So, I’ve lived in New York for a while now and, like pretty much everyone I know, I have serious apartment envy. Perhaps envy is the wrong word. Curiosity? Voyeurism? Obsession? I love nothing more than walking down the nicest streets in our neighborhood at night looking into people’s brownstones who left the shades open (look at that molding! what an amazing chandelier! They have PLANTS.). The same is true for online voyeurism- I (again, like pretty much everyone I know) practically refresh Design Sponge on the hour to see if there are new sneak peeks into the apartments of real people, I loved Domino, Martha Stewart is practically pornographic, and my pinterest is pretty much all pictures of people’s reclaimed wood tables, plush velvet couches, whiskey-organization-systems, and (again) plants that the light in our basement apartment cannot support.
There are two things that are tough for me, though: unlike most the people who inhabit the amazing gorgeous spaces I suckle, 1) we rent our apartment, and so we can’t paint the floors or mess with the light fixtures or rip out the pre-fab dark cherry kitchen cabinets and 2) at this point (le sigh) Dorothy Draper dressers and/or any sofa that isn’t our trusty futon aren’t in the financial cards for us. The Selby will never be in our place. I think this is why I love Little Green Notebook so much.
Unlike so many of the other designey blogs out there, which engender only covetousness, Jenny fosters a grand and wonderful sense of possibility (also, is it weird that I totally feel like we’re on a first name basis?). She has me believing I really could reupholster the victorian settee that belonged to my great-grandmother myself, that careful editing and judicious use of craigslist can make a space look (pretty much) just as good as a space furnished out of Holler and Squall or John Derian, and- most importantly to me- that just because you don’t own your space is no reason not to make it your own. She also always has a bright red manicure when she’s doing semi-manual labor and that’s something I can get down with.
After the one two punch of watching Jenny take down temporary wallpaper (!) in her rental apartment and realizing that the kitchen island that Jenny and her mom re-painted here was the EXACT same one that we have from Ikea (but with additional hardware) I thought: I can do this. For the past two months or so I’ve been on a Little-Green-Notebook-fueled, totally low-budget vortex-redux of our apartment. With infinite thanks to Sweetheart, my ever-lovin-Mama, and, of course, Jenny: this week I’d like to share all the changes with you… Stay tuned.
Category: Covet
Lights Out
So this Halston dress looks pretty great, right? Pale celadon, asymmetrical, vaguely Dynasty inspired shoulder pad, open back, all over sparkly. This dress would be pretty good for a party, don’t you think? You don’t know the half of it:
Yes, this dress GLOWS IN THE DARK. Put on Electric Feel, pop the champagne, and turn off the lights, it’s party time.
I think it’s been on the racks since August, so I’m a bit behind the curve. It also retailed for $4000, so maybe this late discovery is a fashion version of trickle down economics- since it is now on sale.
Images and video from Net-a-Porter
Dress discovery from Miss Molly, who may be the only person I know who could actually pull this off.
Amazing Mama=Birthday Scavenger Hunt
This mysterious envelope arrived for me the day before my birthday, looking vaguely official with its blue and white IRS ticking, while also looking a little Groucho-Marx-glasses-disguise-suspicious with its multiple various stamps, inclusion of my middle name, and slight lumpiness. Upon opening it, I removed a perforated parcel of purple construction paper sealed with a warning:
DO NOT REMOVE UNTIL YOU ARE READY TO GO ON YOUR JOURNEY
Along the top it said:
“Start Here and work your way down to help you discover your birthday surprise”
A SCAVENGER HUNT! After following included instructions to consult Sweetheart as to the correct time to begin, I broke the seal and was told to go north out of my apartment- after that, each paper-clipped-flap revealed further instruction on my journey to find my birthday surprise. I sang a song at the Roberson Theater, stopped in the Cuyler Gore playground, was led to Jessy’s Unisex Salon, instructed to pass by Cake Man Raven, made it to “U Kiss” Chinese all the way down to… 
Saffron Brooklyn! Upon arrival, I was instructed to go inside to see what Kana had waiting for me. Oh the suspense! The tiny shop smelled of spice and leather and fresh flowers…
True to the construction paper oracle, Kana was expecting me- with this beautiful rose hip and juniper bouquet and an impossibly tiny envelope containing a card worth 100 smackers to get anything I wanted! YES YES MARVELOUS! This adorable shop has been here for a few years (the shop and I arrived in the neighborhood around the same time) and is basically the perfect little store for yours truly: they have worn-in classic barware and weird ephemera (a lamp made of a nautilus caught my eye), an amazing selection of vintage bags and coats, and gorgeous, gorgeous flowers- more camellia than carnation, more dahlia than daisy. Read: danger for this bird. Danger UNLESS- you have an amazing birthday scavenger hunt for presents concocted and executed by the best Mama around*.
Go visit them yourselves: Start by going left…..
Saffron Brooklyn
31 Hanson Place (Between Saint Felix & Fort Greene Place) Brooklyn, NY 11217
*This is Mama who wants it to say on her tombstone:
“She Never Did Anything Half-Assed”
What Honky-Tonk Women Want
I’d love to have a deep red living room with dark built in bookshelves and a big open wall to hang this huge, awesome Alan McDonald portrait on, but, alas, I don’t. Though “dream apartment” is always on my wishlist, here are a few things that *someone* might consider getting instead to help maintain the lifestyle of the honky tonk woman. After all, we’ve always depended on the kindness of strangers. I won’t call it a gift guide if you don’t call it a comeback. Show me the way to the next whisky bar.
Heart this print from New York-based artist Jon Contino
Need Gillian Welch’s wonderful newish album, The Harrow and the Harvest, which is just as good on the indian summer open road as it is nesting in the winterdark.
Covet His/Hers/Ours Decanter set from Brooklyn’s own Love and Victory. You can also get His/His or Hers/Hers, or, if you’re like me and my “Three’s Company”, whiskey-loving roommates ca. 2006: Hers/Hers/His.
Crave raw forged steel trinkets that are as brutishly lovely as they are useful from CXXVI. Image from the divine goldust woodsmaiden.
Want to live inside the cover of this record (get us a copy? good luck finding it- listen here, a gift from the fabulous Berlin Beatet Bestes).
Or if you’re feeling really generous- perhaps a new accordion. Here are a few that look promising from Accordion Heaven.
Just Saying.
Carnivorous Plants? Grow House Grow!
Ever since getting a private tour (with wine!) of Golden Gate Park’s Conservatory of Flowers exhibit on wicked plants, I’ve had a healthy respect for carnivorous greenery. Did you know that a Venus Flytrap can snap shut in less than a second ? Or that a pitcher plant can kill and eat a monkey (A MONKEY. it’s a plant!)? I apparently share this sense of wonder-at-the-awesomeness with Brooklyn based artist Kate Deedy of Grow House Grow. Her glorious hand-illustrated wallpapers celebrate women and science, history, literature, and the supernatural- all with an impeccable sense of spatial relation. The designs are the exact right blend of playful and macabre (while also being totally beautiful). Since I can’t wallpaper my (rental) apartment- le sigh-, I decided to get a roll of this carnivorous-plant-paper to line my desk… so I can gaze with wonder at the power of a man eating plant all day.
Check out all of the other gorgeous papers here.
Blue Bottle Coffee
Even though summer is lingering as we always wish it would, confusing trees whose leaves blushed too early, thank goodness the transition from iced cold brew to hot-cha-cha coffee is still imminent. Jocie and I met for a brisk picnic lunch on The Highline and she, with a little persuasion, gave me an ad hoc architectural walking tour (awesome!). En route, we decided that if we were going to discuss Highline Architecture 101 (encompassing topics as diverse as “barrier elements mirror forms of both the in situ natural and industrial” and/or “life/work integration of public and private spaces”) that we definitely needed some coffee. ASAP. For my own life/work integration, I sort of, really, very much need, want, and have to have at least one of these single cup fast-as-lightning drip brewers from Blue Bottle Coffee. All I need is gravity and (in this case) the rarefied sideways light of the Highline over 10th avenue. Simple as that.
Friendship Octopus
Meags was in town this weekend. In addition to laughing late into the night and my favorite kind of long champagney afternoon spent talking story and just flipping and flipping the same record over and over, we also did a once-over of the Brooklyn Flea (one of the last summeryfeeling days and, hey, it’s right by my house). In a moment of utter genius we impulsively purchased matching octopus necklaces. Because although each wearing half of a heart, one side saying “Best” and the other saying “Friends” is alright, knowing that I’d like to hug her across miles of I-95 with all eight of my arms is much better. We got them at Birdhouse (which has tons of awesome blingy and fun big baubles for cheep cheep). Friendship Octopus: Highly Recommended.
Hear Us Roar!
While I count my blessings and dimes to consider if actually buying this amazing real tiger’s claw necklace is in the cards (probable verdict: quite dubious, potentially crazy, maybe just crazy enough to work??), I just had to share. Here is some info on this British Raj-era Tiger’s Claw necklace from the awesome description the girls that run this amazing shop put up:
During the Raj, European and American jewelry markets were populated with accessories that made use of India’s dense and exotic wildlife population – elephants, tigers, lions, and other fearsome beasts, and the animals’ deadly-ass claws usually were usually the centerpiece… Since the pieces were usually made when a British officer would slay a tiger or lion for sport, we’ve seen claw jewelry engraved with information about when and where – and by whom – the animal was killed. If the fact that this piece is made from a 150-year-old endangered animal does not wow you, get ready for this – it’s also vinaigrette, which is the Victorian name for little perfume lockets that women would carry around to protect themselves from unladylike smells. They were usually perforated and contained smelling salts or tiny pieces of cloth soaked in something aromatic. The designer of this particular piece hollowed out the claw and fitted it with a hinged gold screen in order to vent the fragrance inside. There is an equally ornate lid that hides the screen, should the wearer want to keep the pendant’s function a secret. Insane, right?
Since I frequently find myself in the presence of unladylike smells and I love colonialism, I’m smitten like a tiger kitten.
I also just wanted to say that I LOVE the Erica Weiner store (and the site). This badass tiger’s claw is indicative of the crazy-fabulous vintage stuff they get, but they also have totally affordable pieces (I wear this feather bracelet pretty much every day)- the new storefront is in SoHo… and the best part? It’s run by ladies. Hear them roar!
I want a new Jug
After hosting a recent michelada party on the heels of visiting the divine Miss Esser, I realized how woefully inadequate my pitcher selection is. Seriously.
So, Huey, I want a new jug. These caught my eye…
Covetous pitchers from Zinnia Cottage, VintageAbbey2, Blue Flower Vintage, Tom Laurus, and NostalgieEurope.
Put a Bird on it.
Oh! How I love thee, effortlessly floaty fine feathered seaglass silk chiffon dressing gown with little oiseaus all over it! Need. Want. Must Have. The entire Beautiful Bottoms line is gorgeous (and available at Journelle, natch).
Put a bird on it.
Feather By Feather 