I'm starting with the Madame in the mirror.

In an effort to stop tripping over my shoes give back to the world I had planned to do a massive closet purging soon.  How many vintage tshirts from the thrift store do I really need?  If I've kept a shirt since middle school does that count as vintage chic or just lame?  

Anyway after looking at the following pictures (via Mint) I really need to think bigger.  Much bigger...

Two artists (inspired by Peter Menzel apparently) have photographed families at home with all of their posessions out front. 

I basically own a smattering of shit and the ModSauce Ranch is one step up from a squatter's house with nicer curtains.  Or that's what it feels like...  The Madame has a few chairs, a table, a bed and a lot of shoes and purses I don't even use regularly (ok and a 2000 square foot house for one girl and a cat, a giant tool shed, a storage room of at least 10 boxes of Christmas decorations, extra dining chairs, a refridgerator box full of linens and 2 full sets of china because I'm a COLLECTOR!)  So I'm sure if I actually put all of my possessions on the front lawn in my head it would look like the above picture but in reality it would look like an episode of Clean House and Hoarders made sweet sweet love and shat out a messy baby of vintage furniture, cheap clothes and romance novels books about philosophy.  But then Niecy Nash could be its mom so that would be cool and worth it.  Somehow I don't think she would judge the excessive amounts of eyeshadow own.  They're called PRINCESSITIES!!

I own more types of shampoo than these people have corn cobs.  Time to reevaluate my scalp situation...

Ma Hongjie

FYI this really is what China looks like.

 

 

Huang Qingjun

Satellite dish + yert = automatic blog.  Fuck yeah Mongolia!!

I've gotta go have a quick chat with the Madame in the mirror and then open up that medicine cabinet and make some tough decisions about a few dozen bottles of lotion.

Vamptastic, Prosticute and full of Fabulosity.

In honor of the True Blood season finale last night and because I need to get a life I'm hilariously fun and inspired by really dumb shit I fake decorated some rooms.  I'm not really sure why this fake edecorating phenomenon hasn't caught on because the pay is rindonkulously good and there's no budget or bitchy clients telling you what to do.  Also you get to waste a lot of time at your real job doing it so it's a win on all fronts.  First up:

Bad Things by Modernsauce on Polyvore.com

Nothing says vamp chic like a decaying old antebellum house filled with fine Southern furniture. First, to hide your nocturnal activities you’ll need a comfortable settee in a dark stain-minimizing color and blackout curtains. A delicate slipcovered chair and feminine pillow say to your lady friend that you care deeply about her sensibilities right before you feed on her and deflower her on the rug in front of the fireplace underneath the picture of your dead wife from the 19th century. It’s sweet really. First though you should put her at ease by playing a friendly game of Wii Gold and drinking some Tru Blood which is the vamp equivalent of poppin one off before a date. Try to hide the stack of files from where you are researching her family history though. Nothing kills the mood faster than learning your fairy ‘gina is the object of an investigation. That or cracking your head on that fabulous reclaimed wood coffee table.

 

ring ring hooker by Modernsauce on Polyvore.com

However gentlemanly the previous room is, I much prefer a more relaxed environment like this one that positively screams 'sex on a stick.'  Straight up trampy, tacky and prosticute this hooker knows how to throw together a room like any true drug-dealing, gay whore son-of-a-psycho-witch that can cook up a mean hamburger with AIDS. Mmmhhh tangy. The room is an eclectic mix of voodoo dolls, found vintage furniture, religious shrines, shirtless werewolves and your laptap/webcam for another kind of nocturnal activity.  And nothing says Modern Whorish Revival like the always classy Fiorentino floor lamp.   You may have found that couch on the side of the road on the way back from your trick's house but you know where to spend the real money.  Including the Room & Board dresser because that's just a good quality piece of furniture.  You didn't get that fancy car you drive by being a dummy when it comes to purchases. 


I was going to design a wicked sex dungeon too but it pretty much just consisted of a dark basement, lots of chains, a stripper pole and a throne fit for a Viking warrior.  Also, I bet all you freaks have already "decorated" one in anyway.

For K!  And special thanks to @Paul_Anater and @SaxonHenry for their overwhelming knowledge of Whorish Revival.

Madame Sunday calls a construction dude.

*ringing*

MS: Hi John, my name is [a madame full of fabulosity] and I’m beginning a kitchen remodel soon.  [Friend of fabulosity] gave me your name and I wanted to set up a time for you to see the space and for us to talk about the project.  Please give me a call back at 1-900-FABULOSITY so we can discuss details.  Thank you.

*day later*

MS: Well… maybe he’s busy.  [Friend of fabulosity] did say he has multiple projects… 

Self: It’s barely been 24 hours.  He’s a professional not a booty call.

*another day passes*

MS:  Ok…  It’s not like I wanted him to start work immediately!  I just want to talk…  it takes me weeks to decide what I want to eat for dinner so I’m flexible with his schedule. 

Self: chillax bitch

*three days later*

MS: Ok it’s been 5 days.  In construction time that’s like a day and a half so I need to readjust my normal person calendar to reflect this alternate dimension.

Self: Right. Their axial rotation is slower so longer days genius.

*2 more days*

MS: do you think he got my message?  Was I using AT&T and didn’t know it?   I mean technology these days is so primitive and who can really be sure of anything…

Self: Maybe you spend too much time on twitter to remember that it’s a FUCKING TELEPHONE and messages don’t disappear like some mischievous fail whale out to sabotage your communications and embarrass you in front of gawd and everybody.  #omigodthatDMwasprivate

MS: You don’t know!!  Shit happens!

*another day*

MS: Do you think it was something I said?  Maybe my tone...??  I used my professional voice – the one without the redneck twang and giggles – to seem as serious as possible…

Self:  Are you sure?

MS: No.  Is this like the time I tried to buy a car and no one would help because they thought I was just joyriding all their most boring and dependable reasonably priced automobiles and loved having my credit checked for the hell of it?  Because it’s NOT!  I have money – dozens and dozens of money - and I want to give it to someone in exchange for some goddamn cabinets!!

Self: It’s exactly like that.

MS: Fucking sexist bullshit.

 

*5 minutes later*

MS: alright maybe he’s not a sexist asshole.  That was wrong of me.  I’m sure he’s a wonderful person.  Just a total fucking idiot.  How much clearer could I make it?   I – Want – You – To – Call – Me.  I can’t make it much more obvious!  I even did that eyebrow thing because even though he couldn’t see me on the phone he knows.  OH, he knows!  *nods knowingly*

Self:  I’m not so sure he does…

MS: Shit – how do I let him know that I’m really serious but not one of those crazy needy whiny clients?  I’m totally cool and casual  – I’ll buy beer and make cookies and stuff when needed…

Self: Well, how do you normally make your intentions known?

MS: So I need to call when I’m drunk?

Self: Put the gawddamn bottle down!

*3 days later*

 

MS: Ok maybe I without the giggles and twang my professional voice just came off like bitch voice.  No one wants to work with a bitch so I could totally understand why he wouldn’t call back.  Ya know,  I’m always like that – so demanding and bossy and it’s really a wonder I have any friends at all!  They’re just around to hang out with Charlemagne and use me for my vodka-soaked gummi bears and omigod I’m going to die alone and kitchenless in my hoarder house filled with old Elle Décor magazines and Starbucks cups and I’ll have to tie myself to a chair when I sleep at night to keep from falling into the mound of filth that surrounds me which is the metaphor for my wasted life and crushed dreams insulating me from the a world of fulfilled promises and nice cabinets!!!  *sob, sob, sob*

Self: Probably.

*5 days, 3 bottles of wine and 2 (ok 3) Caramellos later*

MS:  You know what?  Professional voice sometimes sounds a lot like phone sex voice because of the lower octave so maybe he’s not calling for another reason...  He WANTS to call TOO much!!!  Eh?!  Eh?!  *nods knowingly*  He was so stunned by the fabulosity that was positively dripping from my 20 second voicemail that he’s paralyzed with fear!  It happens a lot around the madame obviously…

Self: you’re drunk again right?

MS: …because of the pure shining awesomeness of my radiant feminine energy!  Mee-oowwwww.  Hell people can’t help it – it’s just biological.  You can’t fight nature.  And I’m 100% grass fed no-GMO all organic natural hotness that puts the fear of Hades into weaker men. 

Self: Do you mean moo?

MS: Shut your face hole. I’ll just wait for his nervous jitters to subside and then he’ll call…

*random time in the future*


MS: he’s not going to call is he?


Self: nope.


MS: FUUUCCKKK!!

This makes me exceedingly happy: the Slice of Heaven edition.

As part of the Let's Blog Off campaign that's sweeping the blogosphere, today the Madame is indulging in some fantasy which just so happens to be one of my favorite hobbies.  Squeeee!  We're supposed to name the place that is our own slice of heaven but I don't play by the rules because I'm a rebel.  A rebel in pajamas.  A rebel in pajamas and a few too many glasses of wine.   


I have yet to plant a flag in my own piece of heaven on earth because I'm sooo young and if I'd already found it then that would be no fun.  Also if it was only one place then that would really
suck because with my luck it would be some place that requires a 27 hour plane ride, a 2 hour bus ride, a donkey trek up the side of a mountain followed by an impossible test of skill (bicep curls?) and wit (math?) by a shaman all on the day of a special astrological even that only happens once every 68.5 years.  My diary would read like a J. Peterman catalog.  It'd be pretty hard to recreate that a few times a year when I want to get away so I dial it back to places that are within the means of a Sunday kind of madame.  My slice of heaven is simple - it just has to be any place that serves something that tastes like this:

blah blah creamy risotto with BACON but ANY pasta will do

Or smells like this:

we heart it

Or feels like this:

here

Breathes with possibility like this:

honeytree's etsy

Let's me learn (ahem... nap) like this:

we heart it

Has a soul (or ghost?!) like this:

Divine Decadence

Any place while turtle-dovin to this:  

Hell - riding bitch in an old pickup, listening to a fiddle, anyplace where I can hear this song, anywhere described in the song or anywhere from the video.  Fuck yeah three day weekend. 




On a blanket under this: (Dixieland Delight optional but doesn't hurt)

we heart it

Tells a story like this:

Courtesy of the madame floating by on the Ganges...

FUCK!!!  This whole thing reads like a redneck Eat, Pray, Love but you get the idea.  Ok now go check out all the other people and their heavens.  Bet they are a lot nicer than mine... heavenly fuckers.

Learning GrrAnimal

Last week while the Madame was perusing the blogs of my betters I read a post from Coffee With An Architect about Jack Kerouac's writing of "On the Road."  Of course I've never read that book because that would make me infinitely cool and I prefer to stay pleasantly mediocre.  Also I heard it was hard.  Aaaanyway, I learned me something cool because Jack typed the book on paper taped together to form one long giant scroll.  Pretty badass.  What's even more badass is that I happen to have a psuedo-scroll of my own but it has yet to change people's lives or make any money.  

Until now!  Because I can't seem to give up the past love reminiscing I agreed to post my scroll in the spirit of blogger solidarity.  BEHOLD!!!   *cue angels singing*

Fuck meh

Part of my senior treatise from ye olde ID school.  It's almost 11 feet of... well... nothing.  I spent awhile just writing and sketching about my project and living in fantasy land where that stuff matters in real life because what is school if not fantasy land?  My purpose was to design a big space that was entirely out of my range of skillz so I picked an interactive science museum.  Gawd, even typing that makes me the biggest lameass ever.  But I did get to tour a bunch of kids' museums, play in giant ball pits and check out planetariums (like at the Rose Center in NYC) so who's the lameass now huh??!!!  (Spoiler alert: it's still me)   

Unfortunately I had to cut the scroll from the rest of the roll of trash because I needed that paper for other more immensely important things like making tissue paper collages and sketching fantasy floorplans for the ModSauce Ranch. 

The first three feet or so is just me "writing" about what it means to really 'learn' things, exploring phenomenology, probably a few mentions of god, gestalt and a multitude of other self-indulgent bullshit .  You know, things I was really qualified to discuss and find a design solution for in 2 months at the age of 21.  *eyeroll*  

Most of the scroll was programming and sketching and conceptualizing which are really the only things I was good at in ID.  And even then it was kinda iffy...  But I did come away with some winners like these completely useless sketches:

Yeaaaaaah.  Bow chicka bow wow. *wiggles eyebrows* Look at that alley-thing with the uh... weird shading and... no point... and... oh gawd this is going to be really bad.

BOOOYAH!!!!  Fuckin "spirals." (?)

OMIGOD I CAN HARDLY STAND IT!!!  IT'S ANOTHER SPIRAL!!!!  Did I just blow your mind?!?!!!

??????  Ok I do like this one because it makes absolutely no sense whatsoever and for some reason I wrote 'Learning Animals' on top because it's a quote I probably read somewhere and it sounds deep. It IS a science museum after all!!  

But it's probably true - we're all a kind of learning animal.  I think I just happened to be a learning GrrAnimal at the time as evidenced by my childish attitude, enormously giant chip on my shoulder and the fact that I ended my college education in a fort.  Peace love and non-pants FTW!!  

I also ended my college education with these beauties: 

Yep.  Four years of education culminating in half-assed sketches of my interior thanks to senioritis.  Grrr indeed.  

While looking at the scroll of love I did happen to uncover a few more embarrassing winners from school...

Sadly, this headless and footless girl might be the best thing I've ever drawn.  Think I'll stick with my day job.

Jewelry and metalworking.  My true calling!!!   

 

I should lose a finger for even drawing this.

Ok this one's reaaaly embarrassing.  A poorly conceived chair that ahem.. may or may not have been inspired by 'Alice in Wonderland's' white rabbit....  Yea.  BUT then I saw this one day:

Kazuyo Sejima and Ryue Nishizawa's Rabbit chair from here

AHA!  Maybe I'm just horrible at marketing.  (ok and furniture design...)

Let's get back to what I like best - random sketches and pointy fabulosity.  As Jody pointed out it's just a long seamless burst of creativity until the paper runs out.  And I do like to doodle...  I might even learn something along the way.  Grrrrrr.

Just shut up and blog.

The Madame needs to quit with all the yammering sometimes and just bring the good shit.  I think I'm going to make t-shirts that say: "Just shut up and blog."  Maybe "Blog ur asterisk* off."   "Nobody puts Blogger in the corner."  "Blog THIS muthafucka" with an arrow pointing to my crotch for some reason...  I don't know I'm still working on it.  In the meantime here are some completely blog-worthy photos from Pia Ulin that I found via Design is Mine.  Let's see how far I can just show pictures before I have to interject something.

We know I like black... (Shit.  Not that far.)

Straight-up lickable kitchen.

Pink post-its!  Don't ask about 15ft high cookbooks...

Pardon me, I'm having a girl moment...

Camel pictures always get posted.  Always.  Is his tagelmust Pantone's color of the year?

Tophat and a dress in a lake!!!!

Sigh... buh-bye August.