Friday, October 23, 2009
back for a mo'
See, I've been trying to finish my novel.
(I've been saying this exact phrase in my head for the last two years, but right now, I am utterly convinced that the end actually is within my sights. Of course this could be deceptive, similar to when my sister and I, having spotted the Eiffel Tower as we walked out of the Louvre, decided we would hoof it from one landmark to the other. We kept the Tower well within our sights for about two hours before our feet finally gave way beneath us on the grass by the Eiffel Lawn.)
Right. As I was saying, in my novel, there is a particular apartment that needs to be described. It's the apartment the protagonist and her friends live in, and I think that the interior aesthetic of the flat would be a great way to show the kind of people the protagonist and her friends are. So I've been imagining all sorts of furniture and paints and windows and drapes. And then when I was done, I realized that the flat in my head was the flat I wanted in actuality. For myself. Fancy that.
I absolutely adore the couch above (it's from the anthropologie catalog). I've been adoring similar couches for awhile now. I love the vintage tuftiness, the tres femme Marie-Antoinette-meets-my-boho-aunt vibe.
Or actually, a castle. With a library in it. And my own Duke. (Not a prince, they're too uppity. And then there's the massive amount of energy it would take to avoid the paparazzi. A duke though, is eminently do-able. He can be one of those quiet, under-the-radar aristocrats who will take on the title because nobody else will do it, but would, really, rather do something else. Like teaching. Or traveling. Or feeding the homeless.) Now if I had a castle, I could get these.
The first one as a guestroom. The second one as a chandelier for somewhere, because the black rose theme just appeals to me – it's kind of goth, kind of dark, wildly romantic and inventive, and it's pretty. Plus, done right, I think it's just Count Vlad enough to keep the pale, muted silks from being prissy. The third one, for my private lake, just because. And a nice modern kitchen with gleaming copper pots. And the library. Two floors. Of wonderful books. And then I'd also like two more brains and two more pairs of eyes, so I can read all those wonderful books before I die.
But back to work. This would be great, I think, for a New York apartment shared by three girls, although I would replace the yellow couch with the blue tufted one (secondhand, with a rip to be covered by matching fabric). And the chandelier is a bit much for a twenty-something budget, unless you're a trustafarian, so maybe a Japanese lantern or something from UO or Ikea. The fireplace would be non-working, of course, and I'm not sure I like that mirror, but everything else seems do-able, light, breezy, and perfect for a share. Maybe add a printed, slightly translucent drape on the window, change the rug to something younger, a few colored throws, a few more tchotchkes for lived-in clutter, et voila!
I've also been imagining another apartment, this one owned by a well-to-do young male.A bit more streamlined, a bit more, shall we say, polished? More dark wood on stark white walls, stainless steel on warm brick. Nicely coated with professional designer smut. Yes, I think that sounds about right. The boy in possession of the flat isn't very good at keeping up the smut though, so the place has been gradually allowed to roll back into the land of the lived in.
Oh and there's a wedding too – lots and lots of fun, and possibly the closest I will ever get to imagining a wedding of my own. The wedding in my mind is impossible (what with the site not being open to weddings, or indeed, any kind of fete, at all; and the attendees being creatures of my own making), but if I'm going to think up a dream wedding, I might as well let loose and not be bothered by trifles like possibility.
And that's it. I now scuttle back into my head.
(I've been saying this exact phrase in my head for the last two years, but right now, I am utterly convinced that the end actually is within my sights. Of course this could be deceptive, similar to when my sister and I, having spotted the Eiffel Tower as we walked out of the Louvre, decided we would hoof it from one landmark to the other. We kept the Tower well within our sights for about two hours before our feet finally gave way beneath us on the grass by the Eiffel Lawn.)
Right. As I was saying, in my novel, there is a particular apartment that needs to be described. It's the apartment the protagonist and her friends live in, and I think that the interior aesthetic of the flat would be a great way to show the kind of people the protagonist and her friends are. So I've been imagining all sorts of furniture and paints and windows and drapes. And then when I was done, I realized that the flat in my head was the flat I wanted in actuality. For myself. Fancy that.
I absolutely adore the couch above (it's from the anthropologie catalog). I've been adoring similar couches for awhile now. I love the vintage tuftiness, the tres femme Marie-Antoinette-meets-my-boho-aunt vibe.
And then I saw this and I realized I wanted to live in a library.
Or actually, a castle. With a library in it. And my own Duke. (Not a prince, they're too uppity. And then there's the massive amount of energy it would take to avoid the paparazzi. A duke though, is eminently do-able. He can be one of those quiet, under-the-radar aristocrats who will take on the title because nobody else will do it, but would, really, rather do something else. Like teaching. Or traveling. Or feeding the homeless.) Now if I had a castle, I could get these.
The first one as a guestroom. The second one as a chandelier for somewhere, because the black rose theme just appeals to me – it's kind of goth, kind of dark, wildly romantic and inventive, and it's pretty. Plus, done right, I think it's just Count Vlad enough to keep the pale, muted silks from being prissy. The third one, for my private lake, just because. And a nice modern kitchen with gleaming copper pots. And the library. Two floors. Of wonderful books. And then I'd also like two more brains and two more pairs of eyes, so I can read all those wonderful books before I die.
But back to work. This would be great, I think, for a New York apartment shared by three girls, although I would replace the yellow couch with the blue tufted one (secondhand, with a rip to be covered by matching fabric). And the chandelier is a bit much for a twenty-something budget, unless you're a trustafarian, so maybe a Japanese lantern or something from UO or Ikea. The fireplace would be non-working, of course, and I'm not sure I like that mirror, but everything else seems do-able, light, breezy, and perfect for a share. Maybe add a printed, slightly translucent drape on the window, change the rug to something younger, a few colored throws, a few more tchotchkes for lived-in clutter, et voila!
I've also been imagining another apartment, this one owned by a well-to-do young male.
Oh and there's a wedding too – lots and lots of fun, and possibly the closest I will ever get to imagining a wedding of my own. The wedding in my mind is impossible (what with the site not being open to weddings, or indeed, any kind of fete, at all; and the attendees being creatures of my own making), but if I'm going to think up a dream wedding, I might as well let loose and not be bothered by trifles like possibility.
And that's it. I now scuttle back into my head.
1:48:00 AM
