Friday, October 15, 2010

Dream Houses

I work at a Country Club, so sometimes I get to listen to rich people talk casually about their things. Usually I don't listen (because I really don't care), but the other day we had two tables and one of them decided to sit pretty much directly on top of the wait station (seriously guys don't do it), so I got to hear the lady talk to her mother about how they are remodeling their Hamptons house. Or something- the patio seemed to be moving west.

It doesn't really inspire jealousy in me, since I'm sure they've earned it, but it did set me to re-imagining my dream house. We all have one, right? Mine has a big piece of property, a zebra striped bathroom, and a huge work studio upstairs with all glass walls.

I walked by a design store in Soho the other day that prominently displayed a chair so orange my eyes were caught and violently dragged across the street with my body behind them, and that was when I knew:

My backyard will have to include an obnoxiously elaborate worktable setup (with somebody to clean up after me as well, of course). The chairs are big (45 lbs) and plastic, so they will need some contrast color throw pillows, which I will be only too happy to knit for them.

I will also have some gratuitously massive installation sculpture, because what is a five acre backyard without some sculpture littered about like tissues that missed the bin? Dog shit can't be the only thing that collects in the yard.

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