i am baffled by february’s architectural digest.
it’s as if the fates heard my incessant babbling about light woods and conspired to slap me down like an overgrown puppy. HEEL, girl. HEEL.
still awake or did the parade of beige knock you out biochem textbook-style?
these spaces are not bad, per se. if a friend were to invite me to any one of these houses, i would nod my head in appreciation of a honed aesthetic in a marvelous structure.
here’s the rub: i turn to publications like arch digest to show me that there is no spoon. i do not turn to publications like arch digest to supplement my ambien prescription.
seriously, guys, what the hell? i want my money back.
skull-gripping frustration when i read this kind of thing:
“where the midcentury mexican modernists often employed planes painted in eye-popping primary colors, backen and kroeger utilized neutral hues and earthy materials.”
“the mix of modern and vintage furnishings incorporates earthy oak and bronze, leathers in shades of cream and brown, and textiles in restful watery blues and soft-lichen greens. carpets are in gentle colors that recall tree bark.”
“our marching orders were to stay within a strictly limited color palette of grays, whites, and chocolate, and to avoid anything overly decorative.”
FINE. then i don’t want to see pictures of the inside of your house in a magazine. that glorious platner table does nothing for your room except to offer me a place to put down my ginger ale before i pass out in boredom.
no, really, there is a veritable clown car of beige rooms in this issue.
the internet may not be able to fit all of them.
my mind boggles.
mercifully, these two moments offer cool relief to burning eyes:
the homeowners designed the bedsculptures and painted the floorartwork. power couple.
are you taking notes? this is what championships are made of.
as far as i’m concerned, architectural digest should have published their february issue as a 1-page flyer with these two photos and a classified ad: now hiring editors!