Chandeliers really know how to smize.

Does the blog look a little different today?  Just something a little saucier but you just can't put your finger on it?  A certain... maturity and worldliness about it?  It's probably because I POPPED MY GUN CHERRY this weekend and am a real woman now!  

A real badass woman.

I'll tell you all the glamorous details after my 2nd class which is this Saturday.  In the meantime let's look at all the glamorous details about this Kerry Washington editorial from Vogue Italia.

Because DAYUM.  

This is exactly how I look hanging out at the Ranch, too.  Except even more glamour.  And guns.

Ok I don't have a gun but it has a definite badass vibe around here now.  Just like this:

Which is exactly what I look like blogging on my couch.  But I looked like this before the gun class so no change there.

*shifty eyes*

Next party idea: cocktail dresses around the plastic kiddie pool out back.  It'll be a way to wear those old bridesmaids dresses again.  And then we can ruin them by finishing the evening with the slip n' slide.  If you have a strapless dress you're fucked.

Sorry Kerry, I think the star of this is chandelier.  And the... countertop/table?  I'm not sure what that is but I like what's going on there.  I could really spread out when I'm making my cat hairball and Pottery Barn catalog collages. 

My latest piece is called Your soul in an apothecary jar #7.

Seriously, stop sending me catalogs, Pottery Barn.  I ordered one thing 7 years ago as a gift and since then you've killed 17 trees in my honor.  I'd like to put your soul in an apothecary jar!

I look like a real chump wearing shades of orange but I bet if I dressed like that fireplace I could make it work.  Vertical stripes are very slimming.  Especially in stone.

photos from here

So much glamour it hurts.  Also, Kerry stole my avatar's hairstyle and over my dead imaginary cartoon body can someone have take that.

Maybe I'll trade her for a chandelier or three for it.

Pretty things that H.G. Wells might even like. But the grammar police won't.

So there's a new online mag Est from Australia that premiered recently and I read its first (and probably my) last issue but by "read" I mean skimmed the pictures of course because nobody reads the articles in any of that stuff because nobody really cares what those magazines have to say because we're too busy writing our own copy in our heads when we look at it because everything WE bloggers say is better than what those vanilla articles say except when WE are the bloggers that get famous enough to make our own magazines and you sure as shit better read my fake future magazine.  Rue might as well be in Sanskrit for how much I pay attention to the text.  People might say print is dead but I think what's really following Liz Taylor up to the MJ in the sky is engaging and informative storytelling as it relates to design.  And proper sentence structure.  I think my first Mobius strip sentence of this paragraph proves that point pretty clearly and it will probably continue to be illustrated throughout this post and subsequent posts.  


Oh look - pretty things!

I don't know what's going on here but it's matte black, shiny white and natural wood.  I'm liking this color combo so much lately I kinda designed my kitchen in it.  I wish I had more shiny things like in that back right corner but I think that can be arranged.  The fact that I don't have anything in the kitchen that sparkles like that is a shame to high maintenance divas hard-working Madames everywhere.   Why I didn't make a mosaic backsplash from all my costume jewelry we'll never know.  [MS sidebar: I know why - I still wear that shit for really special occasions like Friday night margarita night and when Charlemagne and I have dress-up parties.  Those are on Saturdays.  Sometimes Tuesday... ]

Feel free to write your own commentary in your head.  I won't be offended.

I feel like it's last year's Primitive Glamour but even more primitive.  And earthier...

I'm talking subterranean.  Like Morlock type of "earthy" where things are molten hot and weird and grow in awkward stalagmite formations.  With lamp shades on top... And shiny crystalline things.  Don't question my story.

Oh and awkward furniture.  It's a Morlock throne.

I think this proves the value of a good stylist because this is a big ole mess but I want to live here too!!  I'm such a sucker.

Aren't we done with bones?  Or is that an Eloi skull?  Did I just overload on nerdery?

All images from Est via the cool blog Number 19

Oh who cares.  This blog is 53% fantastical images, 41% words of some kind (possibly Sanskrit - you don't know), 13% boxed wine and 7% glitter.   

And 3% dumb references that only I think are cool.

Purging, pastels and polaroids.

I'm doing some deep fall cleaning around ye olde ModSauce blog and posting a bunch of old, half-finished and probably all-around lame things in the near future.  Aren't you excited??!!!  Sometimes a girl just needs to purge whether it's a closet of last year's ill-fitting clothes, a blog dashboard or vomiting up a few too many cocktails.  So buckle up readers for a few awkward posts of that not-quite-right shirt that looked so good on the clearance rack in March/omigodwhydidihavethatlastshot type of blogging this week.  I'm gonna spaz out with my vag out blogging style!!!!!!  (I'm not)

To get started I'm posting a bunch of small conversations that I've been having with myself that really should have been kept private but what's the point of having an anonymous blog if you can't rant about dumb things and embarrass yourself on occasion?!   


For instance I can't hold it in any longer that I hate these chairs:

I love vintage and ugly things - especially together - but these chairs really make me want to projectile vomit directly in someone's face (that kind of purging isn't fun).  All I see is Farrah Fawcett hair wings and forced charm.  If you're wanting something eccentric and quirky I think you can do better.

Even if you try to make it all cutesy like this:

here and WTF is going on with that giant plant????

...it still looks dumb.  But I see these about every week in thrift stores down here so if you happen to be in love with them I'll mail you one.  Shipping is one jizzilion dollars.

..........

In related vintage recycles that makes my vag spazz (and not in the good way):

here

I don't care if they're super hawt right now and Kate Moss has a pair she wears with her high waisted jeans you look like a jackhole wearing them.  So does she.  Super sweaty toes and cold cracked heels are the most fucktarded combo ever.  And no one ever really looks good walking in mules of any kind anyway.   EVAR!   I don't care how comfy those birks are you CANNOT run in them and if you're going to buy ugly elephantine shoes for comfort you sure as shit need to make sure you can outrun a criminal in them because they need to at least have a purpose other than than showing off your striped sock collection.  [MS sidebar: you can't run in flip flops or stilettos either but those are cute and sexy and that purpose totally trumps practicality because cute shoes will attract people to you and THEY'LL save you from bad people.  Proven fact.]  This goes for those feathered mules too because even though you might think they're sexy they're not.  You look like an unimaginative housewife pretending to be saucy while clomping around with marabou on your feet and if I know one thing about dudes it's that they probably aren't looking at your feet lurve feathered shoes that make it sound like you're a horse galloping around in the bathroom.

Fuck-me pumps are only good for one thing (and it ain't walking): 

Elvgren from somewhere...

sitting in your sheer nightie writing in your diary.

here

Or DIYing in your bra.  Duh.

........

Every time I'm restacking my junk mail on my coffee table that I call "decorating" and see this cover:

it makes me really stabby that I paid money for this magazine subscription.  FUCK YOU HB and your mauve and dusty aqua.  If you want to be on trend with the pink and blue palette this is how you do it:

from the awesome tumblr Bohemian Punk. Blue eyeliner FTW.

This might be a crazy mess (meh - I'm more lenient with fashion spreads) and she's probably wearing high-heeled clogs with this at least she's relevant for 2010 (by way of 1970's of course) and doesn't look like a Architectural Digest editorial from 1989.  This shade of pink is yellowed and the blue leans towards cobalt.  It's how you rehash the past.   The circle of life.

Are you noticing a theme yet...??

In an effort to purge a bunch of unrelated random thoughts, it turns out there is in fact a theme.  I think that means I'm insanely anal-retentive awesome.   The overall trend that lately is this psuedo-70's vibe that's all about new pastels and "crafty chic."  I don't know if I truly believe there is such a thing as crafty that's "chic" but somebody else sure does.  I think we can partly blame this:

we heart it

The polaroid camera.  It gives every piece of inane bullshit it captures immediate "personality."

here

Sometimes that's a good thing if you're a horrible picture taker like me but lately I just see a lot of vintage sweetness and spools of thread elevated from Martha Stewart stylized craft editorial to artsy photograph of hodge podge granny hoarding.

And of course the polaroid camera was a hipster favorite and we all know that hipsters are the real mavens of trend cycles.  

via ffffound

And etsy style of course...

A RAINBOW YOU SAY????!!!!

I would set a baby panda on fire for anything coconut but I swear to gawd if I see another gawddamn picture of a tinted 'macaron' I will take that burning panda and shove it up your ass.  IT'S JUST A COOKIE MUTHERFUCKERS!!!!

last three from here

here

Ditto the cookie rant for cherry blossom pictures because I've really reached my quota for these.

I will admit sometimes I feel a little pastel-y but let's just blame it on an occasional surge of estrogen.  Sweetness and dewdrops and granny glam are fine if that's your thang but this new surge of it doesn't feel authentic to me.   I'll take it any day of the week and twice on Sundays over shabby chic but pastels are still pastels.  They still need something bigger/darker/grittier to ground them otherwise it's still just lace and ruffles and bunnies.  But now you can process it with iphone app and then BLAMMO!!  You just became infinitely groovier!!  Or add a few stitched flowers to it = one-of-a-kind eccentricity!!!!  But that's precisely the issue - real personality doesn't come from a photoshop filter (I don't think...?!) and while the 70's were groovetastic and it's fun to be nostalgic sometimes (what trend isn't to some extent?) it's an applied aesthetic.  

Everything looks cooler from behind the filtered haze of my yellowed aviator glasses and polaroid viewfinder but once you take that away it feels ironic that we're being nostalgic about another decade of recession, high unemployment, an unpopular war all with a liberal president thrown in there somewhere.  But I don't really know anything about the 70's because I wasn't alive then and that's a whole lot of episodes of Charlie's Angels I have to watch and I don't really have that kind of time so y'all can tell me I'm dumb if you want.  If you want a burning baby panda shoved up your ass...  

But I guess not everything viewed through a yellowed haze has to be cookies and flowers - I'm quite partial to these "pastel-esque" graphics.

here

And if you like your polaroids way nastier there's always Pornaroids.  I did not make that up and yes it is NSFW obviously.  Porn is where trends go to die. Or is it where they are born??!!!!!!  *DUN, DUN, DUUUNNNNNNN*

Think about that mystery of life while I write in my diary...

Three realities and a baby.

Madame Sunday has returned and recovered (read: I got drunk) from the four day attempted suicide mission vacation known as family fun time!!  Yipppeeee!  I travelled to the edges of the Earth - you may have heard about it through my previous complaining and Twitter rants - it's called West Texas.  Getting there required two cars, an airplane, an underground subway and passage through a mystical portal known as My Comfort Zone.  


It's a beautifully rough landscape full of rusted oil horses, worn out towns and quite a few multi-million dollar ranches scattered about.  I like all of that - especially the old stuff. But to a madame who revels in mediocrity it's a state full of extremes - both the physical landscape as well as the sociopolitical environment.  Bulls costs as much as my house, schools change history and sometimes it takes an hour and a half to get to a mall.  Also it's home to my kinfolk and there is plenty of delicious brisket.

Starting at the end (it's easier this way) -  I had spent the final morning driving to the airport for my return flight talking about Obamacare and socialism so once through security I stole away to the Magazine Orgasmisplosion Store to hoard Sour Patch Kids and smutty mags, my own personal brand of escapism, for the flight home.  I was lucky enough to find DHome, a local Dallas home and garden magazine, and inside lay pure editorial bliss exploring the OTHER side of Texas I had yet to see:  the pink lipstick, lavender walls, Cadillacs and over-the-top big city Dallas life.

So sparkley...

Here's the owner of the featured house - grandson of Mary Kay Ash as in THE Mary Kay of pink Cadillac makeup fame.  He's posing here with his favorite pussy on the dining table (I'm sorry I had to) and beard wife.   One look at her in that dress that I KNOW he picked it out for her and I knew this spread was my decorating salvation.  I bet the chandelier was purchased because it is reminiscent of Cinderella's pumpkin carriage. Just like a Texan fairy tale.  This whole thing was a glittery and overly-styled fairy godmother sent to shine a soft pastel light on the softer side of Texas I had yet to see.  Quite a far cry from where I just came from...

Oh ahahahaha!  Dearest Uncle CattleRancher - I can't tell if that was a derogatory joke or you were informing me about a hate crime you were planning to commit but I'm going to laugh anyway because I know you are not afraid to use that gun strapped to your ankle or the one holstered under your shirt or the two in your glove compartment.  AHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA!  ehhhh......

Lemme tell ya, this ain't my style.  But after four days of Sarah Palin and Jeezus (in that order) for breakfast, lunch and dinner this was like a design blogger lovefest.  There was 'swooning' and 'melting' and a lot of other shameful things.  It reminded me that I have a place in this world - a place where I can squee over that art in the corner, marvel at people who upholster things in silk and also give a middle finger to the shitty layout of this room.  FUCK YOU randomly placed felt poof!  Ahhhh..... I feel right at home now.  Well, almost.  

A few compassionately texting friends reminded me that back through the portal to my home that we shop at Ikea and yes global warming does exist and no it is not just Jeezus giving Mother Nature a hot flash and gay marriage really isn't a sign of the coming apocalypse.   Whew!  I was starting to forget!

mmmmhhhhh chandelier.

That foyer on the right is probably as big as my living room.  Seems reasonable - everything IS bigger in Texas.  And even though that antique desk on the left serves absolutely no purpose other than mildly hinting that someone in the house might sit there and pen notes on monogrammed stationary amidst the Murano glass collection it is kinda purty. In that completely useless way that only works in decor magazines.

My grandmother has a desk.  Well it's really a lap tray that she uses in her recliner where she does the daily crossword and writes letters to San Francisco (the city itself) telling them why she won't visit their town.  You know, because of all "those people" -  the ones who voted for Nancy Pelosi.   Oh and the baby-killing, ass-demon homosexuals too.

So here I am standing in the airport awaiting my sugar rush and all I can think about is how it's all just Texas - young millionaires with Baker furniture that might have never been used and poor families out in the middle of nowhere eating Velveeta casseroles all just tied up in bow of unabashed lone-star pride. 


Where do you think Madame Sunday gets her badassical attitude?!  Duh.

maybe this is bit more than pride.  I'd still do dirty things to get a closet like that.

Christ is this the Mariah Carey MTV Cribs edition?  This is the closet where her "husband" probably does her hair.  Looks like a stray pair of Louboutins wandered away from their home in a Rubbermaid bin under the window.  I can assure you that part is fake because everyone knows when you buy a pair of Louboutins they come with their own shoe angel that flies them up to the heavens to sleep at night.

In West Texas you wear cowboy boots.  Not because it's cool but because you are an actual cowboy.  Ok real cowboys are pretty badass.  I don't have anything flip to say about them.

Ok that bedroom on the left is pure hotness. I won't deny.

But this?  Didn't we JUST talk about white?   My family says godless liberals (I love you too grandmother) are ruining this country but I think it might be people like this who decorate in all white and use ridonkulous amounts of pillows on their beds.

click to blow it up.  seriously.

On the left are framed sketches of the custom wedding dress designed by her husband Austin Scarlett of Project Runway fame - yeah THIS lady!   But in all honesty -  I almost wept at seeing this picture with the baby. Not sure if I wanted to weep because the wallpapered ceiling had glass beads, the custom-designed crib was conceived even before the baby was and the plethora of PINK all made me want to throw up and vomiting makes me cry (and pee) ORRRR weep because that baby's head tilt is so fucking adorable it melted the wall of recycled water bottles and liberal guilt I was forced to build around my soul over the past three days. 

I think that baby is just reminding me that all is right with the world (except for that crib of course) once I get back to my middle-class boughie life, eat some organic vegetables and see what's on clearance at Target at a manageable 5000 miles away from the family I love.

Not you too Stephen Drucker??!!

Stephen.  Just between us girls Madame Sunday always gets that tingly feeling in her nether parts anytime I open my mailbox and see that HB font adorning a warm, thick package of fabulosity.  I adore you and what you've done to HB over the last few years; I've listened to your interviews here and here;  so I was so disappointed to see this is my mailbox this weekend.

Beautiful Hizzy

I think we've already thoroughly discussed my theories on blue this year and I can't believe that HB has succumbed to the conspiracy that is Pantone Turquoise 15-5519.  And with a bunch of bland interiors to boot.  For the record I like blue - my bedroom is blue - but Christ on a cracker this is getting old.  If you're going to commit to the mindfuck of a nation's color palette at least make me WANT to get on bored.  Oops I meant to type 'get on board' but I think my Freudian slip is appropriate. 

I know you can't be perfect every time but next month get your shit together HB.  I'm counting on you because I can't afford a subscription to Living Etc and Elle Deco UK and I need something, anything besides Elle Decor and Veranda.  Don't make me switch to Canadian House and Home - they ARE really really nice, Stephen. 

First it's Pantone, then it's our magazines, next Hollywood will start making movies filled with a bunch of blue people!!! 

Wait.  Well fuck me...

I still want to get together with you for a cocktail or two Stephen.  Look how cute we are together.