State of Affairs

Stuff that is on my desk, but probably should not be:

1. Expired Frida Kahlo exhibit ticket from March.
2. Spectacularly gorgeous wrapping paper from a gift a friend gave me last week.
3. Golf balls.
4. Trouser socks.
5. One book I've finished, two others I've abandoned.
6. Old sudokus.
7. Three new crochet hooks.
8. Stray photo from my First Holy Communion party, where I look not so much holy, but more as if I'm plotting revenge.
9. Dead PDA.
10. Phone number of cleaning service.

Why Is Furniture Shopping So Hard?

I'd always considered our old dining room table a placeholder for the real dining room table we'd have someday.

Fifteen years later, it's time to upgrade.

What we have is a basic, straight-legged Ikea find made out of pine with an oval tabletop. It's a big, clunky blob in the open, airy landscape of our combined living/dining room.

All the Ikea chairs at that time felt spindly and insubstantial, as if one morning they'd snap under our weight and throw us to the floor in a heap. So we bought these shaker-inspired oak chairs that don't really go. (But they are solid!)

But have you noticed the size of some of the dining room sets that they're selling now? They seem either devoid of character or scaled to fill up a McMansion's East Wing.

Ideally, I'd like an extension table, for those times when we entertain (when we do, it tends to be for groups of 8 or more).

No pedestals, or turned or carved legs. Clean lines. Think clean lines.

Even offerings from Room & Board and Design within Reach - which despite the name are still sometimes out of reach - aren't tempting these days.

There is clearly a market here, because many friends have the same problem: Where is all the good furniture?

Bend It Like Bendant

A friend (thanks, JC!) recently informed me of MIO, a green design company located in downtown Philadelphia.

Besides MIO's aesthetic - which makes me want to paint the entire downstairs white like a gallery so a swath of their textured wallpaper on one vacant wall would make a visual/texture statement - I like what they stand for.

What drives them is creating sustainable innovation that uses recycled materials. A local milliner makes their felted bowls and lampshades. They've already garnered the attention of the design world, and have received a lot of press.

I am head-over-heels in love with their Bendant lamp (pictured, left), which would look just smashing over our dining room table.

Also? A part of me wants to work for a company like this some day.

Modernity

Yesterday, I visited the new Perelman Building at the Philadelphia Museum of Art, and while the architecture itself was something to see, for me the most interesting was the Collab exhibit, Designing Modern: 1920 to the Present.

All those Saarinen and Eames chairs remind me of my great-uncle's house, a mid-century modern affair in Northern New Jersey. The first time I stepped inside and spotted the furniture, I was enthralled.

In the living room, there was a Mies Van Der Rohe Barcelona chair. Upholstered chaise lounges shaped like the letter S. And wire Bertoia chairs. They could have been reproductions, but who cares? To me, they were like stepping into another world.

My own family's living room had pseudo-French Provincial furnishings, practically roped-off from the younger set. So know that someone in our family understood this modern design was riveting.

It was an introduction to modern lines, textures and colors that I had never seen before. I remember thinking that this is exactly the kind of furniture I could feel content to live with. Maybe I was five years old at the time?

And now, every time I see a collection of modern furnishings, it just feels like home. My own home.