One of the toughest assignments I give myself as an interior stylist is finding large art that doesn’t suck. If you google “oversized art”, you’ll know my plight. It’s a lot of hotel art and badly pixelized digital prints. And what do you consider large art? I would say anything over 55” on the longer side. Anything huge is simply a matter of luck and a 4AM trip to the flea market. And even then, the likelihood of finding something in pristine condition is low, so be prepared for dings and scrapes.
The other design dilemma is the affordability. If I have over $6K to spend, I’m in business. But often, my budgets are a total of $15K for one room, which includes sofas, chairs, rugs, paint, wallpaper, etc. I can’t spend half the budget on a singular piece of art and leave the rest of the room blank!
So what is a budding interior stylist to do? Well, I get my search engines ready and my filters primed. I’m always on the hunt and here’s what I’ve found lately… my suggestion for you is that if you need large art now, purchase these right away because I have no idea how long they will last.
If you’re reading this blog and are a fan of my work/home, then you know one thing to be true: I love vintage.
About 85% of everything in my home was either thrifted, bought at a consignment store or found lying on the sidewalk (I used to live in a very interesting neighborhood where they just threw a $400 chair out just because it was “old”). I attend the Rosebowl, Long Beach, PCC and other flea markets practically every weekend and ALWAYS find something (I don’t always buy). I’m of the belief that one can find great vintage and flea markets anywhere, but flea market finds do not always fit your exact needs. How many times have you gone out looking for a decorative tray and came back with giant wooden dragon? I’m raising my hand over here and pointing directly at myself.
You just got the keys to your brand new home — neigh, your brand new life. Even if this isn’t exactly your dream home RIGHT NOW, it represents a new chapter, a new evolution, a new you. This might even be a sad transition… albeit you’ve survived to this point, but you’re going to make the best of this part and rise like a phoenix.
But there is one problem: the blank walls are doing nothing for your je ne sais quoi, to say nothing of the sad entryway and the living room is feeling a little more like a dying room. Sorry. I’m trying to be cute.
A few months ago I posted this:
And I got a whole range of comments. Mostly good, but some of them were a little outraged I would disrespect the real estate gods. Some went so far as to say I was the “real estate agent’s nightmare”.
At first, I was a little flummoxed. The thought of being someone’s nightmare was so NOT ME. I’m a little bit of a people pleaser. I still answer most of my instagram questions, even the really fucking stupid ones, and just try to be as “nice” and as “helpful” as possible. The customer is always right, right?! Wrong.
But then I really examined that sentiment. I am the real estate agent’s nightmare. Why? Because I refuse to live in a white box until I ultimately sell my house for a minor profit to the next buyer? And I live in California. If I buy in the right market at the right time, I could make an even higher profit and why would I risk warding off those future buyers with my characteristically loud designs? And then I won’t have enough money to buy my next white box. And then I won’t be able to retire, because I haven’t bought enough white boxes and made enough profit so I can live in comfort until I end up in that other box (in the ground).
