Nothing trumps zombies. Unless they come in fun striped colors.

So first there were the vintage arrows:


here

I do kinda like them although any way I would think to display them makes me look like a douche so I'll just admire the pictures.

That didn't stop the crafty DIYers though:

here

I bet you a 5 lb bag of Sour Patch Kids somebody on etsy has a listing for painted striped rocks or spools of thread or something and they're selling them for $25.   

And then industrial designers found a sale at Ace Hardware...





here


The designer of these $350 axes deserves to be punched in the throat but, sadly, I do kinda want one...  you know, for all my chopping fabulosity.  But I hate myself for it.

I barely step foot in the sunshine but on the rare occasions when I'm outside doing yardwork I've actually broken three shovels.   As in the thick wooden handles actually snapped in half under the tremendous power of my meaty arms.  I was just doing normal things like digging holes and shit and not playing the "see how long I could beat the shovel against my driveway before it breaks" game.   If I bought an axe like this and in an emergency situation such as the zombie apocalypse and I was trying to chop the head off of the dozens of zombies that were coming to eat my brains and the axe broke I think I'd be rather perterbed.  I might have to write a saucy letter to the manufacturer and mail them the broken shards packed with my own entrails because OMIGOD MOTHERFUCKIN ZOMBIES JUST ATE MY BRAINS BECAUSE I SHOP IN THE RAINBOW BRITE TOOL DEPARTMENT!!!!!!


I could always just paint some sticks...



here



But arrows and sticks and dumb tools are all trumped by these:



here

BLADOW!  It's a crafty trend painted on a hipster trend.  You can't even trump bones.  I dare you.  I think Teenangster just jizzed her pants.

This makes me exceedingly happy

I've been super busy lately preparing my stomach for the gastronomical feats coming up in a few days and having dirty fantasies about cornbread dressing so this is all I can muster right now.  But it's worth it.  You might want to clear off your schedule for the rest of the day because you're going to be watching this on repeat ad infinitum.

via BOOOOOOOM

Whistle while you twerk today!

Happy Blogiversary to MEEEEEEE!!

Pop open that box of wine you’ve been saving for a special occasion and put on your fancy manties because ModernSauce turns 1 this week!  SQUEEEE!!!  Twelve months ago I was just a lazy girl laying on a couch with a laptop and NOW I'm a lazy 30 year old laying on a couch with a laptop that's starting to get really really hot on the bottom sometimes.  Totally fine right? 

I really had no goal for this blog other than I needed an area to both organize all the visuals I collect (it's cleaner than Hoarders) but also a place to document all the conversations I was having in my head.  I figured it would quiet my brain and neatly save my ramblings for future therapists generations to study in the form of deep cerebral analysis of purty interiors, creating lame mood boards to satisfy my creative itch and sharing the (sloooow) remodeling of the ModSauce Ranch.  I feel that I have accomplished everything and nothing.  Everything because the rewards far surpassed what I could have imagined and nothing because I have tons more bullshit to talk about.

Here's some actual praise I've received from this past year:

"yeah I read it."
Whoa, slow down there with your enthusiasm friend!!  Wouldn't want to get a big head...


“seems so…. honest”
Welcome to the real world, y'all.  *middle fingers point to my crotch*


“no seriously, you're so gawddamned honest”
Alright, ALRIGHT.  I get it.  Apparently I'm weird...




“your style is so jizz on jesus”
ahahaha wait...  the fuck? ew....  Are you reading the right blog?




“you're hot and scary”
If you only knew but Ok whatever I'll take it because it's obviously the nicest thing anyone's ever said about ModSauce. 




But for reals you guys are awesome and I appreciate every tweet and reference and comment - ESPECIALLY the ones above - and I'll be giving special thanks to you in a few weeks when I stuffing my face full of turkey and dressing.  I send you all rainbow rides of tingling pleasure and glitter kisses.  When I'm not answering your adoring fanmail I've managed to find the time to learn 10 concisely enumerated things this year too and it's my duty to pay it forward and all:




1. If I devoted the amount of time I spend blogging, reading blogs, reading shitty blogs trying to find cool things to blog about, tweeting, reading your tweets, stalking other online people, etc. on something more productive like working out or volunteering I’d be curing cancer just from the sheer power of my incredibly high and tight ass. In fact, my ass would be so high people would start calling it back boobs.  Instead you get boogers and goblins.  *curtsy*


2. Blogging allows you to learn all kinds of things about yourself that you didn't know.  For instance I talk about glitter waaaaay more than it is present in real life. *she says as she closes her supplemental makeup back only reserved for Halloween, costume parties and weekly dress up parties with Charlemagne*  Same goes for unicorns.  But the amount of 'fucks' I say is probably the same.

 3. You will discover that you are way stupider than you might have thought.  Every other blog you read is a bajillion times smartier and funnier than yours.  Get over it.  Pretty sad considering I used to be relatively smart at one time but now it's virtually impossible for me to write a complete sentence. Or write one that doesn’t start with a preposition.  I'm also a horrible speller which I only discovered after having to use dictionary.com twelve times before completing a single tweet and I STILL type "ur" because fuck, 140 characters is short!  Thanks a lot public education. 


3B. Not only are other bloggers all better than you, your commenters are funnier and cooler too.  There's nothing that describes the feeling like being intimidated by your own comments section.  Well done, readers.  In fact the best part of my post is usually in the comments.  If you're a blogger and all your comments are "oooh I love it!" then you're doing something wrong.  Unless you want those types of comments but if you need that much constant adoration I would suggest getting a puppy and not a blog (although they both require about the same amount of attention but one doesn't pee on your rugs - your choice).  That being said I can't wait for my first negative comment where somebody calls me a bitch or says I'm stupid and I get to humiliate them in return.  But they'll probably pussy out and post as "anonymous" but I'll do it anyway.  Sadly, I still squee my panties for every single comment. 


 4. I have about a hundred fifty-leven more readers and twitter followers than ACTUAL friends. I'm not sure though because I suck at math which was another thing I was made painfully aware of this year.  Of course my readers are totally my friends now (you ARE aren't you??!!!  AREN'T YOU?????!!!!!) because you'd be surprised how few of your friends actually read your blog.  Once you tell them you've started a blog most react like you told them there was a sale on cans of artichokes at the grocery store. 



5. The act of blogging is just as important (for me) as the content.  Once you're a blogger you're in a special club.  It's like being in a rock band except a band requires no talent but still gets you tons of groupies.  I guess it's like being in Nickelback.  Except I'm prettier than Chad Kroeger.  As far as you know...


 6. The interwebz are a much friendlier and awesomener place than I ever thought.  I'm one of the few people on the planet who isn't on Facebook because I don't give a shit about the rednecks I went to high school with (I can just go down to Big Lots if I want to reconnect) and I was rather creeped out by social media and so-called online "connections."  So my blog was secret for awhile.  But then I met people and realized that you guys are all exceptionally nice AND batshit crazy!  Such a fun combo.  So now I have friends I met online and I tweet like a mofo and this social media crow that I'm eating doesn't taste bitter at all.  It tastes like KFCKKDD sandwiches and shiny faucets. 


 

7. If you blog it, they will come.   The "content is king" belief is something I subscribe to because, well, I have no other skills in marketing and self-promotion makes me vomit.  But writing stupid shit makes me exceedingly happy and I'm selfish in that I make me happy first.  But having little conversations in your head is like this build up of energy that you MUST release and once you blog it’s an orgasmisplosion of awesomeness (to be determined...) and then your mind is clear and you can go to sleep.  Until the itch begins to build again.  (This sounds a lot less sexy and a lot more like Dexter than I thought...)  But if you're smart you'll do other things like "keyword optimization" or stuff like that and not rely on your own personal afterglow to inspire others to find you like I do.  Or not - it worked for Kevin Costner and I may not be Chad Kroeger but I'm way closer to the Kevin Costner in that baseball movie where Ray Liotta looked hot. 


8. Inspired living tip of the day: Secretly shoveling luke warm mashed potatoes in your mouth directly out of the pan on the stovetop after you've already had dinner is one of life's greatest pleasures.  Also there are no calories.  Honestly, I already knew a long time ago but I just wanted to make sure you knew this too.


9. Sharing your innermost secrets (like your irrational fear of drive-thru tellers) or that you like to shove luke warm mashed potatoes in your mouth when no one is looking is in no way as lame or scary as you might think and is actually quite liberating.  If, once you learned about my secrets, still think it's lame then the joke's on you because I have soo much more where that came from!!  Wait...


10. I don't have a tenth one because I'm a rebel who doesn't follow my own rules but I'm totally all about the keyword optimization for ModSauce in year dos so suck on this: "10 things about blogging you wish someone had told you before you started," "naked pictures of Miles Redd" and "how to get wine stains out of your couch again."  BOOYAH!!  I search for those things all the damn time so I KNOW others do too and my traffic is getting ready to explode!



To bring this thing full circle I planted a ginkgo tree last year at my first post hoping for delicious autumnal foliage in 2010.  Well that didn't happen because we had an insane drought this year and my tree is left with this:




sorry, burned leaves, I tried to water you but meh...

The good thing is that my extra judge-y neighbor is now in an old folks home so I can relax a little without her 98 yr old attitude all up in my biznass.  And yeah, that's a sad arrangement of some decorative gourds, motherfuckers.

Thanks for making this year great and fingers crossed there's plenty of afterglow to go around for another year. 

This makes me exceedingly happy

I squeed so hard I broke something.

BAM!!!

The location78 house via Desire to Inspire. 

Drinking is really the only reason I'll watch HGTV anymore.

Next week I'll be starting plenty of ModSauce kitchen posts but right now I just feel like getting friendly with the bottom of a bottle.  The search for a contractor is driving me to drink, y'all.  These fuckers don't know what kind of drunk strong lady person they're dealing with.  Obviously they haven't seen my Klout score.  And they obviously don't know what it means to itemize a bid either since I think everyone around here seems to conduct business on post-it notes and the backs of envelopes. 

Fucking rednecks.  

Gawd love 'em because I sure as shit are hating them right now.

Instead of drowning my sorrows, I'd like to think about getting drunk over a contractor that everybody likes and just fixes things like magic: Mike Holmes.  Awwww....  *blushing giggle*  I may or may not watch episode marathons and have dirty fantasies of clean bare stud walls, properly tiled floors and other examples of finely detailed craftsmanship all done in the course of an hour because that's just like real life, right?  RIGHT???!!   Mmmmhhhh...  I can almost smell the joint compound.  *shivers*



here

Oh I need some of that!!  BLADOW!!!   No seriously, is that trim he's cutting?  I need new baseboards in the kitchen for realz.  But only about 18 inches of it.  I'm sure it'll have to be custom for some reason.  And cost $500.

Yeah, these are the things I lust over now.  FUCK YOU HGTV for ruining not only my design sensibilities but also my normal fantasy life!!!!  Also every time you masturbate god kills a kitten so there's that.

Watching a billion episodes of Mr. Mike leads one to drunk fantasies notice certain patterns.  So I invented the Holmes on Homes drinking game.  I mean, we were all drinking anyway so why not?!



1. Every time Mike says 'tear it out' in reference to the shitty work of another contractor squee like the fucked-over home renovator you are, punch a hole in your sheetrock (if you don't have one already) and take a shot of the finest Canadian whiskey you got. 



here



2.  Every time somebody says "aboot" or "eh" take a shot of maple syrup.

3.  Every time Mike shows up to a jobsite in a tank top, crosses his arms and gives you a peep at the gun show throw your panties at the screen and take a shot.



here



4.  Anytime Mike's gold chain winks at you from underneath that henley take a shot in honor of Jersey Shore.  *see above pic*

5.  Every time Mike talks to the young pigtailed female interns wearing pink shirts (realllllyyy??) plot your revenge against that skank bitch and take a shot for women everywhere who can get shit done without the need to remind everyone we are in possession of a vagina. 



My feminist side says "Yes, Yes, Yes" but the side that actually deals with sexist assholes all gawdamned day says "No, No, No!  More eyeliner does NOT mean more respect."  I should know, I've tried.  But feel free to continue to slink out with your pink out, Pinky.  



6. Anytime you see Mike with a coffee cup take a shot of Nescafe Instant coffee.  Bailey's optional but preferred.

7.  Every time a man hugs Mike at the end of the show and Mike is accepting if not slightly homophobic take a sip of your cosmo and hug your own gay. 



here



You'll be passed out in 10 minutes guaranteed.  At least the blackout keeps me from remembering all the things that AREN'T happening in my kitchen. 

Let's get to' up from the soon-to-be-tiled flo up.

Navy and gold and a lesson in regional dialects.

I seemed to have amassed a collection of images featuring deep blue and gold.  That combo just seems so fancy and regal.  Unless you call it yella like we do down South.  Or yeller depending on which side of the crick you're from.  (That's creek to all you yankees)

Sorry no source. Correct me if you know...

ONLY look at the sexy blue wingback and saucy yella blanket.  If your eyes venture too far to the right and you see those gawdamnable stool things you'll immediately want to break the beer bottle sitting on your coffee table (or desk if you're at work) and take the shards to slowly carve out your eyeballs rendering you unable to track down the designer of such nonsense and make them die a slow death. 



from Emma's Design Blogg

In addition to that painting I've also been making sexy eyes at that sofa...  I forget the name of it but I know I've seen it in green too.  She's playing hard to get.  That's okay I can wait, you saucy settee.

Kate Spade's apartment via AT

This is where Kate Spade lives?  Really?  Whatevs...



via Design Milk





Sex and the City set via If the Lampshade Fits



Society Inc via Head Over Heels

This is so well-styled I can smell it.  It smells like leather, tea and dirty imported textiles.  mmmhhh...



Solid Frog

Blue and yella pillas!

I feel like I should know where this is from but I don't.  Sorry.



Coco & Kelley

Pia Ulan

You know what's betta than blue and yella?  FRIENDS in blue and yella!!  Technically it's cobalt and ochre I guess.  Also, technically I should be strung up and punched in the throat for all the stupid rhyming in this post.  Can we still be friends?  We don't have to be the type who wear blue and yellow though....

Unless you want to... 

But you have to wear yellow but I look like shit in it.

Niblets of awesomeness

Chattavegas is, as you would imagine, the epicenter of architectural creativity and development as evidenced by this stunning riverfront condo development



from Larry Miller's photostream



that still sits mostly empty over year after completion because, as the natives describe, it looks like East German government housing that's the color of shit and sells cheap 1500 sq ft condos for $400,000+.  But hey, it's pretty progressive for our little town and I'm guessing that most people in this area probably think it's so hip and urban because OMIGAWD we totally just got a PF Chang's so we are sooo like Atlanta yo.  But not us.  And by 'us' I mean me and other people with taste like every gay man in the city. 

If we're going to fuck up the views of the river which is our only tourist draw let's at least do something a little more jazzy like these:

Wheeeeee!!!!  Les Choux des Creteil designed by Gerard Grandval in the early 70's sits outside of Paris and was an experiment in public housing.

vintage photo or photoshop manipulation? who can tell!

here

The balconies were designed to hold draping plants which would have looked so super hawt amazing but the developers had no vision and said that it would have attracted insects.  Sad face.  Petal balconies are still pretty cool - graceful unfolding concrete niblet blossoms of awesomeness.

I'm sure these floorplans were a bitch when laying out furniture but these are sacrifices you have to make when you want to live in pod towers like that look like giant mod versions of corn on the cob.

all images via Grain Edit unless otherwise noted

What I'm saying is let's slap some butter on these things and go to town!!  Maybe that would help our local architecture...  Butter makes everything better.  Just ask Paula Deen.  Or me.  Or the French.

Design Cliche: Wunderkammer (I'm fancy because I use foreign words!)

You thought a collection of fake glitter boogers was bad? Here are the real cabinets of curiosities or wunderkammers:





with accompanying great article from cryology and co.



And here they are today:

from the appropriately titled Skullmaster

It's, like, totally the same.

Rich and fancy people in olden times stored their natural history specimens in rooms and special cabinets and now poor hipsters do the exact same thing.  My, how times have changed.   Most people that I know who have these cabinets spend years searching for treasures and curating their collections.  Usually it’s a hodge podge of skulls, bones, sticks, stones, leaves, bug carcasses, shells and other natural history items mixed in with your choice of grotesque elements like antique dolls heads, vintage 19^th century pictures and ephemera, rusted things or even other anatomical weirdness like glitter boogers, toenail clippings (do NOT click that – even I gagged) or 26 years of your own belly button lint.




nastiness via here





Not a hipster.  Just a weirdo from here



Just kidding.  Back to NORMAL weird things that are awesome:

John Perry's cabinet for auction







Society Inc's Sibella Court via Design*sponge







Get a room hipsters!  via the Selby





Solid Frog





Rotting toenails and belly button butter aside, I’m not really going to snark on someone for collecting things that they enjoy and tells a story about them because at least it feels somewhat organic.  Organic in that it is always a “unique” work in progress not organic in materials although yes there ARE a lot of organic materials because it’s totally science-y and we’re all students of this world right?  RIGHT?!   However I have a feeling that in the “Guide to Becoming a Creative and Misunderstood Outsider” having a cabinet of curiosities is right at the top of the list.  If you don’t know the history behind one or why you are buying dozens of tiny rat skeletons only that you MUST in order to feel complete or to be shot by the Selby then you are an asshat.  And a design cliché regardless.  People who collect glitter boogers are exempt from judgment of course.

 


The Selby

 

I, being a sheep student of Creative and Misunderstood Outsider interiors, confess to having a few jars filled with things like rocks (I'm a primitively glamorous cavewoman) from places I've been to and skeleton keys which I've collected since I was about seven.  These are things that have meaning to me (read: probably part of my neuroses), are free and don't contribute to the cycle of consumerism like the tacky 'Made in China' souvenir market.  Except for my magnet collection.  I'm pretty sure all those are made in China. 

 


ffffound



One time I was sitting in the Starbucks drive thru mountain climbing and saw an empty bird's nest that had fallen to the ground.  Wanting to preserve such a stunning piece of avian architecture I picked it up (and my latte) and happily mountain-climbed home where I preserved it in a jar where I could admire the animal kingdom's own built environment.  But then someone told me that birds and their nests are INFESTED with fleas and mites and now that little jar just grosses me out.  I can't take the lid off and throw it away because then I'll release all that filth and it'll swarm around me and then I'll die of deadly avian mite disease which I totally just made up but sounds way more worser than avian flu becuase that's just the FLU!  duh.

 


French Marie Claire via poppytalk

 



Livingetc via Moodboard

 It's like a Steampunk/art installation/cabinet of curiosity.  You just got pwned hipsters!

 



via Design*Sponge



Aesthetically I'll take jars and cabinets of dead things over the fake personality that Pottery Barn peddles any day. 

Or maybe I'm just missing Gil Grissom's office...



here

Nerd love.