Entries in Red (19)

Wednesday
Sep282011

Can you find the common 'thread'?

Monday
Sep262011

Home Tour: Eclectic 750 SF in Charlotte

 

This month's Friendly Home Tour is of Craig Jackson's 750 square foot condo in Uptown Charlotte, NC. If you love diverse patinas, modern art, and masculine farmhouse-chic styling, you're going to love this space! Each piece in Craig's home has a story and draws you in with color, texture or light. Who knew so many different styles could work so well together in such a small space? 

 

Craig has been one of my closest friends since I moved to Charlotte, and has taught me gobs about design - even though I didn't realize it at the time. He's hilarious, has the best handwriting of anyone I know, and he's definitely a very talented "picker." He has the ability to see past the dents, dirt and grime {and the patience to remove the grime}, to imagine a vintage or antique piece in a new and functional form.

Craig & Bruno, one of his two sweet doggies, relaxing in the den.
I give Craig most of the credit for teaching me how to see and appreciate vintage and antique cast-offs. When I moved to Charlotte in 1999, Craig used to take me "antiquing," but not at antique shops or even thrift shops. Rather, we'd drive to remote spots in the country side where the "antique shop" was mostly outdoors on a property covered with what looked like decaying bits of history: industrial tables, cabinets, wood chairs, glass, cast iron everywhere - he even found decorative pieces buried in the dirt! I wonder if that place is still open? Craig, I think a reunion trip may be in order. 

The good news is - Craig uses and shares many of his talents as a home designer in Charlotte making up the other half of Vasseur Home Design {Peter being the first half.} Their complementary skill sets and fun personalities make them an award-winning design team - literally...they've won a lot of awards for their historic home renovations. Craig is responsible for the interior planning and design of client renovations and new-home building projects. You can flip through their stunning portfolio here. You can follow Vasseur Home Design on Facebook, too - here.

Even though Craig doesn't think he has a "style," as you'll read in my interview with him, I think his style is mod, but eclectic with repurposed industrial cast-offs, and hints of modern farmhouse. He also uses colorful and bold local and vintage art pieces, including his own art, throughout his condo. So maybe he's right...I'm having a hard time labeling his "style" as well. What do you think?

 

I took both daytime and evening photos because {Craig INSISTED} Craig understands the value of mood lighting in a space, and made superb lighting choices. You can see all the photos of Craig's condo on my Flickr page here.



My interview with Craig...
{me}   Describe your style. 

 

{Craig}   I think what best describes my sense of style is that I really don't have one. I have them all. I like everything and I think that's probably apparent in the photos.

Craig's den, kitchen and office nook all function together in one open space.

View from office nook to the hallway that leads to the foyer, bathroom and bedroom.

{me}   Your one-bedroom condo is about 750 square feet,  how does that affect the way you design your space? What are the advantages and challenges of living in and designing a small space?

{Craig}   I absolutely love living in a small space. It forces me to really think about the things I need vs. the things I want. Sometimes you score and achieve both goals, but I think if I lived in anything really big, I'd end up on one of those 'Hoarders' episodes. The smaller footprint keeps me focused on what's really important because things and spaces absolutely have to be used. You can liven the walls with some superfluous stuff, but the core spaces have to function. Hopefully they look good too.
The real challenge? When I find something that really catches my eye, I think about whatever piece I currently have that this new find would have to replace - there's no room for "more". I just weigh which I like better, and decide from there. At this point, if something new comes in, something old has to go. It keeps it simple, so maybe that's a challenge and an advantage.
{me} {Case in point... I photographed Craig's home three times over the course of two weeks and captured some of his new additions. He bought the new gold leather chair to replace the black leather and chrome chair in the den, and a new sleek office chair replaced the vintage wood chair.}

Plus, for what I need, it's senseless to live in a three bedroom, den, & family room kind of space just to have "space". I don't care for waste on all levels.
Modern chair is a stunning contrast to the 150 year old farm table & chipped door

{me}   How has your style changed over the past 10 years?

 

{Craig}   I think like anyone else, I just keep refining it. The core of my design sensibility hasn't really changed. The fundamentals, to me anyway, are timeless. I have some old photos of my condo and though most big things remain the same, I look around now and think how much the space has evolved to another level with just the detail changes. I think that's true for most everyone though. I don't know how many people pull 180's with their sense of what they like now vs. what they liked a decade ago.

{me}   Where do you get your pieces?

{Craig}  Everywhere. Flea markets, antique stores, junk yards, cast-offs from friends (I can't believe some of the stuff people want to get rid of), and a lot of my mom's old stuff she doesn't want anymore. She's a die-hard antique collector.

200-year old Portuguese cobblers bench and vintage rug greet guests upon entry.



I love this little vignette - that vintage doggie painting is fabulous! 


Craig made this center island table with vintage wood table top & new metal pipes.



{me}   What is your favorite "vignette" in your home right now and why?

 

{Craig}   The office nook, for sure. I think that spot is a really great snapshot of my taste in a single frame. I really like the 150-year-old farm table with the $79 Ikea Tobias chair. Whatever. (in a good way, not the snarky 90's way). That pocket has a little of everything and the lighting at night in that area is unbelievable.

Craig's office nook AFTER with new chair

 























































































{me}   How do you keep the clutter down in a small space? Any simplifying or organizational tips for non-organized people like me?

 

{Craig}   You know, I really don't try to keep clutter down. My best advice? If you really use it, show it. I just like to try and get the most interesting "tools" I can find. I think the transparency adds to the space. I'd love to have a back-lit glass door refrigerator. I'd buy the healthiest, best looking groceries I could show off. Health insurance companies should buy us those fridges. We'd all be better off and healthier for it.

 


 

 



{me}   How do you decide which pieces to buy?

 

{Craig}    To sum up what I think constitutes the best "style": If you like it, buy it. Don't over-think what's going to match this or not go with that. That's how you end up with one of those catalogue-style spaces. I appreciate the stories that go with each piece I have and the fact that guests always ask about them, and that they really "get" the space as a whole. It creates authentic interest that shows you really thought about it. Or more importantly, that maybe you didn't think too much about it at all.

Oh, and I'd also like to add that, yes, I'm the infamous "Unkie" from Chanee's September 4th home tour post. Kate & Peter's daughter wanted a KISS poster and Unkie's job was to find her the best one he could. I make no apologies.


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Thank you so much, Mr. Jackson for opening up your home to me, and for sharing your design sensibilities with us!

You can see the rest of the photos of Craig's condo on my Flickr page here.

 

Tuesday
Apr052011

Which Outdoor Rug?

As promised, here's my outdoor rug round up for my little patio makeover. I've narrowed down my choices to four eco-friendly styles. Now I want to know which rug you think I should use on my patio. Please help me choose! Just leave a comment with your vote for the rug you think would look best on my patio {see before photo below}.

1.  Tauna Kilim Indoor and Outdoor Rug from Pottery Barn made from recycled polymers.

my neglected patio in waiting 



Wednesday
Mar302011

Get Out! Three Looks for Your Patio

Even though the cold and rainy weather has kept me inside and away from my patio refresh project most of the week, I'm still eager to give my patio a little makeover. Especially since there are so many home furnishing stores featuring eco-friendly outdoor furniture and accessories this season - yay!  If you're in the market for some new patio furniture, you'll have many stylish earth-friendlier options to choose from this year.

Since there are so many eco-friendly outdoor decor styles available, I couldn't create just one patio style board - so I created THREE boards using three different color palettes. Which is your favorite style?

Friday
Mar042011

Meet My Sponsor: Luncheonette Vintage

Happy Friday, everyone! I'm very excited to introduce you to my newest blog sponsor, Jana of Luncheonette Vintage. I think you'll love Jana's vintage wares as much as I do. Luncheonette Vintage serves up vintage in many wonderful forms...clothing, boots, purses, jewelry and home decor - plus, there's blue plate specials you don't want to miss. I hope you enjoy the two boards I created featuring the vintage-chic pieces from her shop. Lookie! I did my first vintage fashion board because I was so inspired by the tasty clothing and accessories in Jana's shop.

I'm so happy and grateful Jana let me interview her so you all could learn a bit more about the green, country-living, object-editing woman behind the shopfront. Prepare to be entertained. Jana is quite the writer and storyteller. 



{me}   Welcome, Jana. Tell me about your vintage shop on Etsy, and why you decided to open it.
{Jana}   I opened the luncheonette way back in July of 2008 — in digital years isn't that practically an eon? I didn't really decide, 'hey, I'm going to have an etsy shop' and do it whole hog. I didn't have a plan, so it would take a while to become the Luncheonette it is today.
To be honest, the catalyst was a violent domestic implosion. In 2006, life as I knew it — and all the things in it — plunged down a giant, divorce-induced rabbit hole. I'd lived in a venerable old farmhouse with so many rooms (13) that I could have made my own museum if I'd wanted to. I'm a writer, which requires a certain kind of creative downtime, and used to play bass and guitar in a lot of bands too, which fosters a great appetite for vintage of all forms. I filled the farmhouse's rooms with quilts and old yard sale furniture and hand-me-downs, sewed curtains out of old 1920s cottons and linens, and turned the kitchen into a 1930s period piece. First I went for that calico-homespun look, then began to pare it back until the house had a sort of Bauhaus-farmhouse sparseness. And there were always people staying there: family, friends, so I actually had to furnish the place.
But I was always looking, always editing: it's how I was raised. My father's a photographer and my mother was an abstract painter (and probably still is, up in that studio in the sky), and their favorite family activities besides going out to eat were going to museums and galleries and exploring barn sales in faraway vacation spots. They were a bit eccentric and very intellectual, and I grew up surrounded by 50s modern, 30s office furniture (my grandfather was the stationery king of Jersey City), antiques, tons of books and cameras, and paintings. I distinctly remember trying to stick both my feet into a 1950s wooden ice bucket made in Denmark, and having my mother stop me by saying, "you are just about to ruin a perfect example of form and function." I was 4. She found these amazingly linear, elegant chairs in a barn in Pennsylvania; they turned out to be Beidermeir but that's not why she'd bought them. She just liked the way they looked. Of course I added my own punk rock, rebel take to all of this, shuffling around thrift stores an old 40s suit jacket and combat boots. But it was all about developing an eye.
So here I was: post divorce, post farmhouse, staring at a lifetime's worth of vintage and antiques and souvenirs and kitsch, now crammed into a cinderblock storage unit with a rolling gate. I've always been a little animist about objects: they all have their own character and life to me. Now I had all these orphan cups, these empty picture frames and rootless quilts. In the past I might have thrown a giant yard sale and be done with it: vintage requires a certain existentialism or you'll wind up buried beneath it all. But I also wanted, somehow, to replicate that lost sense of home and respect the spirit of half a lifetime of collecting, if that makes any sense. There was still an ethos of humanity and food and warmth surrounding this stuff. I kept imagining an old diner: capacious booths, shenango and buffalo china and Syracuse plates and endless pieces of pie and cups of coffee and triple decker sandwiches. And someone nice to take your order and bring you that openface. I've spent a lot of time working in restaurants, too. And one summer night, it all fell together like a good meatloaf. Throw in enough ketchup and breadcrumbs and you've got yourself a blend.

{me}   What do you look for when selecting items to sell in your shop? 

{Jana}   In home decor and housewares, I'm more and more drawn to surfaces, to timeworn items, to pieces that speak of not just a manufactured past, but a handled past: the sign of hands on a tool; the sign of wear on wood and fabric. Lately I've been in love with ironstone, ticking, wood. There is something amazing about everyday ticking in those indigo blue and white stripes: it still retains a sense of utility and functions as it's been meant to for well more than a hundred years. Yet sometimes a piece will be absolutely positively vintage, but it's kind of awful in a very nonredeeming way: the other day I passed up a 1960s green plastic pitcher for that reason. And I'll never be a chintz and rose-embellished teacup place. I think I like humble pieces more and more. And artifacts, books, items with utility and mechanics. Maybe I'm just calming down. But the more I do this, the more I realize there's are endless flavors to vintage, and some really are far too saccharine and overwrought for me.
I've become a bit more exacting in clothing as well: I look for well made, decent pieces that aren't in rough shape (I hate reading a description that says, "but you can hardly see the rip!"). I love clothes with a certain essence that really reflects their era: a geometrically patterned 1970s knit dress, a 1940s grey suit with a nipped in jacket and pleated skirt. I love boots and shoes and accessories. Having been a performer I get crazy over the costumey stuff too, I admit. And I love menswear. Dad schooled me on Brooks Brothers way back in the day. That whole heritage clothing movement kind of amuses me; the "urban rustic" look just seems like another fad and I recently had a blast throwing into the debate on A Continuous Lean. But I've always loved the rough-edged classics: old plaid wool shirts, hunting gear, old uniforms. I love workwear. Hats. Gabardine. Worsted. Union labels are another endless thrill. Old overalls. Did I mention workboots? I wore them under my dress to my first piano recital and haven't changed a bit. And old, old suitcases. Always and forever. Tweed, especially. I am trying to convince myself to part with some and sell them in the luncheonette.

{me}   What is your decorating style? 
{Jana}   I'm very affected by the place I live in. When in college in a small town in Ohio, I'd tear through bins in this crazy thrift shop in the second floor of a ramshackle house, looking for brown. I remember turning a dorm room into a 1940s stage set: rusty brown barkcloth curtains and battered old sepia wool armchairs and a rickety general electric fan — I was thinking of an old couple listening to the radio during the war. When I lived in Miami and Tucson, it was sunbelt retro 50s housewife: that was the fiestaware and boomerang coffee table era. Biggest regret from then: it's a tossup between the turquoise rickenbacker bass I sold for plane fare, and a chartreuse loveseat I couldn't transport. Now, living in this very rural area with tons of history still standing, it's more 1930s farmhouse, brought up to, say the 1950s, with lots of artifacts from the 19th century filtering in. I guess it's that Bauhaus-farmhouse look again, but on a smaller scale: 1 or 2 of each.
Just to give you a picture, I'm answering this at our kitchen table: a 1950s green and white freckled formica table with an abstract leaf pattern, chrome edging and metal legs. I'm sitting in an old wooden chair, a very basic kitchen chair that was whitewashed in a past decade. In parts, that paint has since worn away. A small dwarf rose is growing in an old chipped ceramic planter in the window. There's a loaf of just-baked bread sitting on top of a pink milk glass cake stand. We keep our receipts in a brushed aluminum sugar canister from the 1940s. The light rounds around it so beautifully. That's the thing: the simpler the form, the more the light can do. The kitchen curtains are just yards of old, very faded floral cotton from the 1920s, hanging from string and attached with old metal darkroom clips. Not a lot of fuss, but sweet. Surface made luminous by wear and time, a kind of functional, practical integrity.

{me}   What are some eco-friendly things you do personally or at your shop? 
{Jana}   Organic isn't even a question: we live in the Catskills, where there are amazing local and organic farms (and we'll have a kitchen garden this spring), and we've turned this little acre into a farm: we have pigeons, chickens, dogs, and a kitchen garden. For the shop, I launder vintage clothing and linens in green soaps and try to minimize the shop's environmental impact in terms of packaging. The idea of adding any more plastic to the oceans, the environment, the land — it's awful. So I bought a shredder and whenever i can, I fill packages with shredded paper instead of styrofoam or bubble wrap. Selling vintage is in itself an eco-centric gesture: if we can stretch the lifespan of material goods that much longer, perhaps in a small way we're reducing the mess we make on the earth. And politically, I'd say we're not just eco-friendly, we're eco-driven. We're both involved in the fight against hydrofracking, which could ruin this place forever. We dwell in a world that is very animal centric and driven by the laws of nature and weather. My (new) husband is a dog trainer, and we've both been very active in the world of Search and Rescue, where you're in the wilderness with your dog, working to find lost and missing people. We're outside, in the woods, in the natural world, all the time. There is no way to not be eco-centric.
Aside from writing, music, animals, and vintage, I love photography, love design, love cooking. When I can, I'm a runner: that's the only way to slow my brain down. I do actually make a lot of pie. 

Jana, I'm so inspired by your vintage shop, your rockin' eco-sensibility and your beautiful life in the Catskills. Thank you so much for this incredible interview and your sponsorship!

You can find Jana chatting away with her friends on Twitter as lunchvintage. She also has a blog she's recently resurrected, which Jana describes as being "all about the marvelous intersections of fiction and vintage since I'm also in the process of writing a novel." Swing over to her blog to read all the goodness:  janasluncheonette.blogspot.com

When Jana's done writing her novel, I'll be the first one in line to get a copy.