Chic Storage

It’s 2012. Why the hell don’t we have wireless electricity, yet? It’s been invented. It’s been tested. It exists! It’s being hidden from us for some reason and it pisses me off. I effing hate cords. They are the bane of my existence. I design beautiful rooms and the calming effect is shattered by a stupid cord hanging off the desk or from behind the television. It’s so demode to have cables going every which way. This morning when I walked into my impossibly chic Lounge (I’ll be doing a blog on it very soon, you’ll get a peek in pictures here, though), my perfectionist eye roamed happily, stopping on everything I loved: the plants, the Allison Harvard watercolor, the light I wired myself, my gorgeous desk…then I spotted them:

SWEET BUDDHA, NO! NOT NEXT TO MY RECLAIMED MID-CENTURY MODERN CHAIR! (I’m difficult to live with.) I’ve known for some time that I had a problem, but I didn’t want to deal with it. I couldn’t think of a solution. I thought that I might somehow attach a power strip to the table, but I didn’t think that would be very nice, so I left it alone. Today, though, I could deal no longer, so I tried to sit on the couch. I couldn’t though, because a giant Hermès box was sitting there. First world problems.

A friend of my father’s had given it to me because she knows I enjoy such things. You’ll never guess what I bought today! You probably couldn’t guess in a thousand years. I didn’t even know they existed until this morning. Tattoos by Chanel. I know. I gasped just like you. I didn’t believe it, but they’re real!

I don’t know how I’ll wear them yet, probably like this:

I’ve been curious about tattoos for a while now. I used to know somebody I was rather fond of who was covered in them. It was rather attractive. I wonder if he ever sees these blogs? That’s a weird thought, actually. Dunno why. My sister and I want to get something to do with Paris, because we’re basically Parisian, but I haven’t decided, yet. The Eiffel Tower seems so pedestrian, you know? I thought maybe the emblem of the Métro, but then I said no. I just can’t decide. I know the one tattoo that I will get someday, though, and I’m sure you remember me talking on about my idea for a Karl Lagerfeld tattoo? No? You need to read more. I want Karl to sign my right bicep and then get it inked. I need to work on bulking up my biceps, I don’t want it to stretch hideously when I’m finally physically perfect. Anyway, very much looking forward to the tattoos, they should arrive this week. Expect a photo blog.

So, I looked at the box, then over at the cords, then back to the box, then over again to the cords and inspiration struck: the Hermès box could hide my cords! I wasn’t using the box as anything but a decorative feature, something I’m ashamed of. I think decorative items are, for the most part, wasted space. That’s why I hate lawn art and the majority of the homes I visit. I think that every thing you have on display should serve a secondary purpose. For example, my framed Allison Harvard watercolor doubles as a lamp. The piece of tin ceiling I “borrowed” hides an extension cord. A pile of old encyclopedias holds up my blu-ray player. The Hermès box was doing nothing. I decided to put it to good use.

I don’t know where my father’s friend got it from, but it wasn’t her’s originally. Inside the box, though, is the original receipt from whoever the original owner was. She bought a Birkin bag for…you won’t believe it. I’ll show you.

$30,473. I about bought a house for less than that. I love this woman, whoever she is, wherever she is. I imagine her, incredibly tanned, puffed up with Botox, her hair a perfect white, she’s elderly but not willing to admit it, she wears a pink blazer and struts about with her Birkin bag. I want to be rich like her someday. I’m available, rich people!

The box wasn’t in great shape, I assume it has been on display for a while, so I had to do some repairs to the lid:

I used Gorilla tape. I thought it was going to be amazing, but I’m not impressed. It sticks just like duct tape, no better. Annoyed, I went around the corners and fixed them up. Looks good. Next, I cut a couple of notches out of the bottom of the box for the cords to enter and exit. I thought I had them in the spots I wanted, but I didn’t. I should have put one in the back and one in the front, but I put both exit holes towards the front. Not a huge dilemma, just mildly aesthetically displeasing.

Voila, c’est bien fabuleux. J’adore.

I was very happy with the result and sat down for a refreshing drink of Tŷ Nant water. It’s my absolute favorite. I found a bunch of them at TJ Maxx a few weeks ago and bought their entire stock. Not quite as delicious as the glass bottles that I used to buy, but wonderful. When I’m famous and hosting parties, it’ll be my water of choice. Since it’s become difficult to find, my new go-to water is Acqua Panna. Quite good. I really don’t buy water all that often as it’s retarded. We all have water in our kitchens that is perfectly drinkable. Somehow the marketing people have made water trendy. Silly, gullible people. I refill my bottles at least a thousand times before replacing them. I don’t care. Even when I’m rich, I’ll do this. It’s ridiculous to waste. I read once that it takes three liters of water to produce the plastic for a one liter bottle of water. Horrifying!

I took a step back to take another look at my handy work and really couldn’t be more pleased.

Well, ciao, darlings, I have things to do. I have a sheet of custom stationary with Joan River’s name all over it. We’re about to become very close.

 

 

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