Tag Archives: decor


I’ve been meaning to post about these guys for a while now but haven’t known what to say other than ‘I want to live in their show room’ and ‘please, good folks from EDIT, please adopt me and/or give me a job now’.

I’ll let the pictures speak for themselves.


Amber glass, that particular shade of turquoise, stacks of books, dyed doilies, retired silk screens as art?  Swoon.

In other news, I’m renegotiating the terms of my relationship with tailor’s pins.  We’re back together but that doesn’t mean there won’t be a pre-nup.

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it’s rockabilly for your eyes

Most of my inner circle knows that I harbour secret fantasies of being a cowgirl and have a penchant for anything with a tripped out country aesthetic…it’s why I’ve had a crush on Carl McCoy for so long.  So it’s no wonder I couldn’t tear myself away from the second issue of Refueled after I came across it in some blog in my reader this morning.  I’ve been poring over it for over an hour, reading every single word of every single article, soaking up all the slick and crunchy imagery.  I’m in ‘zine lust.  It is so super sexy I just want to live in its pages amongst all of those grungy and meticulously curated things.

You can read it at issuu here.

Or you can download it (in PDF format) here.

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best wallpaper ever

No?  I’m usually very anti-wallpaper as I tend to enjoy relatively neutral walls but loads of colour in the art and furnishings within them.  But this?  This makes me happy.  I found the image through Desire to InspireThe rest of the space is incredibly cool as well.  I love that it hasn’t adopted any single decor style and is as expressive and pulled together as it is.


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for certain categories of reprobates and outcasts

Despite the undeserved scorn for them in the fashion world, their affiliation with pompous twats like Tim Burton (I LOVE YOU TIM BURTON…even if you’re a pompous twat) and neurotic status in decorating…eye ❤ stripes of all stripes.

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every home should have one…or six

In rediscovering my love of Decorno – a wonderfully astute and oft-times refreshingly catty design blog – I was reminded of the great orchid debate started with Nick Olsen’s off hand comment that they are ‘cheesy’. Now let me preface all of the rest of this by confessing that I am not a flower girl. That’s not to say I reject all plant life. Quite the opposite, really; I much prefer receiving full-on plants as gifts than cut flower arrangements any day. My house is currently a jungle of foliage and I’m a notorious pincher of buds so that my lovelies can focus their energy on producing more foliage though I sometimes allow my elephant ear begonias their profusions of pink petals…but they’re dead headed the instant any browning turns up. Were I to get married again the ladies would be carrying giant potted ficus trees in place of bouquets and the men-folk would wear suits of porthos growing out their shoes. I’m just hardcore like that.

So, plants = yes! Flowers = no!

The exceptions being the odd bromeliad I can actually get to bloom and, of course, orchids. Being what they are, the flagrant displays of the sexual organs of plants, I find flowers funny in a puerile sort of way so my rule is: the more flagrant, the better. I don’t want the pasty, white phaelenopsis or cymbidium – the classic tuxedo adorning Audrey Hepburns of the floral world. No, no, no. When I invite flowering plants into my house the a-list is comprised of specimens which will give a kitschy ceramic Elvis (Hawaiian edition) bust (because one day I will have one) and all its machismo a run for its money. Only Mae Wests, Lucille Balls, Divines and Grace Joneses are invited to this party and orchids come in all of those flavours.

Let us have a look at a few worthy specimens shall we, crumpets?

This is Grace.  I rescued her from near death, brought her to budding and passed her on having no clue what she would look like in full bloom.  Remember that day-glo magenta sweater your grandma knitted you for Christmas in the 6th grade?  Remember how you were certain that colour was not found in nature?  WRONG!  Grace proudly displays her day-glo magenta love.  She’s only with me temporarily while my sister moves homes (and far, far away from me…sniff).

That’s Mae.  I’ve rescued a lot of orchids before but was never allowed to keep them then one day Mae found her badass way to our home via the mister and has never looked back.  She used to be more orange but she’s been switching it up for some green.  She’s kind of scary, isn’t she?  I don’t think Georgia O’Keefe could have captured that level of pudendaphobia.

Here are a few more orchids I do not share space with but would not kick out of bed for eating crackers:

courtesy of adesinamedia.

Courtesy of tigerorchids.

courtesy of paramount orchids.

See?  They are cheesy, but same way sighting your first hooker in a snake skin skit at Jane and Finch is cheesy.  You still oggled, didn’t you?  Cheesy, but not boring and welcome chez nous any day.

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