Frankenshimas

Once upon a time there was a young couple with a fondness for hand-crafted organic modern furniture. Though their tastes varied, his a bit more masculine and hers a bit more feminine, together, they enjoyed the discovery and adventure in the hunt.  They could not believe their eyes one day while perusing online when they spotted two chairs with the stink of Nakashima on them in a place called Cedar Hill.  In case you have never been to Cedar Hill, it has no reputation for being a hotbed of iconic furniture.  These looked exactly like the famous three legged Mira chairs (the chair Nakashima named after his daughter) ... at least the top of the chair looked like a Mira chair.  The bottom, however, had one extra leg. 

Their first reaction naturally was "I guess not" but you could feel the internment camp in this photo of the chairs.  They sat down together at the computer with squinted eyes - shaking their heads, perplexed at the extra leg in the front.  They laughed and made jokes at the expense of a hillbilly they had never met "fixin' these funny lookin' chairs with Granny's broomstick and Pa's cane." They imagined maybe times were hard and these people needed "some kindlin' for the fireplace." Their laughter faded as the husband decided to make the rush hour hall down to Cedar Hill to meet the heir of these fine chairs.  Tears fill his eyes as he flips the chairs over to find the slaughtered remnants of the third leg, stumps crying out that "Yes!," they were once legs crafted by a master.  He slumps over as he sees the remnant of the tag with that four syllable name that conjures up images of something exquisitely beautiful.  It takes all of his strength not to curse this woman's grandfather.  He calls his wife, who is also heartbroken, but clearheaded enough to advise him not to swear at the innocents but to purchase the chairs anyway as they may be able to have them repaired.
 
He heads back North crestfallen, pulls in the driveway, carries the chairs inside and sets them down less gently than he may have if they were in their original state. He and his wife sit down, squinting their eyes again like they are looking at their own ugly newborn baby and they imagine ..... to be a fly on the wall that day when the Frankenshimas got their extra legs.

Our little Frankenshimas

Hurts...Doesn't it?

The amputee

Painful yet?

Toss Up - Adrian Pearsall vs. Frank Fagan, "The Loonie"

 So this week it's a toss up and I leave it up to you to decide if the find of the week is a fantastic Adrian Pearsall barrel chair OR this 1911 edition of Selected Poems inscribed: 
"Hap" - Age 6 - Grade 4 - T'chr - Mr Crowder -
Address ggxyz Cow Alley, Fishburn
next door to Frank Fagan, the loonie. 
Both classics.

Vieux Covets

Check out these beauties by semi-local Michael Yates of Austin.... Hans Wegner meets Frank Lloyd Wright meets Japan - TRIFECTA!!!!!

REALLY?

1970s Virgina Slims ad via teenangster.net

So I am sorting through this box of the most fabulous photos of two African American families from the late 1800s through the 70s from two estates that we bought this summer and I come across this little 1976 booklet of LOVE COUPONS. The cover reassuringly says ... For a Very Special Guy, a very special gift... Oh goody I think to myself, I'll throw a few of these my husband's way... just to keep it fresh. And then I start reading them...

COUPON NUMBER UN

Yech! Yech! Double Yech!

I may hate it, but for you I'll cook it. One ethnic meal of your choice.

Really? Is there a marital disconnect that I am unaware of - men all over the world disgusted at their wife's refusal to cook an ethnic meal? I want to give this to my husband just so I can see the look on his face when he realizes the coupon is not good for a BJ and then hear the pusillanimous "thank you?"

COUPON NUMBER DEUX 

This coupon good for instant forgiveness, one time only,

for wearing any one of the following:

One strange female hair, one mighty peculiar lipstick smudge, one perfume scent I never wear.

REALLY? Because this problem...ADULTERY.... is actually an issue for most marriages and the last time I checked no f***ing coupon was a magic fix. 

COUPON NUMBER TROIS

This coupon good for 60 seconds of penalty-free ogling of the opposite sex. Caution: Penalty goes into effect at 61st second. (Double caution: Ogling member of the same sex may invalidate entire coupon book.)

REALLY? Pay close attention to the last part there because at this point I start to feel a little guilty. It becomes apparent that this poor girl who wrote the LOVE COUPONS is still unsure whether or not her Very Special Guy is straight or gay.

Needless to say- "We've come a long way baby ."

Influenza Inspired

photo - Karsten Schneider for National Geographic

I have the flu and I am feeling rather uninspired - I decided to search for inspiration in the flu itself, but I am afraid that the only thing inspired and influenza share is the same number of letters... yes friends, the well, unlike my lungs, is dry.

Do you see the the nasty little brown plunkers invading the beautiful blue cilia of my smoke free lungs?  This is God's special reward for me for volunteering in my daughter's kindergarten class last Friday.  My hazy mind recollects the slow motion of forty four two inch fingers brushing across twenty two little cartilaginous noses before they stage dive into the crowd of festering infectious markers, glue sticks and crayons. Why stop at washable markers Crayola? How about self sanitizing aromatherapy washable markers with dosing caps? Now that's inspiration...

Japanese Weekend

We had a very big weekend - we found a fab Danish couch with pristine upholstery and the "butterload" (my six year old's word for motherload) of Asian smalls, we scored a cerused black mid-century bedroom set, a very large red buddha, a round yellow Asian / midcentury table, at least a hundred pieces of 50s and 60s clothing and lots lots more but my favorite far and away are five antique stained glass panels....check out these three

The Shoemaker

“Him that makes shoes go barefoot himself.” - Burton—Anatomy of Melancholy. Democritus to the Reader. P. 34. (Ed. 1887).

Look at these beauties. I traded for these chairs... it was a good trade.  She got four Russell Wrights and I got two Albinis. I did not know that they were Albinis at the time.  I was looking for something "fun" for my daughter's room.  I want to go back, to the day that I bought them before I discovered that they were Albinis when they were just cute and retro and perfect for her room.  I want to go back to the second that I clicked on the site where I saw another broken Albini child's chair with no upholstery sell online for more than my car is worth.  Because in the very next second,  I leapt from the computer petrified and stumbling down the hall just in time to witness my daughter poised one-legged on a leaning Albini trying to get a dress out of the closet. I reprimanded her for not innately knowing what whack switch had flipped in her mother while lovingly moving the pair to a corner of the living room where I thought I could "keep an eye" on them. I have spent the bulk of a very protective year now witnessing things like my naked one year old straddling the chairs like a water skier holding a spoonful of peanut butter in one hand and a grape filled metal Ferrari in the other while pounding them both on the fragile wicker loops on the back.  Screw it, it is time to sell -  they are going to perish in my home.  I am tired of my failed attempts at conveying to any overweight guest that the American Empire rocker is much more comfortable than the tiny wicker child's chair and could they please eat their f***ing Krispy Kremes on grown up furniture before they kill the iconic Albini.  They are a pair. They are a very rare pair.  They are a very rare pair of children's chairs. They are a very rare pair of Franco Albinis with the original sparkly atomic vinyl and they deserve better than this shoemaker.