So I'm just going to say it.
I'm really not liking Kdubs right now. I know. I just heard the gasps across the internet. Anytime someone questions the rock goddess of interiors a design student somewhere hot glues her fingers together and cries. As the type of madame who appreciates the ridiculous and pushes boundaries for sport I totally get her relevance. I know she reinvented Hollywood Regency and we all bowed at her feet and bought our Parsons tables, David Hicks knockoff fabrics and giant white ceramic animals like we wanted a fucking pet sematary de blanc in our foyers. But srsly. Things have taken a turn for the worse lately. A lot worse. A turn for some kind of psychotic kitty litter 80’s explosion worse.
Revolutions of style have to start with controversy somewhere before it's expunged of all inherent creative value on its way to the masses. Let's take a look at the source of the magical design spring where it all begins on top of Kdubs mountain complete with ASID fairies and frolicking decorator unicorns. It then trickles down to the valley of cheap knockoffs called Zgallerie and Target. I guess if I'm going to follow through with that metaphor they are the design equivalents of the mighty Mississip.
Check out the beach house below. Nothing says summer fun like a house full of beige.
But first let’s set the mood – Vogue said she listens to new wave constantly.* Why am I not surprised. I bet her young kids love it. (I totally made that part up about the kids. Let's just leave them out of this. Let's leave new wave out of this too because it's awesome. Just not 24/7.)
Oh gawd thing are not starting off so well. I'm know that's like kabillion dollar custom wallpaper but I'm pretty sure that those bitches over at Design on a Dime could do that for a couple of rolls of masking tape and some reject paint from Home Depot. In all honesty if you're going to do this kind of thing right you should just wallpaper the ceiling to at least continue the dried spaghetti explosion. Don't even get me started on the nightstands. Where's all the crap like my moisturizer, carmex, stash of Sour Patch Kids, Sarah Palin's new book, Walmart alarm clock and lube??? OHHHH it's hidden in the pyramid. Wait are those lamps? WTF? And of course use the mirrors to look at your bedhead and dried drool on your face first thing in the morning set against that wallpaper so you can start your day off right with a nice seizure.
Here's the dressing room. At least the walls are kind of a solid color to prevent further seizures. Ok there's a big head de blanc with Pippi Longstocking hair. I can dig it - he'll hold my bracelets. But... um... Pardon me for being a little slow. I certainly wouldn't want to offend anyone with my retarded questions but WHERE THE FUCK ARE ALL THE CLOTHES????!!!!! I don't even see a doorknob anywhere - am I going to die in here???!!!! Is that table one of those puzzles from Cracker Barrel that I have to put back together and once I solve it a secret door will let me out like some kind of Indiana Jones and the Vault of Couture? At least I'll have some strategical placed shoes to prance around in while I slowly starve to death.
Um... is that Andre the Giant's fossilized colon?
I don't know. I just... sigh. I don't know. The chair looks lonely and I'm pretty sure I'd get dizzy and disoriented from all the marble and cut myself on something in there - the broken console, the chair leg, the ART!
Ok things aren't all bad!!! A nice small vignette with lots of textures and shapes that doesn't make me want to have a seizure. Loving the fortress of solitude lamp. And you can never go wrong with Jenga. JEN-GA!!! JEN-GA!!! Once you touch it you can't keep your hands off of it!!!
Jesus Christ are you serious???!!! Did a scarecrow's head explode on the ceiling?? Is that some kind of jaw bone on the coffee table?? Why is there a little man stranded on some boxes over there? Somebody should help him get down so he can go play in the GIANT WRINKLED VAGINA LIPS CHAIRS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Gawdolmighty. I'm choosing not to even look at those monstrous chairs on the left. And that's saying a lot but only because the other seating in this room looks like GIANT WRINKLED VAGINA LIPS!!!!!! Fuckin A.
In case you're bored of beige and vaginas check out her new regular house. You know the one where she spends her non beach time.
Oh NOW you put the wallpaper on the ceiling! You can admire it from the vinyl? uh... foam? uh...quilted spandex? couch. At least you can put your feet on the coffee table because it's covered in old vinyl floor tiles. Design on a Dime I hope you're taking notes on this shit.
DOES IT EVER FUCKING STOP!!! You know I don't even use decorative pillows on the bed because I hate taking them off at night (I usually just prop them between my knees for lower back support or cry into them) so this whole dining table bust community really isn't working for me. Is that girl in white pooping in statue form??? Is there a special shelf where all these go while you eat or do they just watch you and silently judge your caloric intake?
BEETLEJUICE. BEETLEJUICE. BEETLEJUICE!!!!!!!!!!!!! Ok I think I'm starting to get it - she actually has a really good sense of humor and loves the 80's (uh duh look at the beach house above). ok. ok. I can appreciate zany - I love Tim Burton. But this room needs a lot more Delia Deetz and shrimp cocktail.
This is just exhausting. I thought we were cool at the Beetlejuice thing but now THIS???!!! Christ on a cracker. Just... gah.
Okay I'm done looking - my eyes hurt but my brain is fired up. I get that she likes bizarre. Bizarre is good. But every little fucking piece of fuckity fuck can't be bizarre in your house because too much of ANYTHING becomes bland. Bizarre has to have context. But bizarre on top of bizarre with no element of human habitation just looks post-apocolyptic with absurdly expensive wallpaper. You have to have contrast for the bizarre to actually feel special. In fact check out this passage I found on wikipedia when I was looking for ways to make the awesome blog title work:
Booyah! Herman Melville totally knows what I'm talking about. I think... wait. Shit. What the hell does that quote mean anyway?
... truly to enjoy bodily warmth, some small part of you must be cold, for there is no quality in this world that is not what it is merely by contrast. Nothing exists in itself. If you flatter yourself that you are all over comfortable, and have been so a long time, then you cannot be said to be comfortable any more.
— Moby-Dick, Ch. 11
Maybe these houses are just missing some fantasy. I'm not even really getting her trademark "wit" from these rooms. The Beetlejuice room and the geese chairs feel more forced than fun. Maybe her sense of humor is way above mine - I think this is funny. Or maybe Kdubs needs to start watching some Lady Gaga videos to see how it's done. Gaga ooh la la. What's the decor equivalent to those Alexancer McQueen shoes? If you say those fucking vagina chairs I will punch you in the neck.
So to sum up this rambling verbal river - I get it. Or get her I guess. But I don't like it. We all have to have our great white whale of design perfection that inspires us to keep working. That's the reason for all this blog nonsense and decor porn isn't it?
Really though all I want to know is can I get that whale in white ceramic for my foyer? It'll look great next to my wrinkled vagina chairs.
*Madame Sunday's note - try looking at everything without the music first. Kinda lame right? But the soundtrack definitely creates the necessary mood and I'm feeling not quite as harsh. But I've already written everything else and I don't feel like changing it. This is exactly why I do the music and room pairings to flesh out the pictures. I'm a creative genius!! I just might be somebody's white whale! Wait that's not what I meant...