My everything arrived

Finally! I've been living in an empty apartment for almost a month. On a cot. A cot that my landlords were nice enough to leave for me. I slept in that little cot. I watched The Office on Hulu on that little cot. Snippets of SNL. Blogged (and blogged). I ate on that little cot. I opened Christmas presents with my parents on Skype from that little cot. I was starting to have some affection for it.

Well, it wasn't really a cot. A single bed. A nice bed. A new one.

BUT over a month on a single bed - day in and day out - makes you feel like you're in the army. On a cot.

And on Christmas!

Empty apartment Christmas

The good news was I felt immediately at home in my new place. Even with the echo. Even with the lack of color and texture and art - the stuff that I crave - that makes me happy.

But my stuff has arrived now. Many things I've collected from my travels - and covet. So unhealthy, coveting things. Covet. covet.

But I was a patient little trooper. Mostly. Save for the swearing at Santa.

The arrival was scheduled for New Year's Eve. Boy, I was going to be tired for the fireworks and festivities. But I didn't care. At 8:00 a.m. the truck pulled up with four containers. Not a shipping container, as I'd seen packed 6 weeks ago in San Francisco.

It was packed to the gills - the movers having trouble getting the doors closed. Saying to me - as I ran toward the container with a last minute box full of frames for my photos and artwork:

"That will not fit."

Oh, yes it will. We will make it fit.

Hmmm...these little boxes looked like STORAGE containers. Hmmm... I thought.




That's interesting. One of the movers said, "Have you been on vacation?" Um, NO - why? "This is usually a holiday for us. Oh, I said? Yeah, we usually don't deliver on this day. Well, I would have gladly accepted the shipment 3 weeks ago, I thought.

One thing I've found is that Australians are very serious about their holidays.

I'd gone into work on December 28th - and not a soul was there. Not one. I looked on my calendar, no holiday. Nothing was marked. It was Proclamation Day and no one told the American. What's proclamation day?

Wikipedia says: Proclamation Day is the name of a number of official or unofficial holidays or other anniversaries which commemorate or mark an important proclamation.

Hmmm... seems vague enough for me. I proclaim every day Proclamation Day!

I also got a taste of this when trying to get a handyman to come in and do a few small things to my apartment. A handyman. You know, the kind that come over on off-hours when you're at home from work to do odd jobs. The kind that are flexible.

Because they're in the service industry.

Well here in Australia, handymen only work Monday through Friday, on their own schedule and they take official and unofficial holidays. And they are - in no way - flexible. I think he thought I'd lost my mind when I asked if he worked on Saturdays.

I'd found someone online, with a nice website (novel for Australia). I only wanted help with a few small things. Fixing the creaky ceiling fan (so I don't dream of trains barreling down the tracks). Fixing the front gate so it latches (and Rose can't get out). Put a chain lock on my door so I can peek out before committing to opening it. Juice up the grill and the fireplace for me for the first time. You know guy stuff. Stuff I don't have time for. I mean, I'm hanging art for god's sake. And fluffing pillows and considering the color scheme.

I also wanted the carpet replaced in my bedroom. Can you do it before the holiday, I asked? A week before the holiday. Oh, no. No one's taking orders now. Really? Do people not like the word PROFIT around here? It will be much easier to do before my furniture arrives. "Ah, we'll just move the bed." Um, I thought - you THINK you'll just move the bed. My bed is HEAVY. You'll see. So now I'm taking Monday from home to get a chain latch put on my front door, among other things.

But oh well, in Australia everyone deserves holidays and breaks on the same schedule - no matter their job. Blue collar, white collar - no one is really defined by their job here. Doctors, handymen - they all hang out in the same pub. Its nice. I like this about Australia.

But, I have to say, its annoying when your handyman comes over to do a walk-through of your apartment and you ask - can you just please hook up the dishwasher today? Nope, absolutely not - can't do that today. Hmmm...I thought. Aren't you supposed to be ACCOMMODATING?

I mean, I will PAY YOU.

What I've found is that money is not as important in Australia than free time. Being hurried and harried is not something Australians do well. They would rather do it on their own time. Because life is short. And I can appreciate that.

But this is one point for the U.S. I can't believe I didn't mention this earlier. The customer is NOT always right in Australia. And customer service is so very lacking its almost comical.

My appliances arrived over a week ago from Bing Lee (you remember, "Everything's negotiable"). When the delivery guys -hired by Bing Lee - showed up, the first thing they said was, "We don't install."

I specifically remember seeing the salesperson type into the system after every single piece was entered into the computer - PLEASE INSTALL DISHWASHER. PLEASE INSTALL DRYER. PLEASE INSTALL REFRIGERATOR.

Did I mention you have to buy appliances when you rent properties in Sydney? Point, U.S.

Um, well, I said, why does it say "PLEASE INSTALL DISHWASHER" on this sheet of paper?

"Well, because they're f***ing idiots."

"Oh, ok."

Hmmm...?

Its like that.

I said, I don't understand. He said, neither do I. They know very well that we don't install. But they keep doing this - telling people we'll install and I have to sit here and tell you that we don't. And I look like the asshole.

He didn't look like an asshole. But he was not pleased. He called Bing Lee. He demanded to talk to the salesperson. They said, "she's not working today." "OH, really?" he said. This was a regular occurrence. The salesperson, a quiet Asian woman, would nicely negotiate with you on prices and enter INSTALL DISHWASHER in the system... and then she would conveniently not be there to answer for herself on delivery day.

I could tell this was distressing him. He didn't like to disappoint people. I could see that in his character. I sat there patiently. How am I going to get these guys to install these appliances for me? I cannot pick that dryer up myself. I will get him to help me. I just don't know how yet.

"You HAVE to stop lying to customers," he said. "You know very well that we don't install! We are just delivery!"

Hmmm... I thought. Maybe this is what Kelly warned me about.

Kelly (hi, Kelly!), my new friend from Google, who moved here a year ago, said, "Customer service is non-existent here." Huh? I thought? This is Australia - everyone's so nice and accommodating.

"Uh, yeah, you'd think," she said. But there's a big gap when it comes to customer service. You'll see when your appliances arrive and you have to hook up your utilities.

I didn't like the sound of that.

And she was right. Actually, the telephone guy was supposed to come yesterday. And he never showed up. I just realized that. Dang.

I could hear the person on the other end of the phone tell the delivery guy, "Just tell her there was a mistake. Blame it on us. She won't know the difference."

He chuckled. He had his phone on speaker.

I looked at him peacefully.

"Well, she's standing right here and I think she knows very well what's going on!"

So, mild mannered as I am, I held out my hand and calmly took the phone. And I ripped the guy a new one.

The delivery man stood there in shock. Laughing. He was so pleased. I told them they were a bunch of liars. That I wasn't fooled by their little sham. That I didn't like being lied to. I kept telling him - STOP TALKING - I'M TALKING - as he tried to get a word in, stuttering through his lies.

As I continued on my tirade I saw the delivery guy out of the corner of my eye, jumping up and down. He even called a friend, "This American girl is ripping them a new one!"

Ha

Truth was, I was only doing it for his benefit - to defend him. He was a nice guy and I knew I wasn't going to get anything out of this. Bing Lee did this for a living - lying to people about installation to get them to purchase their appliances instead of The Good Guys' appliances (hmm, maybe I should have bought from a company called The Good Guys... maybe there's a reason they call themselves that. Because Bing Lee is NOT THE GOOD GUY).

Everything's negotiable, right?

Even installation. Although by the time its delivered to your house, they know you're not going to send it back. You're stuck. They're good. They're really good. But I was pretty good at giving someone an earful. So I demonstrated. And I made the delivery guy's day. And that was good enough for me.

And as a reward he installed my dryer. And he made sure I didn't blow the place up.

He plugged in the fridge and said, "Don't touch this for at least an hour. Longer would be better."

"Why?" I said.

"Its been on the truck - and its like a can of Coke."

I looked at him.

Don't worry, it won't explode.

I backed away.

Must remember THAT.

But they didn't install my dishwasher, hence the handyman. And the pile of dishes in my sink.

But I made someone's day, so that was pretty nifty. And I got to bitch someone out on the phone. All in a good day's work.

The good news is Australia's handicap with customer service does not extend to relocation companies. Not ones that your company pays for. That Google pays for. They, on the flip side, are extremely accommodating.

Two guys showed up promptly at 8:00 a.m. and didn't yell at me for forgetting the parking permit for the truck. The GIANT truck. There was nowhere to park. And it was made worse by the fact that it was New Year's Eve. And that people were known to park their cars on our street to walk to the fireworks in the city, a 30-minute walk. Or that my street closes at 3:00 to traffic to prevent this.

Crap. Shit.

So I hit the streets, knocking on doors...

"Is this your car?" "Are any of these your car?" "Can you help me figure out how to clear at least 4 spaces?

No, its Jean's car. She lives at #4. Then we'd go knock on Jean's door together. "Oh, your shipment is here!" Jean said. "Excellent. Let me move this for you." And it was like that. Gosh, I love Mackenzie Street.

So we played Frogger with the cars on my street. Someone would move one. Then we'd wait, orange cones in hand, and someone would exit their house, leaving for work. I'd spring.

HELLO I'M STEPHANIE YOUR NEW NEIGHBOR FROM CALIFORNIA MY STUFF IS HERE AND I REALLY NEED IT UNLOADED SO I CAN DECORATE BECAUSE DECORATING IS WHAT I LIKE CAN I PLEASE HAVE YOUR SPACE????

One of my English neighbors, when one saw the shipment drive up, said: "Oh, THAT is not going to fit in that little place." "Oh, yes it will," I said. I will WILL IT to fit.

So why did it take so damn long for me to get my shipment? Well, because they had to unpack every single item - after it was so carefully and lovingly packed - inspect it and quarantine anything that had dirt on it.

Anything.

They quarantined my shoes.

Really, people?

They quarantined totally random stuff. Ridiculous stuff. They quarantined my trash can.

And then they'd packed it all back up and put it in storage until they were good and ready to deliver. Assholes. I knew it was taking too long! Sorry, strong language.

But the movers - they were supremely accommodating and nice.

And large. I think they're Tongan (?)

When they saw my bed, they called two younger boys to come and help. To hoist it up my staircase.

And they put those boys to work. I said so.

They laughed, "Oh, they've been driving around all morning goofing off. They deserve it. Especially that one."

They were "taking the piss" out of each other. Kidding each other. Laughing. Diligently working, but having a good time.

They handed me a delivery docket. Its your job to check off each box as it arrives, he said. Oh, fun! I have a job! I love jobs. And I love giving direction. :)

They had an assembly line going. One guy on the truck, one guy on the ground bringing it to my doorstep and the two young blokes running up and down stairs, breathlessly. With a smile.

And then there was me. I was getting into this. I'd get a box, check it off and yell, "KITCHEN!"

They'd grab and run.

I'd say, "This one's heavy"

They'd say, "Nahhhhh - not heavy." And pick it up with one hand and run up the stairs. They older guy laughed. "They're showing off for you, you know?"

No I'm not! I heard. And everyone laughed.

When my bed came out of the shipping container, one of the movers who spoke little English pointed at it and proclaimed: "Warship part." And I laughed. Yep. That's my bed. Solid wood. Heaviest bed EVER. Ordered it online from VivaTerra.com - had no idea how heavy it would be. Same for my kitchen table. Ordered on Wisteria. Arrived and was the largest barn-door-converted-into-a-table I'd ever seen. I mean, c'mon, Stephanie. It says "converted barn door". You gotta know that's going to be huge. Oh, well. It was on sale. And I had been looking for the right table for ages. And I liked dinner parties.

It took them about 6 hours. I helped (or at least I tried to help - they tolerated me). When all the boxes were in the house, they went to unpacking. Piece by piece, they unpacked it all. Everything was wrapped exquisitely. Not one item was broken. Well, not until I accidentally dropped my poodle slipper pepper shaker (that's right, poodle slipper pepper shaker).

So I have a little headless slipper now. No idea why the slipper has a poodle head. Or why the poodle has a slipper body. But it was my fault. They placed everything carefully and deliberately. Moved stuff upstairs when I'd made a mistake about which room it belonged in. No worries, they'd say.

It took me less than 48 hours to get everything mostly set up the way I like it. I'm an efficient machine when it comes to set-up. I cannot STAND to have things in boxes.

MUST.

HANG.

ART.

I even skipped the fireworks to do it. I couldn't bare to leave, not yet. My toiletries were still in a box. I knew it would be there tomorrow. But if I just do this one more thing...and this one more... almost there. Just this one more thing. And then I heard them. Boom! Crack. I ran upstairs to look out my window to see three fireworks displays lighting up the sky - from all directions.


Two from my front window and one from my back window.

My own little fireworks display. And I didn't even need to leave my apartment. Nice, Sydney. The "New Year's Eve Capital of the World," as they say. Giving me a little taste of NYE. Wait a minute? It just occured to me. Fireworks on NYE? That's new. I hadn't realized until now. But its summer in Sydney. And they don't have a 4th of July holiday (why would they?).

So fireworks + NYE - (Apple drop + Dick Clark / Ryan Seacrest) = normal.

After setting up to my satisfaction, I went out to The Ivy to meet my friend Aundy and her husband Barclay, or "DJ Claude Von Stroke" if you will.

Aundy and Barclay are from San Francisco, and I'd always known Aundy's husband was a well-known (in club circles) international DJ, but I'd never met him. And they were coming to Sydney for his Australian tour. And to The Ivy, no less. The hot spot. They'd added me to the guest list. I'm on the guest list under DJ Claude Von Stroke, I said, nonchalantly. Why wouldn't I be?

I couldn’t find her for the life of me. It’s a huge club. You walk by the Ivy and its 4 floors of lights and dance music – pouring out of the place. And this is all the time, not just on New Year’s. The Ivy is a scene and in Sydney they really know how to be seen. All the girls were wearing tight dresses that were barely ¼ of an inch below their nether regions. I was wearing a wrap dress and heels. Not at all clubbing material. But what did I care. I was here to see friends, have a couple cocktails and dance a little.

I walked in and was immediately annoyed. The music was blaring. Four levels of ear-piercing music. And my back hurt from moving all day. I caught myself with my hand on my lower back, walking around the club. Gosh, I'm old.

I couldn’t get anyone at the bar to tell me where Barclay was deejaying…people were bumping into me…I was distressed. Lost. Annoyed. I finally asked the security guy by the stairway (outing myself as an American), "Do you know where Claude Von Stroke is deejaying?”

He slowly turned to look at me. Paused and said, with significant disdain, “I don’t listen to this music.” Full stop. Like a total ass. No shit Sherlock, neither do I. Did I ask you for your musical opinion? NO. I asked you for directions. That’s what you’re good for.

Pause. Breathe.

I finally found a nice person who pointed me to the floor where he’d be deejaying (I really almost hugged him). But they weren't there.

I knew from my friendly fellow that he went on at 11:30, so I waited. After meandering around, calling Barclay's cell phone with no luck and plotting my departure, I saw someone who looked like what my friend Jen (hi, Jen!) had described as Aundy’s husband. A burly bear. Someone who looked like the club version of a roady walked alongside, wheeling some equipment behind him. Bingo.

And then I saw a little hand wave from the behind the burly bear. Aundy. Cute as a button. 5 feet tall with her giant husband, the international deejay. At 40, still supporting him in clubs around the globe. And for a mom of 2, that’s positively admirable.

She looked fab. Had just bought some hot little heels from Paddington (that henceforth crippled her in pain, as all hot little heels do). It was a great night. I got to see Mr. Von Stroke, hear some of his music, hear Aundy sing on some tracks, see his fans - people asking for pictures with him. Shaking his hand.

We danced. We kicked off our shoes, we listened to Barclay's songs - songs that Aundy had sung little snippets on. She was pointing out her voice on the track. "That's me," she'd say, smiling.

On one song in particular you can hear Aundy saying in the background, "Tits!". Its pretty freakin' hilarious. A guy walked up to Aundy and said, "I sing this in my car all the time!" and we laughed. Barclay had a following.

We watched a girl march herself up to the DJ stand, leaning over with her champagne, flirting with Barclay. Making him more nervous that she'd spill champagne on the equipment than anything. He smiled down at Aundy and she laughed. Aundy later went up and gave him a kiss for New Year's and the flirty girl sent her friend over to say, "You know - he's married." And Aundy said, "Yep. To me!"

HA

So in the morning, after NYE, I finished setting up shop. 7:00 a.m. start to the day.

Good morning, Mackenzie Street.

MUST.

Hang.

art.

So here's my little place, fully furnished and almost 100%. The handyman comes tomorrow to hang a few of the heavier items (and get that damn dishwasher working finally). Let's hope he shows!

For those of you who know me well, you know I like to travel (and for those of you who don't know me well, I now live in Australia, so you can imagine I like to travel). And more than anything, I like to take pieces of the culture home with me. I've collected things, little by little, over the years. And I love these things. Not just because they're beautiful, but because they embody the lives of the people I met and the memories of my travels.

And if you ever want to see me get really, truly happy - take me to a folk art museum. I almost had a coniption fit when the Gee's Bend quilts came to San Francisco.

Love, love textiles, color, and hodgepodge.

Folk art quilts = heaven.

Or take me to Cambodia. Or to Croatia. Just take me anywhere really. I heart traveling (you can actually see my Cambodia & Croatia photos on the Flickr photostream to the right).

And if you really, REALLY know me well, I've outed myself to you as a lover of little old lady things. Mostly from the 1930's and I'll spend hours in antique stores or flea markets searching, searching, searching for just the right thing. To build my nest. Piece by piece. Lovingly.

Nest. Nest. Nest.

Here - I'll do a little before and after a la "This Old House", my favorite show as a kid. Oh yes, you heard me correctly. Me & Bob Vila on a Sunday morning, renovating old houses. Bob gave me my introduction to DIY. And Bob knew an old home had soul. I loved seeing a run-down old house renovated while keeping all its character.

And I loved Bob. So knowledgeable. So reliable. So earnest and nice.

Who I did NOT like was Norm. Norm was an intruder. He came out of nowhere. Why is Norm on This Old House? We don't NEED Norm! We have Bob! It disturbed me.

As you can see, this neuroses is not recent, people. I even remember thinking to myself as a kid - Is it weird that I watch This Old House?

So here's my old house (circa 1890's)

7 Mackenzie

Before entry

After entry

Before living room (aka lounge in Sydney English)

After lounge

I found this chair in Napa, took pics and measurements and then had it made to order from a furniture company in SF for 1/3 of the price. And i even picked out my fabric. Thomas Paul.

I got the fabric from Sal Beressi, a fabric MECCA in San Francisco. They ordered it from NY and sent it to LA for the chair.

They did an awesome placement of the pattern on the chair. Perfect alignment. And did I mention they did it in @ 2 weeks? Saints, they are.

Purchased with my first Google bonus. Never looked back.

I found this couch on Restoration Hardware and loved the curvaceousness of it. Little vintage, Little French country - and lot of comfort. Same company replicated it and made to order. Thanks Brian & Shirley from Furniture Envy!

Shirley and Brian went to Restoration Hardware and took the dimensions of the couch for me. I'm really surprised at how well it was replicated, down to the curves of the arm rests. Love it, guys!

My leggy gal propped up there is heavy. I need the handyman to help me with that one. She's from Portland and is painted on an old window frame with pretty paper lining the inside. It gives it a 3-D effect that I like.

Old table, old lamp, new shade from Lotus Bleu, new vases, new folk arty frame. Quebec folk art flag. The guy who made this flag lives on the island of Ile d'Orleans, one of my favorite places in the whole world (right near Quebec City). He has a beautiful shop which is filled with wood carved animals. It was very hard for me to get out of there with only a few things.

I took some birds home with me too.

Here's some quick pics of Ile D'Orleans.

Beautiful island, just off Quebec City.

I could do snow angels!

The Bilodeau family was one of the first 30 families to settle the island. You can see the first house of Jacques Bilodeau at the heritage museum, which I did!

Curvaceous.

I had them design this ottoman too. I love blue velvet - the movie too. They did a nice job on a tough custom item.


Now if I could only make televisions look better. Its takin' the Feng Shui right outta this room. Damn TV.

One of my favorite artists, Bryan Appleton, makes furniture out of old, reclaimed wood. I bought this media cabinet unfinished and said to him: "Make it special." He made the doors, painted it brown (after trying a few other colors) and added some sweet old knobs to it. Turned out great! Less than I would have paid to buy this in a shop.

Before hallway

After hallway

She's from LA. An artist painted a bar stool and made it perfectly lovely as a table.

Bryan made me this coat rack with the same old knobs. Love.



These are from Seattle when I used to travel there a lot. My dream is to open a store like this one, Watson-Kennedy. French things everywhere. I used to do snow angels on the floor when I entered.

They look better on brick than wood, I think.

This shade came with the place and is a bit beat up. But I think I'll keep it and paint it a pretty color. Maybe a blue.

After spare bedroom (no before since it was a square, white box)

This is where I slept on my little cot for a month.

Much cozier now. Come and visit me in Sydney. This would be your room.

And your dresser.


And your hand-painted Burmese vanity (that Bryan added legs to for me - thanks, Bryan!)

I bought a little hand-stitched chair in the wine country to go with it. Matches nicely.

Hmmm... the shelf collapsed, its lopsided. What should I do? Birds! Birds will make it better.

Before stairwell

After stairwell (aka my office!)

These are little floor mats from Thailand. I love color and textiles so I had them framed.

I think they were $3 each, if that. Now why would you ever STEP on these!!!

The bowl is from Mexico, but I got it in LA (Rose Bowl, baby).

My desk! Its messy in there! That's why I got this one - it conceals your sins. And I admit, with regret, (similar to Phoebe on Friends), I got it at Pottery Barn!

I got this in LA too, at the Rose Bowl Flea Market, the market that makes my heart SING.

On the bottom it says, San Francisco Rose and would have been taken from an old bar in SF. How perfect?

I got it when I was babysitting my friend Jessica's (hi, Jess!) new dog, Liberty. She was PRECIOUS and melted my heart like butter. A break for puppy love:

Eating my feet

Playing with a rubber chicken (dogs are big fans of rubber chickens!)

Being on the bed with her Aunt Stephanie like she's not supposed to do (but I was a bad, bad auntie).

Back to the office:

My little utilitarian file, hiding below the staircase.

UNC, baby.

Little Suzani bench in front of the inner courtyard window

My stained glass piece (I made it, yay!) will go over the bench. When someone comes to help me hang it! Bryan framed it for me (as you can see, Bryan and I spent a lot of time together before I left SF).

Its prettier in the light:

I wanted to make something that looked old, so I searched and searched online and found some examples of old English stained glass and I printed photos of the windows, blew them up and then created this pattern.

Back to the apartment:

Little pastel of a church in Hvar, Croatia

Thank you for the Chrissy cards!

An homage to San Francisco - thanks, 3 Fish Studios

Pics of my best friends in Hvar, laughing at nothing and everything. It makes me smile - and remember that day in Hvar when it was raining and we hid at a little bar called Carpe Diem for hours, talking and drinking cocktails. It was a good day.

Before inner courtyard

After inner courtyard

Before bathroom

Just the skylight (still there, of course)

After bathroom:

I replaced the big bulky mirror with this dainty, pretty one. The wood needed some levity.

Do not touch the towels! They are for looky-loo only!

What's behing that curtain? Nothing.

Oops! I hid the washer/dryer.

Before dining room

After dining room

These paintings are from Kauaii, Hawaii... and artist's name is Fanny Bilodeau. :)

My barn door (table)

Chez Panisse's 32nd anniversary poster. Gosh I love a girl in pink gingham holding a chicken.

Before kitchen

After kitchen

A gift to my gay landlords. Love them.

I had a HUGE kitchen in SF. So it was a feat to get it all in here.

I plan on adding hooks here for my tea cups... like I had in San Francisco...

(from SF)

Every girl needs a rolling pin.

And cranked stained glass windows.

Rose's treat jar is waiting for her!

I made this spice rack. I hate spice racks! They're so UGLY. But I found this wire thing and then bought little creamer jars I found at Crate & Barrel. Then I called Martha Stewart and put some of her spice labels on them. Done & done! Now I need spices.

Adding a little color. Picked up the plates in Korea. Tins are from England (ordered online).

Bought these desserts on Etsy!

The one thing I do miss about my SF apartment is the stove. It worked and it was beautiful. Pine pine.

Beauty

Before patio

After patio

Susie, Susie, Susie. Thank you lovely girl for my beautiful patio set. Its vintage - iron and French. Could it BE more perfect? Thank you.

Some planters by the grill. Need succulents now.

Looking back into the place... wait! We forgot the upstairs!

Before bedroom

After bedroom

The warship part

My little bedside tables, there's 2. This pic taken in SF.

Little stand-up vanity from Healdsburg, wine country CA. Put my jewelry on it. Little dish from Whimsical Vintage's shop on Etsy.

Little Amish trunk bought in LA. When I had my yard sale in SF, a furniture dealer stalked me for this trunk for 2 days after seeing it in my apartment. No way, no how! Its my find. Its beautiful, old and very well-made.

And some purses for good measure. Purses, wallets and clutches - oh my.

No minute gone comes ever back again dye cut from England. Love this artist. This die cut was done by Robert Ryan and I'm dying to have more of his stuff. Frame from 2 Dogs Wood Working on Etsy!

Me & my little bro. When I was a kid I hated wearing anything but dresses because the minister's daugher at my church wore dresses. And she sat in the front row. And I wanted to be like her.

This is from Luang Prabang and one of my travel treasures. The Laotian village woman carry babies on their backs - in little papooses. Hill tribes like the Hmong make these little patches.

With beeswax, they make the molds.

And then they use natural dyes from plants.

Each of these was used by a woman when she had her baby.

I can't get over how much I love that! They were stitched together as a quilt and I could not resist! I love, love, love it. You can find more about textiles in Laos here. And some pics of their traditional dress (which I love - color/texture, remember).

Some examples:


A woman working with her "baby on board" from my trip to Luang Prabang:

So peaceful.

And another cute Laotian baby for good measure.

OK, back to the bedroom:

Same fabric as the other chair, just green.


1930's armoire bought in San Luis Obispo... it had a bed, vanity & side tables with it too and I kick myself for not buying the full set. Isn't she prety? She's prettier with her mirror....

Need strong man to help me hang this!

But I did buy her brother, Mr. Chest.

As I said, all in a good day's work.

Come and visit me, people. That spare bedroom has YOUR name on it. And yours.

Now I'm just waiting for Rose. And for this little portrait I had done of her to arrive. It captures her perfectly, even her little bunny ear and heart-shaped tag. Love you, Rose.

For the love of a dog. Thank you Studio1212 on Etsy!

Special thanks re: apartment hunting to Danielle de Silva of Delaks. I found her on SFgirlbybay.com (we have a similar obsession with design blogs) and she was SUPREMELY helpful with my move, sending me tips and even making a map of the best neighborhoods in Sydney. Thanks, Danielle!