The 96-square-foot house
“Excess isn’t luxury,” says Jay Shafer, owner of the Tumbleweed Tiny House company. The houses go for $40,000 or $50,000 ready-made but can cost 50 percent less if you build it yourself.
Decor and the brain
From Apartment Therapy
I’m not much of a nester. My friends have lovely abodes, furnished and decorated with thought and care. They have conversations about pieces of furniture and appliances I’ve never heard of. Most of my dwellings have looked like storage units that sweat dirty clothes through their dirty clothes glands. They may also produce a protective coating of paperwork and dishes.
This morning, in a super tired dream state, I found myself a peeping Tom browsing Apartment Therapy, a website that lets you see rad things people have done with their homes. I felt the usual awe of admiring at something I will never ever achieve—attractive homedom—and a touch of annoyance. “Look at all these fancy people with their fancy paint and fancy furniture. Who even cares what color a bathroom is, or a bathroom set. Who has a bathrooms set? Matching dishes, whatever. You know, I just don’t care about this stuff. And that’s OK. And ... oh wow. Look at that.”
The picture I’ve posted here is what grabbed me. The paper globe lights over the dining table look exactly like a weird chunk of my subconscious. Since I was a kid, I’ve doodled globes of concentric rings opening at different angles almost exactly like this.
I think your house, your rooms, can almost be physical manifestations of what it looks like inside your brain. Of course, I have no psychology degree, and this theory may be as scientifically relevant as astrology.
Still, maybe it’s not that I don’t like decorating. Maybe I just have to reach further into my brain to make it happen. Because up top, it’s all ripe socks and shiny luchador masks.
Meet Gary and Elaine. They’re the people who live in our home decor catalogs. Finally, someone is helping to explain their strange sense of style. Find out why the $58 dollar twig is placed atop those books on the console table at Catalog Living.
Mid-Century Couch Wanted
I have my own office at the Alibi, and in exchange for this luxury I promised to fix the room up to look like a mid-century cocktail lounge where the writers could play Mad Men. Months later I’ve yet to decorate or furnish it, and sitting options include two silly exercise balls. Now I’m getting serious about fulfilling my promise. So, the question is: Where do you buy your furniture in Albuquerque? Any hot tips on ‘60s couches?