back in April, so I’m really happy to see it (and his great blog) getting some well-deserved attention. I can’t wait to get a full set of instructions on how to make my own shade! I have the exact same door in my kitchen…

(Is there anything wool blankets can’t do, by the way?)

This is the simplest project ever, but I’d never have thought of it. Sure, we’ve all stacked up our magazines, but Suki at Varpunen went one step further and created a strap out of ribbon and D-rings to hold them all in place. The result is much more finished-looking than a wobbly stack, and it really does create a functional bedside table. I’m not yet at a point where I can get rid of all of my magazines without having a nervous breakdown, so this is making me rethink keeping a decade’s worth of copies of Dwell (those colorful spines!!) hidden away in a cabinet.

+ See also: People who made cool stuff out of other stuff, Part 1.

You know how you always see cool projects all over the place that involve re-purposing old fruit crates? Or old shipping pallets? And then you start getting obsessed with looking for these old fruit crates and old shipping pallets everywhere you go. Where is everyone finding this stuff? It’s like there must be some pile of magical old wood out there somewhere, just waiting for you to take it home and make it into something lovely. Except you never actually find that magical pile of wood—not in a location where it’s up for the taking. At least I don’t.

What was I talking about? Oh yeah, fruit crates. I found some! A whole bunch, actually. They’re all piled up in the parking lot of a store that’s gone out of business on the outskirts of Newburgh. We’ve liberated three of them so far, and I think we’ll go back and get some more this weekend. I want to use them for basement storage bins. If I can get my hands on a bigger, sturdier crate, I want to put casters on it and use it for stashing magazines in the living room. Like so:

(via emmas designblogg)

I’m not sure how I missed this story when it first ran in the New York Times, but today I happened to stumble onto it while reading the comments on this post (thanks, Madeline, whoever you are!).

Sandra Foster and her husband, Todd, bought a piece of land in Delhi, NY, with a hunting cabin and a trailer on it for $46,000 and spent $3,000 renovating and decorating the 125 square foot cabin until it resembled a magical Victorian gingerbread house. Sandra did virtually ALL of the work herself. I am super-impressed.

There are a bunch of additional photos (and a great article!!) on the NY Times website. So inspiring.

All photos by Trevor Tondro for The New York Times.

Case in point? THIS DESK. Holy mackerel, right? Dan over at Manhattan Nest (which is a rad blog you should all be reading, by the way) made it out of a beat-up nightstand he found on the street, some knobs, a couple of sheets of MDF, legs from IKEA, some knobs, and a little paint:

Total cost? EIGHTY-THREE SMACKERS. He rented the tools and did this in an NYC apartment, too (let’s hear it for spray-painting on the fire escape!), so I don’t want to hear any crying about how you “don’t have space” to build stuff. Check out Dan’s blog for more details on the construction process.

Example #2 of making-cool-stuff-out-of-other-stuff is this amazing shelving unit from Daniel and Valeria at the always-inspiring Hindsvik blog (they have a great vintage Etsy store, too). Inspired by the Brick House (in turn inspired by the Ace Hotel in Palm Springs), they put this together using standard metal plumbing pipes and reclaimed barn wood:

There are more photos on the Hindsvik blog (yes, the cabinet opens!). Don’t you suddenly feel the need to build one of these units in your house? Somewhere? Anywhere? All I know is I’m keeping my eyes peeled for the perfect pile of discarded wood.

And all I did tonight was make popsicles (out of all-new materials, FYI).

Aside from installing a ceiling light fixture and cramming it full of stuff, the closet-to-be is now officially a CLOSET. What was once a filthy, unused, and unfinished space behind a door used solely for attic access is now a much-needed 18-square-foot storage space, and it’s pretty cute, too!

Once the plaster walls had been repaired, the electric work was done, and the ceiling was in place (THANK YOU, CLOSET FAIRY!!), I got to work on cleaning up the considerable mess that was the floor. As I mentioned, the existing floor was old linoleum, which I’d planned to leave in place and cover with FLOR tiles. However, I was pleased and surprised to discover that not only was the linoleum laid in a single sheet, but it was not attached to the floor in any way! No creepy glue, no scary asbestos paper. I was able to simply lift it and remove it in one piece. Excellent!

Underneath the lino was a plank subfloor (just like in my office). This subfloor runs through the entire house, of course, but with the exception of this closet and the office, it’s covered with finished, face-nailed strip flooring everywhere else. (If you’re curious about the finished floors, here’s a post about them!) The subfloor in the closet, of course, was never finished in any way, and was splintery, stained, and soft.

In other words, the floor was ripe for painting! Out came the sandpaper, the primer, and the floor paint, and I got to work.

Because we’re going to be storing some heavy stuff in here, we need to have a covering on the floor. I had ordered the aforementioned FLOR tiles before discovering that the lino could be easily removed, but when it arrived, I realized I’m not really a huge fan of the stuff. It’s a little too perfect for my taste. Happily, I remembered this rug, purchased last year on eBay for $3. I’d never found the right spot for it before, but it fits perfectly into the closet!

I apologize for the quality of the photos. It’s very tricky to get a decent shot in there . . .

We finished the guest bedroom more than six months ago, but we still haven’t had any guests. Boo-hoo! Until someone deems us worthy of visiting, I’ve decided to make a point of hanging out in the guest bedroom from time to time. It’s nice in here!

The salmon-pink plastic Philco radio on top of the credenza still works. I bought it years and years ago at a stoop sale in Brooklyn for $5. I love the sound of old transistor radios, especially to listen to baseball games (even though I have no real interest in baseball). Insta-nostalgia.

I wish I could remember where I got the little clock on top of the mantel. Probably at another Brooklyn stoop sale! I’ve had it forever. (The poster, of course, is from Elisabeth Dunker of Fine Little Day.)

Now doesn’t that look like a nice place to take a nap?

I’m a sucker for a bargain, and the DWR Annex in Secaucus (almost) never fails to disappoint. This Saarinen side table looks totally fine, right?

From this angle, too! I can’t see anything wrong with it. Why would it be marked down EIGHT-FIVE PERCENT??

Ah-ha! I see why now—there’s a chunk missing out of the edge. Oh well. Doesn’t bother me! It’s near a wall, anyway. You have to really look hard to see the damage, and even if it were more visible, who cares?

I’ve gotta say, I highly recommend that anyone who thinks IKEA is somehow inferior to so-called “high-end” goods in terms of overall durability spend an hour at the DWR Annex. Trust me, a $430 laminated side table chips just as easily as an $80 (for two!) version (and looks just as bad afterward). You need to look at the quality of individual products. Don’t worry about the brand name!

(Also, tulips. They make everything more beautiful.)

Our little apartment has three closets, all quite generously-sized. Since we don’t have lots of clothes or need excessive amounts of storage space, we decided to turn the largest of them into an office. We don’t watch much television these days, but this setup meets our needs in that area as well (no need to miss episodes or Project Runway or American Idol just because we’re in the city!). We have a Slingbox connected to our cable box at the house, so anything we watch up there can also be viewed through our computer in the city. Nice, huh?

Plus, when we’re not using the computer (for work or TV-viewing), we can just shut the doors, return the chair to the kitchen, and the whole thing disappears. It’s nice to be able to shut out technology sometimes.

Check it out—I have a white painted floor in my apartment! Okay, so it’s just the closet floor, but still. All of the closet floors are painted white. They had already been painted previously (the same grotesque shade of flat mayonnaise yellow as the walls, which was badly chipped and extremely dirty), so I’m not breaking any “rental rules” here. (Hah.)

The desk itself is cobbled together out of 3/4″ plywood that was already in the apartment (the building super had attempted to build some sort of closet divider with it). I painted it black to match the wall (that’s the same color as in the kitchen: Benjamin Moore ‘Soot’ (Aura Matte finish). It’s resting on two plywood cleats attached to studs on either end, and gets extra support in the middle from two diagonal braces (pieces harvested from these IKEA trestles). A $10 pull-out keyboard shelf completes the desk. It’s a bit of a Franken-creation, but it works, and the total investment was less than $30.

(And yes, we have wires just like anyone else! They’re all running through this nifty cable organizer which hangs on the back of the desk, and are then attached to the wall with cable clips completely out of sight. I loathe visible power cords and wires, especially in a working environment.)

Oh, and did you notice the Componibili storage unit? That’s the same one we scavenged for $29 back in August 2008. It gives us all the storage we need here. Perfect.

The cute Asteroid bud vases are designed by Koray Ozgen (the creator of our matching Asteroid lamp).

I’m still trying to find just the right place for them, but right now Martha McQuade‘s beautiful “Dipped Horizon” and “Marfa Path” prints have taken up temporary residency in the closet office.

My desktop wallpaper is made from a picture of Michael Jackson in photographer Todd Gray’s INCREDIBLE book Before He Was King. (Raindrops added by me, of course.)

Yes, we’re still working on the apartment! Everything takes three times as long as you feel like it should, of course, but we’re getting there. The little dining area in the kitchen is now complete, and last night we ate our first dinner (roasted red pepper soup, tiny boiled potatoes with dill, and a salad) at our new table.

Two and a half years ago, I mentioned swapping out the original stacking bases on these vintage upholstered Eames shells for dowel rods, and I just now got around to it. (I bought the bases on eBay.) They look great. I should have done this sooner instead of just relegating the chairs to the basement for so long.

The flip-down table is the NORBO from IKEA in birch. I had originally planned to paint the entire thing black, but the wood is nicer than I had expected it to be. I opted to just paint the bracket to make it blend with the wall so that the table looks like it’s floating.

p.s. For those who like to know, the paint colors are Benjamin Moore ‘Soot’ and ‘Simply White’ (Aura Matte finish). The Stendig calender is by Massimo Vignelli, and the ceramic ‘Fire’ candle holder is by Nathalie Lahdenmäki.

p.p.s. Here’s a before photo of the same part of the kitchen, taken when we first visited the apartment:

I haven’t been doing a lot of scavenging lately, but with a second home in the works, I’ve started keeping my eyes open a little wider again. Yesterday I found this pretty piece of pottery at the the Goodwill for $2.99! I love the rich, deep blue of the cross pattern and the all of the crazing in the glaze.

I get asked about this a lot, but I don’t really have any secret tips for good scavenging—it’s just luck of the draw. I check Craigslist regularly (I have a list of keywords that I search for), and every now and then I buy something on eBay, but I don’t do a lot of going to antique or thrift shops. I’m too lazy! I do wholeheartedly recommend the DWR Annex in Secaucus (there are also Annex locations in Palm Springs and Cleveland, which I assume are similar), however, but not during the “sales”. You’ll get a better deal just going there on a regular day. It’s not as busy, there’s more stock, and the salespeople have more time to negotiate on prices.

And the Goodwill! I do love the Goodwill, even though 99% of what’s there is garbage. It’s that remaining 1% that gets me excited.

I can’t believe it’s been almost a month since I made a real post. I just needed a break. I’m eternally behind on emails, projects, sleep…everything. I can’t say I’m any more caught up now than I was four weeks ago, but sometimes you just need to have one less thing to think about.

Anyway, Fritz here would like to welcome you (and me) back, and show off one of our newly reupholstered chairs. He would also like to mention that he has not chewed on the new fabric at all—not even a tiny taste.

This is one of the two chairs we bought almost two years ago (!) and “temporarily” wrapped in linen with plans to have new cushions made. It sure took us long enough, but I love the new fabric SO MUCH. We had a local upholsterer do the work. For all four cushions (two chairs), it only cost $200 for the foam to be re-wrapped and new, zippered covers made with flat seams. The fabric is a commercial-grade Maharam wool blend, which we bought at an enormous discount from Modern Fabrics. I cannot recommend them enough as a resource—excellent customer service, great prices, and a pretty amazing selection of high-end remnants.

I’ve started moving things into the white room, and wow, it’s tough to go wrong in there. I could put a stuffed Marmaduke doll from a state fair in there and it would look like high-end design. (Um, not that I plan to.) I’m really trying to restrain myself furniture-wise, and I would like very much to keep the number of pieces in this room to what’s in this photo, a desk chair, and this guy. Storage will be restricted to what will fit in the desk drawer, the Componibili unit, and on shelves in the closet. My internet access is wireless, so there won’t be any cables to deal with.

All that’s left is to hang the black Fir Tree wallpaper on the wall behind the desk, which could possibly happen this weekend.

I really want to paint all of the flooring upstairs white. It improves my whole mood walking into this room!

Here’s quick rundown on what’s in the room and where it came from:
Desk: My father’s old drawing table (adjustable legs removed, drawer front stained black), with VIKA MOLIDEN legs from IKEA (free/$60)
Storage unit: Kartell Componibili unit from DWR Annex ($29)
Stool: vintage Arne Jacobsen design for Fritz Hansen (eBay, $20)

About a year and a half ago (yikes, I didn’t realize it had been quite that long), I found this upholstered Eames shell chair for $20. A very good deal to be sure, but it was in need of reupholstery—and, well, it’s pretty much just been sitting in the basement literally gathering grime since then. The thing about these upholstered shell chairs is that once the underlying foam is shot, there’s really no way to salvage the fabric, even if it’s in good shape. Unfortunately, the foam used in the older shells has a tendency to break down and crumble, and ultimately detach itself from the fabric. It’s not a pretty sight, and reupholstery is not a simple DIY (by the way, if you’re looking to have one reupholstered, Retro Redo stocks all of the Girard-designed fabrics used for the originals, and their prices are reasonable).

Rather than let the thing sit in the basement any longer, I went ahead and painted the fabric. With black house paint. And you know what? It looks pretty darned good. Yes, you can still see the lumpy foam underneath, but you can’t see the embedded wax stains, the faded and worn arms, or the cigarette burn on the seat. Given that the entire project took all of an hour and cost pennies, I think it was well worth it!

It’s okay to paint things (or modify them in other ways) even if they’re “valuable” (and really, the true monetary value of any mass-produced mid-century furniture is debatable, but that’s another topic for another life)! The important thing is that the chair is no longer sitting in my basement, and it can now be appreciated for its form, function, and style. And I can sit in it. Which, you know, is what a chair is for!

And yes, I can still have it properly reupholstered someday if I want to. But I’m guessing I probably won’t.

p.s. That Missoni pillow on the chair? I bought that for 99 cents at Goodwill last summer.

p.p.s. EVERYTHING looks good in an all-white room. I should take a photo of some moldy salad in there just to prove it.

I just won this old Persian kilim on eBay for $3. $3! I love deals like that. I’m not sure where it’s going to go yet, but I have taken note of the fact that it is precisely as long as a Queen-size bed is wide.

DEAL OF THE YEAR, and it’s only March. This Arne Jacobsen lamp has been on my (long) list of things I long for but can’t actually imagine owning because they are crazily expensive, and over the weekend I found one at the DWR Annex for $99. Seriously. It needs to be rewired, which should be a fairly simple project, but come on, $99? That’s tough to beat.

Wait, it’s Sunday night already? Hmm. Actually, it’s technically Monday already, and setting the clocks ahead has made me feel all out of sorts. (Okay, it might also be the pot of coffee Evan made for me at 9PM.) I’m watching American Graffiti and putting off going downstairs to the Basement of Doom to get the laundry out of the dryer.

(Speaking of American Graffiti, I’ve always thought it’s kind of weird that such a nostalgic, era-specific film was made about a night only 11 years before the movie was made—1962/1973. I mean, can you imagine someone making an era-specific movie now about a night in 1998?)

Anyway, in 9 hours (or less) the plumbers WILL be here, and by this time tomorrow night, we’ll have a working toilet, sink, and shower. OR ELSE.