Furniture of the Strange

For a while now I have been perusing the Craigslist furniture section wondering exactly what is wrong with people when it comes to photographing inanimate objects for sale/purchase. Clearly, they want to the sell the items, that would be why they took the time to photograph their scary couch, right? So, then why do they insist on posting photos of the items that are best suited for outtakes from a sex tape? (see: grainy quality of photo, light coming in from only one angle, furniture positioned in strange manner). Or, perhaps they want to be invited to be on “Clean House.” Either way, half the time I end up a) feeling sorry for the furniture—ala the Velveteen Rabbit and think, “How could someone treat you like this Danish Modern Buffet clearly inherited by Jethro BoDean who thinks its okay to photograph you outside? I can treat you better!” or, b) clicking quickly past as if looking too long will cause the stains to rub off on my psyche.

The bottom line is that if I’m buying something from someone else, I do not want to think of that person’s relationship with my furniture ever again. In fact, I don’t even want to think of the present situation/relationship said couch/dresser/table might be in right now. Clean slate purchasing is how I like to think of it. So, less is more. Get a close-up of the item and move on. I have carefully compiled some items to provide visual reinforcement to my argument.

Exhibit A: Vintage Wardrobe

Let's start with the A+ student to give you an idea of what normal looks like. The Jackie O of How To Post Furniture on Craigslist. A close-up, a clean item with nothing of the owner lingering around and a clearly taken photo.

Exhibit B: Couch 60 Bucks

Illustrates the slippery slope. While it tries with throw pillows to make it seem inviting, (difficult to do for a prop from "Coalminers Daughter: The Flush Years") if you look closely in the bottom left hand corner you will see a bag of charcoal and assorted other clutter.

Exhibit C: Three Chairs Plus One

A prime example of what NOT to show in the picture (unless the “plus one” is the big hairy cat slinking around the legs). TCPO also illustrates classic faux pas for show: a garbage bag, an animal cage and questionable stains on the linoleum floor.

Exhibit D: Red leather office/computer chair

There is something sinister about the position of the chair and the shadow it casts. And, it is not red as advertised. As if it has perhaps killed its competition? Almost reminiscent of a Hithchcock film. I am torn on this one as the chair could either be wonderfully modern or perhaps was a witness to a murder.

Exhibit E: REDUCED!! BEAUTIFUL FAUX LEATHER OFFICE SET

Again, were these chairs accomplices in a murder? Why the tarp? Why outside? Why do they seem to be conspiring?

Exhibit F: Workbench - great for garage or basement

Okay, so, my nightmares tell me this “workbench” might perhaps be the only piece of furniture in say, the basement of a serial killer.

Seriously, Craigslist sellers, get with the program. Would you go to get your photograph with food in your teeth and wearing your pajamas? Would you go to a job interview in a stained blouse? Perhaps you would, but that does not mean I want to be around you.

How to Talk to Anyone and Decorate Anything

So, a couple of weekends ago I went to a little sort of '60s modern flea market. It was very exciting for several reasons:

1. '60s modern flea market blocks from my house?

2. Cheap/affordable prices

3. Several exciting finds that did not bankrupt me.

It was about 300 degrees so I had to shop fast. The asphalt was burning through my sandals and I had a budget and no real reason to be shopping. Alas, I stumbled upon one seller who had some very crazy lounge chairs which caught my eye. As I was drawn in, I spied a pile of books in the corner. One of which, with its crazy illustrated cover could either be this:



Or, this:



It was the latter--though I wouldn't have been deterred from buying the former either. And, if you have read either, you might notice some similarities in the "How-To" style of narrative.

For those who don't store random design book knowledge in their head, Dorothy
Draper was like the Coco Chanel of decorating in the 1930s-50s. She decorated the lobby of The Carlyle hotel, airplanes, rich people's houses, you name it. And, her PR still rocks even 40 years after her death. So, when I saw the first edition copy of a pillar of the how-to design movement, I snatched it up and tried to be all nonchalant at the price, meanwhile silently doing a victory dance in my head.

The anecdotal style really draws you in. Who can resist case studies like this: "Case History of a Country Wren Who Turned Into a City Sparrow," or "Effective lamps and accessories can lift any room right out of mediocrity into something as distinguished and gay as a Paris hat." Part "Mary Poppins," part Holly Golightly I cannot say enough about the engaging writing style. Reading this nearly convinced me to make a lamp out of a "hurricane chimney," as exhibited in "One Room Apartment: Before and After."

While I have not used any of the advice gained from my quick skimming of several chapters, I can say that I feel more confident about linoleum and the use of leatherette. I don't think a book has ever come so close to being appropriately judged by its cover. Unless you consider my other recent favorite:



Seriously, it's good. It's written in a very breezy style as in the intro: "A few years ago, I found myself at lunch with Aristotle Onassis. . ." However, it offers many helpful tips for conversation such as "Don't confuse being stimulating with being blunt," and covers the gamut from "How to Talk to Tycoons," to "How to Talk to the Handicapped." An interesting narrative arc. But, seriously, this woman has some great advice even if it is a bit dated. Now, next time I'm having lunch with say, Warren Buffet, I will know exactly how to get him to open up.

Something Old, Something New. .

So, we saw Funny People. It was good. Good in both a funny and serious way. I'm sure there were many disappointed teenage/college boys in the audience expecting Superbad II and well, not getting it at all. It was sad and funny and seriously made me feel old in the "Oh my god, I can't believe I am right in between the old and young characters in the movie." Like, old enough to have coveted light Levis and the styles of Melrose Place, but young enough to recognize Jason Schwartzman and laugh at Jonah Hill.

What's really weird, as I pointed out to DG is that I feel like Judd Apatow had to wait for a whole younger generation to grow up before his humor was appreciated. I think that's really interesting. Even more intersting that Leslie Mann was not properly discovered until her husband started casting her in movies. Truthfully, it all gives me hope that there really isn't any golden age for success. See: Tina Fey, Steve Carrell, Jon Stewart. Granted, they all schlepped through about twenty years of showbiz no-biz, but still, a girl has got to dream.

But I digress. So, in other age-related news, I went to the eye doctor for the first time since 1998 and, as I suspected when I could no longer read the Comcast Guide or street signs, or recognize people as friend or foe if they were more than twenty feet away from me--I need glasses. Seriously. As in, when the friendly opto-doctor asked me to read the first line of text with one eye it was all a blur. And, of course my over-achieving self tried really hard to cheat and not admit that I couldn't read a damn letter. Frustrating. Like, math class frustrating.
So, look out world, I'm getting some frames! I tried on DG's glasses and he said I looked like Janeane Garofalo, which I can live with, I suppose. Better than looking like Lisa Loeb (I blame Funny People for the rash of '90s references in this post). He also suggested I consider a monocle, so don't know if he can be trusted.

Note to readers: Never, ever, ever, Google: Women Wearing Glasses. Trust me.



If you can't stand
Adam Sandler, go see this movie.

Books, Summer Ennui, Etc.

I'm just going to go freeform here, so bear with me. I've recently experienced a good patch in reading and, partially for my sake, partially for others, I've decided to catalog my recent reading experiences:

1. The Wind-Up Bird Chronicles: Imagine if David Lynch got really drunk one night with Milan Kundera and their conversation verged into WWII and isolation in modern Japan. This is the book Milan Kundera would write after waking up with a headache. Spiritual, subconsciously terrifying and historically devastating.

2. Last Night at the Lobster: First person fictional account of the closing of one Red Lobster. If Tolstoy visited a mall, this is the book he would write. Slim, hilarious, sad and a great portrait of all the places we find ourselves that we would rather forget even while being there. (Bonus: you learn how they make those fantastic cheddar biscuits).

3. Killshot: Imagine if you could have read "Fargo" rather than watching it. Fast, funny and makes me weep for not having the dead-on dialogue of Mr. Leonard.

4. Charming Billy: American Irish saga, Long Island. Dreamy narrative, lots of characters, sort of sad but not too deep. Lost interest in the last fifty pages.

5. The Road: Not sure yet. Only 10 pages in.

So, that's where I've been lately. DG was very thoughtful and,. this year for my birthday got me a "Culture Log" so I could keep track of restaurants, events, media stuff all in one place. Stupid me didn't understand that you are supposed to put in books/music/movies you want to read, hear, see and I filled in the first page with books/movies/music I want to recommend to others. How backwards is that?

I'm excited for "Funny People," it looks just dark enough to be interesting.

For the Love of God! Take Wall Street, but Not Fashion

So I thought I would relax this evening with a glass of wine and take a gander at new fashions for spring. Do you know what I found? Sheer terror. I have not felt this shudder of my heart about fashion since the resurrection of leggings and tunic tops two years ago.

Granted, I started at the bottom of the barrel, ala the infamous cerulean blue quote from "Devil Wears Prada"--you know the place where fashion trickles to--Forever 21.

I was met with three different lines to chose from: Festival, Rebel Cry, Picnic Perfect, Sail Away and Electric Avenue.

The apocalypse is certainly at the door when "Picnic Perfect" and "Sail Away" sound the most likely to not wind you up looking like a the victim of a makeover inspired by rocking out to Billy Idol or Rick James imagined through the misguided musings of say, Rachel Zoe. I mean, those among us who lived through the '80s might remember when Express! first came onto the scene and invaded malls with neon and safe suburban "punk." Well, if you have missed it for the last 20+ years, don't worry, it's back:



Seriously. So, I immediately ran screaming into the arms of H&M, where I was met by something even more horrifying,something which in its atrocity upon the eyes of humanity cannot even be given a name. So, I will name it in, hopefully, a way to make it less powerful: Denim That Should Only Be Seen in a Rod Stewart Video In Which the Main Character of Said Video the theme of which being, "Girl Who Just Jumped Off a Greyhound Bus From Idaho to Los Angeles Where She Hopes to Pursue Her Dreams to be a Movie Star." Sure, H&M can call this "Festival Fun," but I would prefer to refer to it as the "Fourth Horseman of the Apocalypse." Take a gander at the "cool tomboy look" and tell me that a shudder does not move from the top of your head to the bottom of your feet. It makes Electric Avenue look like Balenciaga. For this look, I full-on blame Kate Moss, Samantha Ronson and DJ from "Full House." Apparently, the future is going to be about colored denim, pegged pants and bolero jackets. I guess I've just had my head in the sand lately between work and other life things, so I've been avoiding fashion, but HELLO???? Style.com is not much better. While I'm intrigued by "Geometry Lessons," there is no way in H-E-Double Hockey Sticks that I would ever be able to pull any of it off without just looking terrible. I have one strapless "sack dress" from last summer that is balled up in the back of my closet after I realized that without wearing 64" heels I just looked like some sort of sad avant garde dancer with no dance.

I really enjoyed the brief Mod thing that went on the last year, but now, this? I thought Boho Chic died a slow death, but now it's back and called "Festival." I hope this too shall pass.

Obama!

I am still processing the Inaugural Experience 2009. I cannot believe a) we actually made it, b) Obama is President and c)that I was a mere pixel in history. But all that aside, I'm sleepy, my toes have regained a feeling of normalcy, and I'm happy to be home. Since every other image, metaphor, interesting thought about the experience has already been taken, I will give you a smattering of what I experienced.

So, after a good two weeks of shocked stares and jaw-dropping "OhMyGodICan'tBelieveYouAreGoingToTheInaugurationYou'reNuts" looks, comments and frantic phone calls and fear factoids from my mother I had nearly convinced myself that maybe I was insane. But, the urgings of a sage Brit who wisely said, "It's not like there will be the second inauguration of the first black president," and the fact that we live only two hours away made me think otherwise.

So, with maps, sixteen layers of clothing, and pockets full of trail mix, we faced our fears. And, after experiencing a full-on escape from the apocalypse crowded Metro stop, we were spat out onto the National Mall at 7:45 a.m. Here is a jumble of what you too could have experienced as part of the hoi polloi:

-Men wearing fur coats.
-A man trolling the Port-a-Potties with a bucket and a bottle of disinfectant charging $1 to clean the potty before you went in.
-A woman carrying a patio table on her head.
-The loose mic feed to the Jumbotron which allowed 2 million of us to overhear banal banter as the important people took their seats at the Capitol.
-A CNN talking head zipping past the Port-a-Potties
-A t-shirt with an image of Obama slam dunking John McCain's head
-Obama faced dish towels
-$10 Obama "change" cards. By signing the back agreeing in your commitment to "change" it becomes a historic document.
-Obama mints
-A little boy in a spiderman mask screaming Obama's name at the top of his lungs.
-The man behind me who shouted out "Richard Nixon!" when Jimmy Carter appeared on the Jumbotron.
-Jumping around like maniacs in front of the MSNBC news "house."


The worse part was the Titanic-esque swarm of people trying to leave through one station and the lack of direction as to where to go to get out of the city. I do feel that my Irish pub/bar experience prepared me for the flesh press, but it was still pretty overwhelming. Let's just say if I never, ever, ever see L'Enfant Metro Station again in my lifetime, that will be fine by me. Unfortunately, we tried to exit through the mall entrance and ended up trapped between a Dress Barn Woman store and a Radio Shack for about 45 minutes until we got the sense to get the hell out of there and try to concentrate less on getting out and more on regaining a sense of normalcy. It was like a weird '80's movie where everyone is trapped in a mall.

Overall, the whole experience restored my faith in humanity. Despite about 1 million people exiting at the same time, only a couple of people got shovey. There was an interesting calm to the day, something I've never experienced in a crowd before. People saying "Excuse me," or "I'm sorry" when they accidentally stomped on my foot. It was like everyone was on their best behavior for Obama. Or, because it was so early we were all completely exhausted, excited and frozen like popsicles. Either way, we came, we saw and wow.

My Favorite Things

Remember when "seeing the world" seemed like something you had infinity to do? I do. I remember when two years seemed like ten and now the opposite is happening all over the place. Needless to say, I need to travel. I feel like for the last few years, I've been wearing down the same trail. RIC to Detroit. RIC to NYC. Okay, so I did go to Portland for a nano-second last year, but I'm missing the real sense of "Oh wow, this is somewhere new."

This weekend was the Grand Illumination in the RIC. It is a night when they light up all of the buildings downtown so they are outlined with lights. I think "grand" might be a bit of an overstatement, but it's a big deal of sorts. And then, there was a Christmas parade to celebrate the Grand Illumination. It's times like these, as I drive pass all of the quaintly huddled residents with children, with parade illuminated faces and the father's struggling with Christmas trees to strap on to the roofs of cars that I think: "How did I get in THIS movie?" So it is kind of odd that I think of life like a movie, but after being inundated with images my whole life, I guess it's appropriate. Which brought me to the thought, well, if I was to live forever in the movies, which ones would I choose?

1. I would like to live in any of apartments/houses featured in "Hannah and Her Sisters," followed by "Vicky, Christina, Barcelona." But only if I could hang out with Michael Caine in the former and Javier Bardem in the latter. I would like to live the other half of the year in the London apartment and the epononymous home in "Howard's End."

2. I'd like to vacation on the set of "The Red Shoes," but only the happy parts in Paris and Monte Carlo.

3. I would also like to be outfitted like any of the women in a Hitchcock film and I would definitely want their luggage.

5. I could do a couple years in "The Talented Mr. Ripley," but only if the creepy and pasty Matt Damon character is never present.

6. I require the banter of Woody Allen, the zaniness of Wes Anderson and the Coen Brothers and the look of Godard. (I cannot even imagine how any of these things could co-exist).

7. I want Anne Hathaway's wardrobe in "Devil Wears Prada."

8. The party scene from "Breakfast at Tiffany's" on repeat. And, as much of "Breathless" as possible. I'll even throw "Amelie" in there for good measure.

But until then, I will continue to live in my Rom-Com which should star Sandra Bullock. Sigh.