I have a weakness for Dollarama.

There. I said it.

For the most part, I avoid mass-market consumption. I buy my clothes at Goodwill, I eschew Walmart. I shop at mainstream supermarkets, but I try to hit up the farmer's markets too. I'm not perfect by any means, but I TRY.

But somehow, when it comes to Dollarama, my ethics fly out the window and my cheap, miserly self comes to the fore.

I can't help it. I'm OBSESSED with Dollarama.

A new location opened up near my place in the last month, and it's so bright and shiny and well stocked. I feel lured there by the bright florescent lights and cheap craft supplies.

And lest you think I'm just a crazy lady, I wanted to post today about some of my absolute-favourite Dollarama deals. Because they have some GREAT stuff, yo.

Case in point: Art Blanc notebooks. These sweet, hard-backed, high quality babies come from Russia and are sold in gift shops for $12 (or more). They're $2 a piece at Dollarama. They're authentic. AND they're gorgeous. Lots of patterns are available.

For the crafty among you, the Dollarama possibilities are endless, but my latest thing is making these storage containers for my niece (who has a million little bits and bobs to organize). You can get everything you need for this project at Dollarama: the hard animals (usually 4 or more for $1), the jars, the paint, and the epoxy glue. Amazeballs.

And if you want some insta-pretty (no crafting required) check out these glass rose votive/tea-light holders. (I have resisted buying any so far, because we can't handle more knick knacks, but I'm very tempted.)

Finally, I check out the garden section, where there is a seemingly endless supply of cute animals that can be spray painted and turned into chic book ends and that sort of thing. My house is turning into a menagerie. No joke.

I love Dollarama. I really do. But I truly feel guilty about it. In fact, I semi-hate myself... but I just can't stop shopping there. I'm addicted.

Is there a Dollarama addicts support group? Anyone? Anyone?

P.S. What's wrong with Dollarama? Well, I haven't done a LOT of research, but it's pretty safe to assume that many of their products, like those at Wal-Mart, are produced in sweat shop conditions, quite possibly by child labour. This is exactly the opposite of the sort of thing I would like to support with my consumer dollars... Sigh.

So... I'm a little OCD.

Okay, I'm more than a little OCD. But it's not that bad.

I don't have OCD in that amusing "I'm such an organized perfectionist!" sort of way. Rather, I am obsessive in the l "I lie awake all night worrying" sort of way, and compulsive in the "it's 3am and I MUST scrub down the cabinets" sort of way. Neither of which is a good.

But it could be a lot worse, so I try not to complain about it.

Here's the latest thing I'm obsessing about: making everything in my kitchen cabinets "match."

Remember back when I blogged about French bistro glasses? Well, since then, I've converted nearly all my glassware to matching, bistro-style sets. The only glasses in my cabinet that aren't faceted are the wine glasses.


And it's bothering me.

So I'm thinking of getting new wine glasses. (Even though I hardly use the ones I have and there's not a thing wrong with them anyway.)

I'm considering these new Pokal ones, from IKEA:

I should confess that already (just last week, in fact) I indulged in a set of six teeny weenie shot-sized bistro glasses that I absolutely didn't need.

Of course, I didn't HAVE six matching shot glasses already. And the set (also IKEA) was only $2.99. So I felt semi-justified... but ... BUT ...

Would getting the wine glasses be going too far? Would the all-matching, all-faceted look even be a good thing? Or am I being too obsessive again?

P.S. Happy Leap Day! ;)

So I was flipping through the March issue of Toronto Life the other day (which is NOT a favourite magazine, but my subscription was dirt cheap) when I came across the following picture and associated feature in the Navigator/Great Spaces section:

I saw it and I thought, "Hmmm... I recognize that banquette. AND that light fixture. Isn't this a Sarah Richardson space?"

But then I looked at the rest of the photos and thought, "No way. This is NOT Sarah's style."

Check out the other half of the living room:

Sorry about the seam. I had to scan these pages.

Anyway, a little research reveals that I was right! That IS a Sarah Richardson banquette, and the space was formerly featured on Richardson's old show, Design Inc.

However, the house has since been sold and redesigned by the new owners. Alex Bozikovic (writer of the Toronto Life story) reports that Karen Pilosof, one of the new owners, felt the old space looked "like a boutique hotel . . . it was absolutely beautiful, but the owners probably had no children. It was too serious. I had to make it more family-oriented and more playful."

So let's take a look at the space before the redesign. Here's what Sarah Richardson did initially:

So what do you think of this makeover? (Or make-under, as it were?) Was Sarah's initial design too perfect? If you'd bought this house, would you have changed it? I'm curious.

I blogged for Nyman Ink about an interesting development in the world of Pinterest today.

And then I promptly deleted all my boards.

Read the blog and the associated links for the whole story, but the basic gist is this:
Pinterest (like many social media sites) just isn't COOL. The terms of service aren't cool.

I love social media and I want to use these great new services, but I just can't get behind this kind of legal manipulation. Until something changes, I won't be using Pinterest. I've created a poster (a very simple, kind of ugly poster) to that effect.

Feel free to pin it and share it. It's free.

Technically I own it, because I made it, but I give you all permission to use it, pin it, post it on your blogs, etc. Go nuts.

See? See how out in the open and easy and clear that was? That's how Pinterest should be.

Lame Terms of Service aren't chic. Spread the word.

Maybe I'm just a jerk. I don' t know. Maybe no one else feels this way and this rant will lose me followers and friends, but I don't care. I have to let it out. I have to make this confession so that it will stop burning a hole in my heart:

I hate helping you decorate.

Not ALL of you. Just some of you. I love decorating, and I enjoy working on my own place and on the homes of friends who are easy to deal with, but most of the time "helping" other people with their houses is a big fat pain in the bum.

Ya, I said it.

I don't know how real designers and decorators do it. I really don't. Because "clients" kind of suck. Not all of the time, but some of the time. Most of the time when you're me.

_
Here's how my decorating woes usually play out.

1. Someone sees my apartment (in real life, on the blog, on Facebook, wherever). And they love it. (Yay!) Said someone gets in touch immediately to ask for "help" with their home. Help means "I'm not going to pay you, but don't worry, this will be fun and easy!"

2. I'm nice, so I say "Okay, I will help you." I do this out of the goodness of my heart, because as stated, I am nice. And also because I have trouble saying no.

3. I ask a few simple questions such as "What rooms were you hoping to work on? What were you hoping to change? Can you tell me a bit more about what you like and don't like? Do you have a budget in mind?" Sometimes, I even send people to my Pinterest boards, telling them to pull the pictures they like and point out the ones they don't like. This will help, I say.

4. Nothing happens for weeks because no one ever seems to want to answer these simple questions. A month later, said someone gets in touch again. "Want to go to IKEA with me and my eight screaming children!? I need your heeeeeellllp!"

5. Again, I agree. Because I said I would help and this appears to be the help you want. Off to IKEA (or Home Sense, or Home Depot, or Structube, or whereEVER we go). Said someone brings his/her partner, pets and children. Chaos ensues. It's like herding cats.

6. As a group, we manage to buy one major item (a sofa, a rug, a chair, a dining set). Said someone doesn't want to pay for shipping, so we move these items ourselves. And when I say ourselves, I mean "myself" along with a grumpy husband who hasn't worked out in awhile. We haul the new item home.

7. Back at someone's house, chaos resumes. It's now 8 p.m. and the kids are up past their bedtime, so will I come back another day to help unwrap and place the new piece(s)? Of course I will!

Yep. I'm still being a bad blogger, but I do have some news. I'm getting REALLY CLOSE to the proper launch of my web store: Will & Bequeath! I even put together this little collage of some of the stuff that I'll be listing. 

What do you think, world? Are these little vintage dealies interesting enough? I think the store will end up having a lot of glassware. And I've realized I seem to have a penchant for animal object -- hipster squirrels, horse book ends, that sort of thing. Feedback would be greatly appreciated!

I've been a bad blogger for awhile now, I know. There's been some stuff going on, and I haven't been feeling too well. But that's no excuse! (Maybe I'll get around to sharing some of the details in the personal blog soon.) In the meantime, I thought I'd write a quick and dirty post about a few of the things I JUST love but don't have. For example:

The Dwell Studio Peacock Citrine bedding set.

ACTUALLY, what I really (really) want is bedding like this, as seen in the Design*Sponge Sneak Peek of  Susan and William Brinson's house. But I have no idea what it is. The Dwell bedding, if unaffordable, is at least available.

Anyway. Onward. I would also like:

A Moravian Star light fixture (or hanging candle holder, or whatever - I just love the Moravian star shape in general).

Some kind of giant, rustic chopping block or cheese platter thingy.

A big fat (complete?) Jadeite collection, a-la Martha Stewart.

Vintage pheasant (or peacock) salt and pepper set (metal).

Anyway. These are just the things I'm thinking about getting when I win the lottery.

Have a good weekend, everyone. I'll try to get back to proper blogging next week.

This isn't a real blog post. It's a wee little blog post. (This week has been crazy.)

Anyway, I just wanted to point out this old photo of Michael Penney's old apartment (shown in House & Home June 2009, photo by Angus Fergusson).

See those birds on the lower left? The pair of pheasants or peacocks or whatever they are?

Do they look familiar!?

If you read the Chic blog regularly, they should. They're EXACTLY like the ones I found at the junk store and spray painted white. (Only, MP's are more of a glossy cream colour.)

In the product listing on the House and Home site, MP's birds are said to be from Value Village. They're also called "ceramic" which I highly doubt. But regardless, they're the same!

I feel strangely validated by this connection. If Michael Penney and I have the similar tastes, I MUST be chic ... right?

Hooray!

So, people have been raving (and railing) about Pinterest for awhile now. I requested an invite to join many months ago, received one, and promptly forgot all about it. I had/have enough to do online without one more network, clogging up the works.

And then, in the last few weeks, I started to come across my OWN photos, on other people's sites and blogs, credited to "Pinterest" instead of to me.

And that annoyed me.

What I did next is pretty weird. I joined Pinterest (username: JenSelkPINS). Alas, Jen Selk was already taken.

I just wanted to see how it worked. I get the basic concept. Pinterest makes it easy to save and catalogue images. It's like a virtual inspiration board. And to that end, the network works very well indeed. It sort of helps us realize our personal styles and tastes.

As of today, I've created four "pin boards" and I've "pinned" 82 images. If you look at my boards, you can see themes emerge. The homes I love are eclectic, often colourful, busy, full of art and knick knacks. I've always known I'm a more-is-more person, but Pinterest really shows (in pictures) exactly what speaks to me.  Alternately, when considering a cottage look, I like lots of raw wood, white, stone and rustic accents. Who knew?

So yeah. I'm using the site. And I see what's appealing about it. But EVERY TIME I've pinned an image, I've included as much credit information as possible, including initial source, owner, photographer's name, etc.

And I'm writing today to tell you to do the same.

I am generally very easy going about my creative property. I'm often happy to let people share, reblog, and use my web writing and photographs within reason... as long as I'm given credit. Please... give me credit. It's the respectful thing to do.

Pinterest may be great. I can see plenty of other issues besides the one mentioned here arising in the future (if they haven't already), but at the same time, I get it. I'm not a huge convert, but I'm on board in theory. I just think we all need to use the service consciously, and do our part to make it as ethical as possible when it comes to sharing other people's property.

Okay. Done now.

Man, I love Twitter. The Twitterverse turns me on to the greatest stuff.

One of the nicest and most stylish peeps I follow is Amy Beth Dragoo of ABCD Designs and the other day, she tweeted about this amazing ceramic artist:
Sophie Woodrow.

Love it. Thanks Amy Beth. Thanks Sophie!