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Pleasure v. Disposability
By Jana Martin/MOLI
My plastic python Devi Kroell hobo, a penny under $35 at Target (no, it no longer has that sweeping accent at the end—Target has so succeeded at appearing a harbinger of design to the masses it's almost succeeded in making its name hip), stinks like a new vinyl kitchen floor. And I really want to love that bag. I want to wield it a discount diva. I want to pull my Target Isaac Mizrahi giant bugshades (fake tortoise to go with fake snake) out of it and make a big grand gesture of putting them on as I step into the sun, and I want to pull out a dollar for a cuppa coffee and have that bag be the flashlight beam of the moment. But it smells. The python texture? Yes. It is well done. Whatever mold they used at the factory—in—China?—they got it right. It looks like two python skins ripped right off the snakes, dyed metallic in some giant, poisonous vat and then stitched together in one quick pass by a woman who gave up her daughters. (And actually the color, called "Anthracite" has a strange eco-disaster ring to it.) But see? The stink of it has put me in that mood of you-get-what-you-pay-for. Can we have a few miracles every once in a retail while?
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Hotel Particulier De Montmarte
Courtesy of The Cool Hunter
The most fabulous example of a hotel combining drama, surprise, luxury and comfort is hiding in the heart of the historical, artistic and night-club haven of Montmartre in Paris. Opened in June 2007, the restored aristocratic mansion The Hotel Particulier de Montmartre has definitely decided to grow up. The two masterminds behind the project are Morgane Rousseau and Frédéric Comtet who with the help of Mathieu Paillard have managed to mix art and comfort brilliantly in their unusual hotel.
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Tom Hanks is not known for horror films, but his 1986 flop, The Money Pit, has a terrifying premise: A seemingly small renovation consumes a couple's life, devouring their reserves of time, money, and sanity with nightmare contractors, intractable plumbing problems, and general calamity-like Boston's Big Dig project in a living room. But as San Francisco residents Lisa Koshkarian and Tom DiFrancesco found in their third-floor addition, it doesn't have to be that way. With a thoughtful architect and good communication they opened up a whole new vista by building upward.
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WestEnders
Courtesy of Dwell Magazine
It is a truth universally acknowledged that an up-and-coming neighborhood in possession of increasingly hip retail and rising rents must be in want of a name. Several have been trotted out for the bustling blocks of Portland, Oregon's southwest quadrant just west of downtown and south of the hip and hopping Pearl District. Given its spate of design and fabric shops, the Fiber Arts District is an option, as is the hackneyed SoBu (south of Burnside). A far less ostentatious moniker, favored by one of the primary drivers of the neighborhood's development, is also in the fray. "I like the West End," says architect Jeff Kovel, founder of Skylab Design Group. "That's what it's been called historically, and I think it's kind of classy."
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