The Sunday Set inspired by Dr. Bronner's gift of the firecrotch.

To round out this week's unintentional theme, here's an image dump of all my secret hobo hippie dreams so you too can layer on all your best jewelry and spend your Friday twirling like Stevie Nicks.  I'll let you borrow a gauze skirt if yours is in the laundry.  


Obviously that's a self portrait in the first picture...

The New Gypsies from Iain McKell

here

[MS sidebar: if I haven't told you, I have a weakness for '70s landscape photography.  If you ever see a vintage book on ebay about America's amber waves of grain or grizzly mountain shots that a poor man's National Geographic would publish, alert a Madame immediately.]

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real source?

Iain McKell again

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Penabranca

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I think I've officially turned into this lady now:

here

I might actually have that scarf...  I definitely have those earrings.  I do not have that tummy.


But I am going to stop now before these images land me in some expose as an example of white people and cultural misappropriation along with Urban Outfitters and every editorial magazine shoot of the last two years.


Next week I promise no more hippies.  We'll be back to whatever it is that I normally blog about around here.  But for now I TWIRL!

I refuse to entertain the idea of Dr. Bronner's shaving cream.

Now that I've reclaimed my affection for comfortably-hobo chic, let's just venture into full on hippie territory this week.  Let's also pretend that didn't rhyme.

originally from Apartment Therapy

I saw this little house on Pink Shirts and Car Wrecks recently and for some reason it plucked the hemp strings in my heart.  Also, I was a little jealous of the blue seat pad in their Bertoia chair...

Honestly, I think a lot of it has to do with the photography.

It's actual eye candy.  When in doubt, jack up that saturation like it ain't nothin.


Makes me want to get out my camera that doesn't have a phone in it...

And make some pottery.  

And really try to make my Bertoia be friends with some of my closeted textiles.

Those windows would have a permanent greasy imprint of me rubbing myself on them.  Fuck those weird hamburger-looking footstool poufs, though.  I don't want my furniture to look like it should come with a Happy Meal toy.  Unless the toy is a royal blue Bertoia chair pad.

I should stop trying to fight my hippie roots and just accept that sometimes I rather enjoy places that look like stylish, thrift-happy hobos squat (squatted? squaat?) there for the night.  I was raised by heathen hippies but being the first born nerd child, I rebelled by turning my nose up at recreational drugs, doing lame studious things and just generally avoiding encounters with the law.  

Except for some grunge years in high school and that winter where I didn't shave my legs on principle (possibly also grunge-related), I keep the hippie mostly tucked away into the box I keep my incense in.

But every now and then my roots unearth themselves and force me to admire some macrame, take a stroll through a head shop or buy some Dr. Bronner's body wash. 

Inevitably I'll get tangled in some yarn crafts or have the clerk at the head shop grunt uncomfortably in my direction or accidentally get some Dr. Bronner's peppermint body wash too close to my yes yes parts and THAT SHIT AIN'T FUN, Y'ALL.

It's like shampoo in your eye times 1000.  

So I say 'no thanks, man' to fully committing myself to the hippie lifestyle and instead look at some pictures of young kids doing their hippie modern thing.  This way I can get out all my gypsy sensibilities without having to foray into the wild and indefatigable world of jam bands.

Or set fire to my vulva.

Back to my dreamworld roots: interior porn!

Despite all the wonderful essays I read about how the internet and sites like Pinterest are ruining us and making us create virtual dreamworlds instead of a world that actually exists where we accomplish the things we see on said internet rather than just sit around all day reading blogs, pinning things and eating leftover Thai food watching Sherlock Holmes because that life sounds really really (not) awful...


Wait, where was I going with this?  I can't remember.  I got lost in the Matrix there...

via Designed for Life

But I'd like to get lost in here for a while... HEY OOOOOO!


Aaaanysauce, I think I was thinking about how all I see lately are super traditional rooms with lots of glamorous clutter and expensive furniture where you can see the hand of the designer in every. single. corner. and I was creating this dreamworld that wasn't even a dreamworld that I wanted.  


I was blinded by the shiny things.   It happens. (a lot)


Or it was probably the whole New Traditionalist movement that's kinda taken over.  I'm not immune to playing in fantasy worlds that aren't my own from time to time.   I'M ONLY HUMAN!

original pin but no source

And because I pin on instinct, I just knew that my Pinterest Interiors board were going to be overrun with burled walnut sideboards and teacups and ascots and whatever else people with lots of money and traditional style surround themselves with.

via Head Over Heels

But after glancing at my own Interiors pinboard where all this lovely junk came from, I was satisfied to know that those kinds of fancy things hadn't infected my hobo brain! 

Jennifer Ament's apartment via A Diary of Lovely

I'm still the same old saucy gal who likes some natural cave-like materials, awkward arrangements and bohemian sweat lodge-meets-vintage modern fortress of solitude.

from Fine Home Building but not sure where. Original pin here...

And hobbit fireplaces!!!!!!!!!!!!!

via The Gifts of Life

And definitely headboards like that.

Mickey Muenning's house via Design Boom

And whatever the hell is going on here.

via You Are the River

via The Aestate

Apparently my dreamworld involves lots of gnarly fireplaces.  

via Fox on the Run

Oh dreamworld, we still got it.  Don't you worry about those mean people on the internet or slick antique furniture.  It's just you and me and some gnarly fireplaces and Thai food.

This patio update would go a lot faster if Charlemagne will stop leaving dead birds on it.

Remember a few weeks ago when I said I was supporting gay marriage by not buying shitty outdoor furniture?  Well I think someone veeeerrrry important got the message.  But not anyone in North Carolina.  

So we are T-Minus 14 days until my patio party and I've been super busy.  Mostly busy not doing anything patio related because there's really only so much someone can do on a concrete slab.  But just in case anyone was losing sleep over the unfinished state of my concrete slab I'm here to ease your mind a bit.

Ease it with terrible pillows that I'm super in love with!

Totally dry-humpable.  Which is exactly what I was probably doing the last time these pillows were in style.  In other words, they're perfect for me!

Don't be fooled by that peek of bench up there - it's technically in the shape of a bench but there are no screws holding it together.  I could only handle 35% of building it before I lost interest.  By 'lose interest' I mean that I couldn't follow the fucking gibberish instructions that I think a Jamaican goblin wrote.  

But my thrift store and Tuesday morning adventures have made up for my decepti-bench.

Just some lanterns and brass things and some woven baskety things that I could shop for all day long.  Mr. Pink back there will get a coat of spray paint.  OR WILL IT?!  Spoiler alert: it will.  There's only one thing that can look junky on this patio and it's me.  Wait... I mean it's the pillows. 

My cafe string lights are purchased, ready to be hung by my gay husband and yes they are white. 

From Lights for All Occasions

I have a white ceiling so this was really the only option.  They aren't the really badass industrial ones that I wanted but damn if those aren't for lottery winners.  I had to have cafe string lights of some kind because without them my guests said they would set fire to the Ranch because of my shitty party-hosting skills.

They do not fuck around when it comes to patio parties, y'all.  You won't believe what they told me they'd do if I didn't have spinach dip.  

Monsters. 

So.... *whistles*  I NEED THE BEST SPINACH DIP RECIPE YOU'VE EVER EATEN!!

Generation ZZZZZZZZZ.....

Between the ombre hair and dip dye trend, people just canNOT be bothered to complete anything lately.  

Blue on blonde Kate Bosworth from where?  Even if you're over this look I'm not. I'm really current.

Come on, Kate!  The world is turning into a bunch of lazy people that try to get away with half-assed mediocrity as a way of life.

Hey, wait a minute... Those assholes stole my schtick!!  They stole it and then did it way better than me.  

Gawddamn them.

Since I won't be having any ombre hair (lame kid sad face), I'll happily settle for some dip dye furniture.

More blue on blonde from Anthropologie

Multi color ombre seems positively garish to me - I much prefer the natural wood that appears to be eaten by rainbow colors.   It's sophisticated  and formal but still says I'm here to party.  Like jeezus in a tuxedo tshirt.

Judith Seng

Serious, serious design boner, y'all.  Every time I see these pop up on Pinterest stream I squee a bit.  Or a lot.  Definitely see more here.

I think the DIY possibilities for something like this are extraordinary.  My big chunky wood coffee table is practically begging me for a sexy coat of glossy black for one of its sides. 

But it's a natural finish - full of grains and holes and places that once you go glossy black you can never get back.  You really have to commit.  There's no wardrobe change for this tuxedo tshirt.

From a restaurant by Karim Zariffa via The Strange Attractor

If I'm too scared to commit to my coffee table I could always get out my sandpaper and go to town on some other furniture just laying around the house.  Poor, unaware, unsuspecting furniture... you might be getting a little more nekked soon.

However I'm probably too lazy to finish that too (hey don't blame me, it's my lazy generation) so I could always buy something small that's made by someone else who isn't lazy like me.  Someone such as oME & oMy  who makes these squee-inducing utensils that I can't wait to buy in bulk for my kitchen.

And holyshitballs, YES!  She has blue and gold ones.  Well, she used to.  The pink and blue/gold ones have been sold but I think she can do custom ones.  Just sayin, fellow gold lovers...

However if you're more of a brunette lover:

from I Suwannee who already made the 'just the tip' joke I had in mind. She's obviously way more current than me.

...perhaps I can recommend these acacia salad servers that are currently for sale:

They are pretty damn sexy.  They don't have gold tips but maybe you like that because you're not as formal as me. 

It's cool though, I still like to party.

With spoons.

Nothing sets my world right like architectural paintings and mad ramblings.

Y'all, I'm feeling really out of sorts right now because I've just watched an episode of Strange Addiction where a woman drank ALL of her own urine to help cure her skin cancer.  ...  And just to hedge her bets she used it in her neti pot and rubbed it on her body.  ...  It's called urine therapy and yes I googled it.  

Between that and the really creepy Samuel L. Jackson trying-to-get-laid Siri commercials, my world feels dirty and fucked up.  I'm scared.  And need a bleach neti pot.  My calls to Dr. Who to come and put everything back in its place with fun British hijinks are unanswered.  

Since I don't hear any TARDIS noises coming from the back yard (oh I listen) then I'll settle on bringing some nice, simple, organized structure back in my life.  As in angles and buildings and shit.

Argos Building

*segue QUEEN*

Mies van der Rohe and concrete building (Chicago).  Y'all know the building?

Feeling much better about the world thanks to these super fly watercolors by Amy Park that I discovered on Design Milk.

Blue Violet Post Office

If you need it too, you can bring a little structure to your life by buying some of her prints from 20x200.  No info on whether or not you can buy some Dr. Who visits to your house.

IBM LA

Omigawd.  Genius idea: nerd gigalos for lady geeks!  Forget firefighters and policemen, I bet there's a huge market for a pay-by-the-hour Dr. Who, Bill Nye, any dude wearing suspenders, the ginger from Mythbusters, my college astronomy lab student teacher with the lisp and the super pointy shoulder blades, etc.

Neimeye Facade

I already patented this idea so don't even bother, suckers.  ModSauce readers get a discount because I like to give back.  

And then I'll finally be able to become one of those types of Madames just like my internet name!

Olin Hall OSC

But after 20 years of dealing with sickos and a handful of court appearances, I'll probably end up living alone in the desert with my 457 birds just like Heidi Fleiss and then I'll have to appear on Strange Addiction for my weirdo bird problem.

I should just go ahead and accept that my life is one twist away from a reality show intervention.

Three Chicago Buildings (to be specific it's the Prentice Women's Center and hospital )

Maybe Miss Amy needs to be on Strange Addiction for her obvious window fetish...??  On second thought, I just chose a bunch of her paintings that highlight a bunch of windows so who's the one with the closet window fetish now??!!!!

Eames House 3

Man, having a blog is really great for uncovering all your subconscious desires.  For watercolor windows and Dr. Who prostitute sex?

Eames House CA

I'm not even that surprised anymore by what I uncover here in this totally and completely private space of the internet.   

Grace Miller House PS

It's only me and some really good paintings just hanging out.  Making me wish I would start using my sketchbook for more than just grocery lists and details about my new nerd escort business. 

Shulman House and Studio

I'm kidding.  I don't draw or sketch anything anymore.  That's what Instagram is for!

Jacobsen House LA

Sigh...  I should probably leave the sex trade, art-making and urine drinking to the professionals and stick with my fellow Instagram-using hipster bloggers of madness.