Iron Maidens and Cotton Skulls

I wish I was clever enough to make all this up but I'm not - it's all true.  Meet Boo Davis (best name ever) and her quilt company known as Quiltsryche (insert umlaut for best company name ever).  It's like Gee's Bend took a field trip to Seattle and got stuck in a mosh pit for awhile.

Bangover

I have a special place in my heart for quilting and needle crafts probably because I'm a genteel Southern lady who appreciates heritage crafts, fine details and a good deal at my local thrift store.   There's also a special place in my heart for a bit of Metallica.  

Beastie prototype

 Boo says:

Quiltsryche [insert umlaut] is my evil quilt studio.  I make modern heirloom quilts just like your metal-loving, half blind Grandma would.  

My Grandma might make a quilt that says 'HIPPIES BURN IN HELL' but I bet if I asked her nicely she would quilt some Rage Against the Machine lyrics for me if I didn't explain what they meant to her.  

Does Not Compute

Robot love.

Love It or Leaf It

Skullfucked 3

Skullfucked 1

Basketcase

Or if you wanted something a little less death metal (pussy) there's always something like this:

Quilt in the Headlights

I'm A Wiener

But I know you'd rather have this one:

Rock Out

If you had your Grandma quilt it upside down maybe you could get away with it...  More images at If It's Hip, It's Here.  


Oh yeah, and rock out with your cock out this weekend.  I don't really know what the lady version of that is...  Spaz out with your vag out???  It just doesn't have the same ring to it.   Y'all be thinking...

The content of this post is awesomer than any witty title I can come up with.

I can't tell if I'm accidentally drunk on Listerine again or there's a carbon monoxide leak in my house because I've been staring at these animated gifs for about three years.

Or maybe the artist and computer badass Francoise Gamma is the one who's drunk.  Either way it's a win.

And by 'win' I mean creeptastic undulations of binary code orgasms.

AAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!  YEESSSSS.

I always do the robot much better in an 'altered' state of being but I think this square dude still is better than me.  Just let me have another shot of carbon monoxide and we'll get this dance-off really started.

Just some man-teriors p0rn

While recently reading my favorite online skateboarding mag defgrip (yeah...  I wouldn't say a regular reader) I found a collection of images from the latest dynamic design duo Roman and Williams and it made me sit up a bit straighter.  They've designed the interiors for the Ace and Standard hotels - I think there's a line of bath accessories and a store in Brooklyn.  Look I'm not an encyclopedia!!  You can google it if you're interested but I'm not going to buy anything there or stay at those hotels so I'm not gonna waste my time on creating hyperlinks you're not going to click on anyway.  But maybe y'all readers are fancy so you can afford it but since you're reading this blog I'm gonna go with NO you're not so don't worry about it. 

 I know these images are mostly old and slightly cliched but seeing them all together kinda makes me tingly.  The power of numbers.  Well, except if you're watching Sister Wives and then 'more' is just fucking weird.  And that's saying a lot because the Madame has a really high tolerance for weird shit.  

And since we've seen all these maybe it's like a farewell to this look.  Or not.  I really like this black masculine thing...  And the Beat light...  but let's agree to work on the forced staging.  It's kinda counter-intuitive to the man vibe.  

I know, I KNOW - shells and stuffed heads and thrift store gallery walls - but if you take away your blog filter because you spend waaaaay too much time reading design blogs then you'd like it.  Maybe.  But there's no filter that can sort away the fuckery of Sister Wives from my mind.  

It's like they said "I see your standard cowhide rug and I raise you a sabertooth yeti."

I dig it but really needing a lucite box filled with girly things to set somewhere...



from DwellStudio

Those two black kitchens are new to me and I don't care what you say they are straight up sexy.  I need to completely start over on my kitchen plan.  Well I am going with black floors so it's kinda like I'm already there.  High five Madame.

That picture is hawtness.

You know you like it... Also, there are corvids in the top left ftw.

I still kinda like these two even though these pics are played out and all that shit piled up makes me *eyeroll* but let's just pretend we have maids.  You can also play a fun game by trying to count the number of vintage fans, architectural files and oddly shaped wooden chairs you see in their spaces.  Who ever gets the most wins a ModSauce door prize.  (It's just a button you can pin on your jean jacket that says "Shut up and blog" but it's still pretty awesome.)

Ahhh the white is nice even though I don't understand that monolithic block of a range hood...??  Just put your thumb over it.

last two from Desire to Inspire

Whoa!!!  Can.  Not.  Compute.  I guess when they pick a theme they really go for it.  Just think how many sister wives you could fit on those ottomans.

This makes me exceedingly happy.

Sophisticated Simplicities 

Buh-bye hellish summer temps and scorched grass.  Hello gentle weekend nights.

Hangin Tough: Avian Style

Antlers can suck it because the new kids on the block are FEATHERS!!!  Not too 'in your face' and in every magazine spread though - they're not the gay flashy ones like Jordan or Joey of NKOTB - I think they're more like Danny.  Still pretty cool but not so obvious.  (Yet... ) People always thought he was the ugly one but I thought he was the hot one -  the loner, the outcast, the quiet "hipster" one if you will and that's much more my cup of Kool Aid.  But he was still insanely rich, mildly talented and you wouldn't kick him out of your 10 yr old birthday party if he happened to show up just like you wished for when you blew out the candles on that Dairy Queen ice cream cake.  


Maybe I'll soothe my crushed dreams with some retail therapy.  

John Derian tray and feather print from Moodboard

But probably not with the John Derian stuff at Target.  

Lizzy Janssen tank

Better.  Do you think Danny would like this?

xJavierx's flickr

Peacock forever.  (But I like that chair better...)

Graham & Brown's wallpaper

I could always wallpaper something... (spoiler alert: I won't)

Anna Betts print via Design is Mine

Or I could craft some with my stunning watercolor skills like these.  

Golly Bard print

I've painted leaves so it's like the same thing.  But with more polka dots.  Done.  This is what everyone's Christmas present is going to look like.  Except probably not so cute... but it doesn't mean I love you any less just that I'm probably too busy blogging and wasting time on the internet  looking at aging pop stars to really give it 100%.    

JodyvanB at etsy

I probably have a fondness for feathers because I used to go to a lot of drag shows Charlemagne loves to bring me dead and mutilated birds from the neighborhood to show she loves me.  Normal people might like teddy bears and roses but getting bloody feathers is like a big hug from a diva kitty.  Awww....  I know Danny feels the same way and is really gonna love my special care package I'm making him.

decor8

Or I could break out the R890444 Camera of Amazing Awesomeness and take some up close and personal pictures to start my etsy business.  I've got to pay for this kitchen remodel somehow and if feathers are trending up I'm gonna make some serious bank on shit like this.

But my fake xmas watercolors and that tank top are blown out of the water by this art by Kate MccGwire found via My Love For You Is A Stampede of Horses.   

Artist's statement:  

Kate MccGwire's work asks questions about the very nature of beauty. She's intrigued by the possibility of envisaging beauty as something more complex than merely what delights the senses: beauty can be about a problem; it can be something that repels you or makes you question the status quo. The idea that it is a cultural phenomenon, susceptible to argument through the creative process, fascinates her.

Much of Kate's work references Freud's 'Unheimliche' (the uncanny, or, literally, the 'unhomely'); the idea, to quote Freud, of 'a place where the familiar can somehow excite fear'. 

My Love For You... here

here

Maybe it's just me but in my head I can totally hear these things moving around and writhing against each other.  I'M NOT DRUNK!!!!  I could probably talk about what's wrong with that feeling and what's right about the artist's statement for hours but I'm tired and have to get started working on my Christmas presents and restalking Danny.  

 

An excerpt from the catalog describing this series:

Horrifyingly beautiful, the installation suggests a new (or perhaps ancient) and menacing presence eminating from the cast iron oven. Coiling, pluming and creeping through the kitchen, the work feels weighty, meaty. The visitor at once is taken by the gorgeousness of the piece itself - the assemblage of 'common' feathers presented as something completely exotic - and the shame involved in discarding objects of beauty for a perfunctory dinner.

 Hhhmmmm....

My Love... here 

I could probably talk a few more hours about beauty, food and female domesticity which is what this one makes me think of but shame?  Well, I think I'll probably feel more shame when I'm arrested outside of Danny's house in some acid-washed jeans, feather tank top and a walkman trying to recapture my youth and excite some fear with my use of "familiar" (yet bloody) feathers in my NKOTB collage showing Danny and the Madame in love forever and ever and ever...  

And by shame I mean victory. 

I'll gladly stick that feather in my cap.

The American Dream: ModSauce style.

The Madame hasn't even been an adult a full week and already I'm moving up the ladder of fabulosity.  Just look:

Gawddamit now I'M fancy!

It's just like I always wanted!!!!  My L-U-X-U-R-Y box squeed with excitement when I was handed this for my birfday.  But this is better than those stupid boxes you get with thousand dollar scarves inside, this was CRAFTED by some friends in fabulosity who happen to be loyal readers.  That's the first requirement for being my friend... are you literate but have low expectations?  Good.  Have an internet connection? Great.  Here's some homework reading for you.

Even Charlemagne is attracted to that color.  She knows.

Apparently, through a few degrees of separation, I know someone with an actual Hermes box.  I feel like a celebrity!   For all of your future crafting pleasure that box was matched to Benjamin Moore's Rumba Orange which was then expertly applied to the highest quality cardboard container that Hobby Lobby carries.  Nothing but the best for me.  

Even the logo is correct.  Details are important when you're faking it.  And another requirement for being my friend.

You can put anything inside that orange box and it becomes Hermes: a pit-stained wife beater and some chicken McNuggets in a Rumba Orange box = *air quotes* Hermeesss *end air quotes*.  I got lucky because this one had two "Hermes" pillow shams hand-quilted and straight from Hawaii.  Smells a lot better but doesn't taste as good.  

They're kinda like Mexican tenangos but more American.  Well, if you consider Hawaii American.  I'm pretty sure it's like a different country over there.  Do they even have rednecks over there?  There's nothing more American than rednecks.  


Except for two legally married homosexuals taking something expensive and trying to fake it with crappier materials.   And a lot of heart.  

Madame Sunday is a growed up.

So the Madame is on vacation this week.  Not a real one that involves sand and mixed drinks… well, there ARE mixed drinks on this one actually.  I’m spending a nice week at home because I’m turning 30 today!  Double squueeeee!  Normal people like to mark special occasions like this by doing exciting things like climbing a mountain or catching STDs in Mexico but Madames don’t climb mountain and if I’m going to have to take antibiotics after visiting a foreign country it better be some place a lot awesomer than a two-story Senor Frog’s in Cancun.   Also I’m buying myself a new kitchen for my birthday and that’s really the gift that keeps on giving without aching thighs, alcohol poisoning or intestinal parasites.

I'm only wearing a birfday hat because there's cake hiding underneath it.

I’m actually pretty excited about my *cringe* staycation – it’s cheap, I get to be lazy and mediocrity will no doubt ensue.  All of my favorite things!  Triple squee!!  I’m going to eat cake for breakfast, mashed potatoes for lunch and bacon for dinner.  Ahahahahaha just kidding!  I’m drinking my dinner. 

I have no plans other than sleeping late and shopping for shoes and backsplash tile.   I’ll spend my nights out enjoying the “nightlife” of Chattavegas, watching Talladega Nights for the thousandth time and waiting to see if Margaret Cho slips in a pussy joke on Dancing with the Stars.  Welcome to the rest of my life.  I like to live on the edge.  This all may seem quite lame but the good thing about growing up is that you don’t really give a shit anymore about what other people think.   Yippee!!  All the anxiety and worrying that happened at 29 22 are slowly loosening their vice grip on my life...  like my completely irrational fear of using the drive-up tellers at the bank because I can't handle the pressure of putting the correct information in that damn tube with a bunch of cars behind me while I fumble with that one red button and ancient technology that I know I will mess up thereby dropping the tube and with it my money, drivers license, high school transcripts, 5th grade class picture, passport, latest health report and 15 yogurt lids will go rolling into traffic only to be crushed by speeding cars while I have to watch in horror while people behind me honk and curse my very existence.  OR the imaginary underground pneumatic tube monster will somehow steal my deposit en route and then I’ll blame the teller for stealing my money and SAT scores and she’ll point her fake nail at me through that window, squint her Tammy Faye eyes and yell through the microphone that I messed up and to get the hell out of the lane because I’m blocking traffic and I’ll be forced to wait for her in the parking lot until the bank closes and throw down because nobody, I repeat NOBODY, makes a fool of me and steals my cereal box tops without expecting me to come at them like a spider monkey all while that damn underground tube monster giggles in delight at the mayhem he’s created and I don’t like to give him the satisfaction so I DON’T use the drive-thru tellers period.  That goes for pharmacies too.  Fuckers.

But now that I’m 30 all my fears have been wrestled to the ground like demon cobras.  That or I just don’t give a shit anymore about causing a traffic jam at the drive-thru lane (see above above not giving a shit).  I didn’t have a list of cute fun things to accomplish by this date because I would have procrastinated anyway and then I’d be forced to travel to 30 different states within a few days and I’m not fucking Santa Claus and then I’d just feel really shitty about all the things I DIDN’T accomplish rather than how many things I HAVE done.   And I’ve been lucky to have done a lot - I've traveled all over the world, met some amazing people in fabulosity, bought a home and finally figured out that I really should never EVER wear yellow.  Big things.  But, I would have preferred if I had some decent furniture by now.  And knew how to shoot a gun.  And figured out how to fix my hair.  Meh...  I've got time.  

But bigger than any bucket list of my youth, I get to say goodbye to my 20s.  Fare thee well old friend.  We had some good times.  We also had a lot of bad times.  I'll miss your playful abandon but I won't miss all the drama and crippling neuroses (see above) that came with it.   20s are for figuring out who you are so you can actually be that person in your 30s.  If somebody comments that they figured out who they were by like 24 I swear to gawd I'll scissor kick you in the back of the head.  But it's totally fine to tell me I won't know anything until I'm 40.  That kind of condescending attitude is exactly how I talk to people who are 19.  It's the circle of life.

Think I'm gonna put on my favorite Crystal Gayle tshirt, go deposit my grandmother’s $10 birfday check using the drive-thru teller and then go eat some more cake.  

I gonna make this decade my bitch.