Monday, June 28, 2010

Design Cliche: Easy, breezy, disgustingly hot white.

Blah, blah, blah it's fuckin hot.  Us Southerners are genetically evolved to hibernate in the summer come late July and August because no living creature should ever be subjected to temperatures in the 90's with matching humidity.   But the hawtness has come early this year (let's just blame BP - I don't know why just do it) and has rendered me virtually useless except for excessive daydreaming about Seagram's Gin yachting and naps billowing white linen.  Summer = white for obvious reasons like trying to keep cool in a thin ivory linen skirt that seductively highlights my white granny panties underneath (to keep with the white theme of course) but this year seems especially white-y.  But not in the racist way.  Just the normal 'white is an awesomely pretty non-color' way. I'm not racist of course - I already referenced Seagram's Gin in this paragraph for gawd's sake!  Oh fuuuuckk!!  THAT'S totally racist!  Moving on...

Anyway, since the dawn of time every designer ever to sashay around a Restoration Hardware has loved white. It's totally true.  I don't know how many of them I have heard profess that one day they want an entire room to themselves all in white.  It'll be next to that gift-wrapping room.  The Madame may or may not have also said those words...  It was probably the gin talkin.  There is something about all white that is just so fresh and breezy - just like a warm muggy summer wind up my linen skirt.  It seems so decadent to have a room specially decorated to defy all rational thought for daily living that it must be locked away in secret.  Like a padded cell or a sanctuary. Both probably.  What happens in there is of course a complete fantasy - there's no dust, footprints, greasy pizza roll smudges, wine stains, cat vomit or Cheetos residue  So fresh and so clean clean.

Charlemagne does look really good surrounded by all white - her fluffy fur contrasts quite well with my white West Elm Parsons desk and white gourd lamp.  I just blend in.

I'm not sure where the white on white look came from: 30's glam, post war European modern, MC industrial design, 60’s mod?  According to vintage science ficiton we imagined the future was all in white because future people don't have greasy fingers because Swiffer took over the world and genetically fused their cleaning power with human DNA so everytime future people touch something it cleans it.  Awesome. That's so much better than what The Matrix told me the future was going to be about!  (except for the underground raves.  That still sounds pretty damn cool.)



It's pretty and all but this lady should probably make Madame Sunday a palette in the floor to sit on so I don't dirty up her chairs with my common filth.  Do you remember reading a magazine editorial a few years ago about some prissy couple in NYC that had an all white apartment and they were so committed to keeping it all white that they would take off their dirty "city" clothes whenever they came home and put them into the laundry area right by the front door?  Well I remember it because I fucking hate them with every fiber of my being.



Ok I kinda like this one.  Except for the, you know, complete lack of any part of it that would work for my lifestyle that of course involves drippy pizza rolls in bed and grass-stained yard shoes walking on white floors that I would probably only Swiffer like once a month.  Damn you slow-to-realize future Swiffer technology!  Wait... I meant Madame Sunday is so glamorously divine that I don't even MAKE dirt!  I leave a streak of gleaming sunshine wherever I go. La la li laaa...


Black legs.


Sotogrande House from Design Milk
BLACK LEGS!!!!



Nacho Polo from Design Crisis
I need to tame the beast that is the influence of HGTV DIY bullshit that tells me I could do this with a can of spray paint and some thrift store frames.   It makes my index finger twitchy with crafty anticipation but also makes me *eyeroll* because this isn't a home it's a showroom.  A showroom where you are only allowed to wear socks on those alabaster floors.  






a white installation I got from somewhere but can't remember...
Monochromatic (especially white) makes any haphazard collection of stuff look artistic and design-y (and possibly Hoarders-y).  Just like my collection of Jonathan Adler vases, Hollywood Regency blanc de chine and cotton ball collages.


InsideOut 
Somewhere along the way white became farmhouse shabby chic and even if you wanted that style dead like a 1000-year-old vampire burned in the sun it's still rearing its undead head as evidenced in this NYT article. I don't put that shit on MS so this is the closest you'll see - it has multiple tulip bases so I thought we'd be safe.  I'm not sure what farmhouse I've ever seen that could work as a completely white space - maybe one that was not actually near a farm in any capacity. 





From the West Elm catalog this summer. 
We're all about white this 2010 because everyone decided to become born-again virgins after the last few years full of drama, recessions and general sluttin around.  And just like in the real world when you recommit to "virginity" by slapping on a purity ring of some kind and saying "Dear Jesus, my bad!" we can just buy some white pillows, conveniently forget about whatever we don't like and pretend we all live in a fantasy land full of innocence and purity and Swiffer fingertips .  Even Young Jeezy is going white!


Actually we CAN just do that because this editorial is so fuckawesome I just forgot what day it was let alone what happened in our design conscious over the past few years.  Behold the power of the collective trend.




These ladies are so fresh and clean clean now they don't even remember the housing slump, Bernie Madoff or that Michael Jackson died. Sssshhhhhh!!  Don't remind them...








Vogue Italia from Refinery 29
Ahhhh.... like a refreshingly muggy summer breeze of purity and innocence up my skirt. 

Sunday, June 20, 2010

This makes me exceedingly happy.

Charlemagne and Madame Sunday in an alternate universe.

From the badass site Thrillarena that documents early 20th century motor drome stunts.   Like driving a car in really fast circles with a deadly lion next to you.

Or driving a motorcycle perpendicular to the floor while riding sidesaddle and with no hands.


Or in a globe of death wearing only a bathing suit (?).

Suck on that, Gravity.  

Meow.

Thursday, June 17, 2010

They're only guilty pleasures if you ACTUALLY feel guilt.

If you've learned anything from reading ModSauce it's don't drink and blog don't be ashamed of what you love.  Unless you love chalkboard walls.  Or bar carts.  And even then the Madame doesn't really care as long as you have a box of wine nearby.  Actually I take great pleasure in the horrible, the ugly, the tacky, she says as she sets down the plate of Totino's Pizza Rolls next to the collection of shell animals.  Here is a list of things that I shouldn't like but do.  No-no's just became yes-yes's.

I think this is going to read like a white trash manifesto...

For starters, this print.  Normally I can't stand shit like this - it's girly, blurred like a Barbara Walter's camera lens and looks like my grandmother threw up on etsy.  But I love it.  I don't want to buy it but if I took that picture I'd totally squee.



stax&cane (NSFW!) via ffffound
Neck tattoos.  They're pretty much like saying "Fuck you 401k"  but I happen to find them quite delicious.  I think this Crispen Glover guy either wants to start a gang fight or make out.  I'm dfw.  I think he's dfw too except if it involves a committed monogamous relationship with a classy Madame.  Let's give it a go but stay out of my investment portfolio you sexy loser.



The movie Hot Rod.  It's horrible.  I'd watch it every day of my life if possible.  After lunch we should have a designated Hot Rod:30 every day - like a siesta.  But for idiots.   I would have said Talladega Nights but honestly that movie is so awesome I can't really find anything to be ashamed of by liking it so it doesn't make the cut for this post.



a tumblr somewhere?
Speaking of hot rods - I don't usually give a shit about cars because I'm a lady person that completely despises all forms of sexism and discrimination unless they work in my favor like avoiding the draft, not paying for meals on dates or understanding cars.  But this is a sexy ride of vintage fabulosity in orange and blue looks like it might be in Mongolia which is pretty much all of my favorite things rolled up together.




Just shut your gawddammed mouth right now.



from flickr
Trailers.  I like the real ones the most of course but these tiny plastic models for a vintage train set are equally awesome.  I own this model just for shits and giggles.  My native South is the trailer's natural habitat and you will find them often scattered amongst quarter million dollar houses (because property value is irrelevant to hillbillies) or gathered all together in herds.  As gawd intended.






Psychics.  I don't believe in Jesus but I'm totally down with mind-readers and clairvoyants because those people are the real guardians of my soul.













Lonny magazine.  I shouldn't like it - it's cliche, unoriginal and tries just so damn hard (and succeeds) in making most bloggers cream their design panties.  But I don't care.  It's girl porn of over-the-top cliche styling, bad lighting and forced appeal which is perfectly fine once a month.  Or special occasions.  I am fully aware that lucite is the decor equivalent of acrylic stripper heels but that doesn't mean it won't make my legs look longer or my coffee table more stylish.  DON'T JUDGE ME!!!  Also it's totally free - like the fanciest blog content ever and we all know the blogs are the most awesomenest things of all times and deserve gold medals in the Fabulosity Olympics.


I don't think anybody is giving out medals for obsessions with neck tattoos or amount of pizza rolls consumed but if there is somebody let me know.

Sunday, June 13, 2010

But when I do this it somehow looks like white trash...??

I think we can all agree it's about mixing patterns this year.  Thank gawd.  Now I don't have to look like such a freak for having a sexy picnic on top of every vintage sheet I've ever bought.


Or when I wear my Halloween wigs throughout the year.


With flesh-colored knee highs.




One night a young Madame Sunday and friend decided to draw all over our legs with marker for some unknown reason but it probably involved a lot of rainbows, peace signs and boredom (we didn't drink yet obviously.  On second thought, that sounds more like something I WOULD do after drinking... but I digress).   Maybe we were high off the permanent marker because we didn't think ahead of our dresses required for the next day's 8th grade graduation ceremony in front of the whole school.  It did not wash off.  Or look this hot.


There may have been some sunflowers too...  Fucking early 90's Clinique perfume bullshit.




Just goes to show that winged eyeliner, a spit curl and a attitude of fabulosity makes EVERYTHING look good.  


Except for white trash 8th grade graduation horrors.  There was no saving that hot mess.

All images via ffffound from this awesome but probably NSFW site here.  

Saturday, June 12, 2010

The Madame is a "writer" now. You know, of words.

Turns out this is a pretty damn good week for the ModernSauce team.  Charlemagne just gave me a decapitated bird (awwww...), cool people handed Madame Sunday some fancy shit because they think I'm awesome (shut your facehole) and other cool people want me to write on THEIR blog.  WTF?  Remember when it was just me, you and some ninja references?  Oh how far we've come...



Building Moxie is a great blog that talks about home stuff and building-y things.  Also, fucking POETRY!  I dare you to find another blog like that.  They decided to go slumming they needed some sparkling glamour and asked if I could share some of the ModSauce fabulosity with them.  I was happy to oblige.  I'm a giver really.  I wrote a heartwrenching, soul-fondling and slightly embarrassing post about the Madame and her drill.   



Don't worry - the fame hasn't gone to my head.  I'm still just the madame from the block.

Thursday, June 10, 2010