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.

Back in September 2011, I saw a photo in House & Home magazine that I really loved.

There were a lot of things I liked about the photo, and a lot of small DIYs I hoped to replicate, but the but that really stuck with me was the bedside lamp. (I've pointed to it in the photo.)

The inside of the shade was painted gold (a look I love -- I've painted a lot of my shades gold in similar fashion). But what you can't really see is that there was also a message written inside the shade. In black marker, I think.

LOVE! What a fun idea!

I've finally done it myself, using my desk lamp, which has a large black linen drum shade on it. I'd already painted the interior of the shade gold (a couple of years ago, actually), so all that was left to do was add the message.

I used a big fat Grand & Toy permanent black market (roundedge) and I loosely scrawled messages throughout the inside of the shade. I didn't over think it. Instead of agonizing about the words, I just free associated little bits and pieces of poetry I have memorized from my long years as an English student. There's a lot of Sylvia Path, a bit of Elizzabeth Bishop, some E. E. Cummings... it's not formal and it's not really visible from the outside. When the light is on, the writing can be seen only faintly from the outside, and it has a simple stripey quality. When I'm sitting at my desk, I can see up and inside the shade, and read the little notes.

It's not an amazing project, and it doesn't really make a big impact, but I'm really happy with it. I'd like to write secret little notes on the inside of ALL my lamp shades.

What do you think? Would you try it?

Hey dudes... guess what!?

We're getting close to Apartment Therapy day! Apparently, my house tour is set to be posted next week. (Woo woo!)

In the meantime, I have one sneak peek photo to show you, taken by the lovely Abby Cook (who shot our place for the feature). AND, it's a great picture to share because it really highlights one of my recent projects: bright door edging.

I was inspired to paint the edge of every door in our apartment after I saw the September 2001 issue of Martha Stewart Living. The mag featured this project among other easy ways to jazz up your doors and it seemed so simple, I couldn't wait to try it.

I did a different, complimentary or contrasting colour on every door. The guest room (shown above) has green accents, so I chose a bright acid green edge for that room. Our bathroom is dark chocolate brown, and I used a hot pink in there. In our dark blue bedroom, the door edge is now pumpkin orange, and in the dining room, it's teal.

You could use any acrylic paint for this project, and I would recommend you apply it with a plain old artist paint brush. Don't bother taping. The door itself will guide you, and if you slip up, just wipe away your mistake with a wet rag. Acrylic is very easy to work with.

In order to get a REALLY bright look, I went with some of the new colours/paints from the Mantegna line, purchased at Woolfit's in Toronto. (Any art store will have good paints. I went to Woolfit's because it's around the corner from my office.) You only need a little tube of any one colour to do each door, and you'll have paint left over.

_See the "Luminous Green" shown on the right of the top-most line of colours? That's what you see in the first picture above.

This is an EXTREMELY fast and easy project. I highly recommend you try it. When your doors are closed, you won't notice the change at all, but when they're open, you get that pop of colour and it's fun and happy. Think about it.

If you know me, you know I love homes that look lived in. I love homes that invite one to flop (on a sofa, into a chair, on the floor, etc.). Homes that are cluttered, imperfect, and real (although, to be fair, "perfect" homes can be real too... just not for me. I'm too messy.)

Back in 2010, I did a post entitled Imperfection is Beauty: Christmas in the real world. And today, I'm doing something similar. Only this time, instead of featuring holiday-ready homes, I've gathered a small collection of living room shots from Flickr (all credited and with creative commons licenses in place).

These are living rooms I believe in. I can imaging flopping down in each and every one of them.

Can't you?

__By TomBorowski on Flickr.

Flickr has changed a lot since I started using it back in 2005. And now, with Pinterest and whatnot, it's a lot less popular than it used to be (even though it does different stuff), but I still love it. I feel like Flickr still gives me access to all sort of fun images I wouldn't see otherwise -- in particular, the real-deal stuff that hasn't been all the way around the web and back already.

Besides the obvious homeyness, the thing I like about the pictures above is that I hadn't seen them before. And I doubt you had either.

Anyhoo. Keep on being real, my decorating friends.

I spent a lot of the recent holiday watching television.

Shameful? Maybe. Fun? Indeed!

I am a TV junkie. Nate is more picky. Together, we burned through season one of The West Wing (a great show, all around), and then alone, I watched some less-laudable stuff, like The Mentalist marathon on Bravo (bad Jenny) and a few episodes of the ridiculous, but strangely amusing, Rosanne's Nuts.

Sometimes, I'll watch a show just for the set. If a good set designer worked the background, I can enjoy even the worst canned ham telly. I'm weird like that.

Anyway, in honour of good set dressing, today I shall share with you a collection of images featuring the sets I've loved (regardless of the quality of the shows themselves, on which I will not comment further.)

The Mentalist: Jane's sofa area. So comfy looking. And I love that throw. If I lived in a loft, I'd copy this look.

White Collar: Neal's apartment. I love everything about this place. EVERYTHING. Set designer Sheila Bock can come do up my house anytime.

Will & Grace: The main set of this show is an oldie, but a goodie, designed by Melinda Ritz. Apparently, it's still on display at Emerson College in Boston.

Brothers & Sisters: I thought this show was a real stinker, but man-oh-man did they have some beautiful sets. This is the Walker family living room, designed by set decorator Bryan Venegas.

Sex & The City: While the second-wave feminist BS of the show now makes me cringe (it feels so dated) I still love Carrie's old apartment (before the horrible makeover they did in the movie).

_Anyway. That's enough of that.

Lots of fun stuff to come now that it's 2012. I have a whole bunch of posts in the hopper, and my house tour with Apartment Therapy should be posted later this month as well. Excitement!

P.S. Some of these set pictures were hard to find, and I don't have the names of the photographers. I've linked to the source sites where I found them. If anyone wants to send me more info so I can credit more correctly, I'd appreciate it.

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!

Okay. I know I've dawdled on this, but it's finally time to reveal my new(ish) dark bedroom. If you remember, I was hesitant to go dark at first, but it's now been several weeks since I completed the painting and I have to say... I love it.

Special thanks to everyone who encouraged me to go for it, especially Amy at ABCD Designs.

I know you want to see it, but let's not dive right in. Let's start with my inspiration: the peacock feather. I woke up one morning thinking of peacock feathers and that's where this whole thing started. At first, I wanted to paint the room green. But that seemed impractical, or less livable, so I decided on a deep blue, like the very centre of the feather's eye.

I chose Behr's "Night Shade" #740F-7. On the chip, it looks near-black, but on the walls, it's a lovely, deep blue with a forest green undertone. It looks different in different lights and at different hours of the day, so I feel like it's a living colour. Like it can breathe.

My walls are textured - very old and bumpy plaster - so I chose matte/flat 'paint+primer in one' for coverage that would hide imperfections.

Here's the before shot. (We lived with the room this way for about two years.)

When I committed to this makeover, the first thing I did was reorient the furniture. I moved the bed from the back wall to under the window. Now, when you walk into the room, you see the bed on your left and a straight path to the back wall on your right. Here is the reoriented furniture, before I started laying on the new paint:

Next, I got painting.

Working with a dark colour is emotionally daunting because initially, it looks like... crap. I was terrified after my first (patchy) pass, but after three solid coats, I felt a lot better. Next, I had to consider If I would paint the doors and trim.

I decided to paint everything (except the ceiling) because I wanted the finished room to feel calm. The dark colour made the white doors, baseboards and moldings pop, but I didn't want pop. Pop was the opposite of what I wanted. So on went the paint. (I even painted the light switch  and electrical plates.) The result is a completely uniform envelope. Very serene.

So... are you ready for the reveal? I'm not much of a photographer (as you know) so it was hard to get a shot that does the room justice, but here goes. This is a shot from the doorway:

Next, take a look at the view looking straight in from the hall (which you can compare with the similar before shot, above). You can see the painted doors and frames on the right. Don't mind the cables. Still haven't sorted those out. You can also see the way the sunlight on the wall makes the paint look brighter.

I love how the dark walls make everything feel special. Every piece of art, every object, stands out like a bright spot in a dark sea.

Next, take a look at our bedside tables. They are symmetrical, but not perfectly symmetrical. The paintings are from the late 1970s, and were originally sold by a local artist at the Canadian National Exhibition. The blue velvet drapes are from Value Village. The lamp is IKEA. The birds are a DIY makeover project I posted about recently, and the brass plant pots were inherited from my grandparents.

On Nate's side, you can see one of my Budai figures (Goodwill), a vintage marble elephant (probably a former book-end), a bit of my midcentury orange floor lamp ($5 at a UofT prof's estate sale) and Nate's weird little nose thingy that holds his glasses.

The back wall, which used to house the bed, now features my clothes-storage wardrobes.

On the smaller wardrobe, I've displayed my collection of hand-thrown pottery and unusual vessels. (Plus weird bits and bobs like ceramic birds and marble eggs.)

I've included hits of green (in the throw at the foot of the bed, for example, shown below), and in the plants, as well as some teal notes (in the Birk's boxes on top of the wardrobes) to stay with the peacock theme. As for the orange and rusty accents... that's just what I had on hand.

The best part is that both Nate and I are sleeping better. A cozy bedroom is good for that.

Anyway, there you have it. I went to the dark place and it welcomed me with open arms. The rest of our apartment (with the exception of our tiny bathroom, which I made over in chocolate) is near-white. And this is cliched, but the bedroom now feels, in contrast, like a little jewel. It's currently my favourite place in the house.

So if you're considering going dark, I say: do it. Be bold. It's so worth it.