Living Small

Have I mentioned that I’m into arts and crafts? Oh. I have?

I’ve come across a ration of rad how-tos in the past week. These projects totally ring my bell; how about you? And, if you do do-it-yourself, lemme know.

• Silk screening made easy, via Wardrobe Refashion, via ThreadHeads
• Repeat pattern tutorial, candlesticks and plates–cum-cakestands, and fabric-festooned office supplies, all via Design*Sponge
• Buttoned up hair-tie how-to, via Bluelines
• Non-plastic sandwich wrap how-to, via The Small Object
• Blah magazine holders get a makeover, via two straight lines
• Not quite a how-to, but some great inspiration for a patchwork marmoleum floor, via Apartment Therapy

And, from me, a quick way to display cool cards and other flat memorabilia: binder clips! (Image above.) Simply set the card inside the arms — you can clip the bottom of the card for stability, if necessary — and presto! Instant, easy mini-art display. Rotate your cards when the mood strikes.

Fun Fact: The example above is a Small shot of the aforementioned Parthenon postcard. See the address? See the Greek? Boffo.

What do you get when you cross a tiny house with a bibelot hound? Living Small!

Sure, I try to limit my intake. Souvenirs are just stuff, right? Clutter, correct? Or are they?

As you may have deduced, I revere old things. Storied things, with all their bumps and bruises. A cat-shaped bottle of long-gone Avon perfume that Mommo kept on the bathroom counter (above). A Parthenon postcard from 1954, with a message to Nikolais Dombroussuis of 720 South L Street, Tacoma, Washington, written in Greek. But what’s the use of old things if they aren’t serving a need? What’s the point of a shelf-sitter?

I know, I know: knickknacks are the cush of a home. They’re the jewelry, in a sense — they are the things that make us remember, and the things that can tell us who we are and where we’ve been. It would take a Hannibal-worthy elephant stampede to get me to cast off my Parthenon postcard, even though I have no clue who Nikolais Dombroussuis is. (If you know him, please tell me; that would be so small-world cool.)

But why can’t I imagine a life without a 50-year-old photo of the Parthenon and a message written to someone I’ve never met, and can barely read? Probably the same reason I’m itching to get a brick or two from the recently demo’d cold storage building of the old Rainier Brewery — history. Feeling the age of a thing, imagining the who and the where of it, gives me a thrill. Seriously. Plus, not only are these old items beautiful in their senectitude, they’re beautiful in their Greenery: paying homage to a mannequin head likely bound for the landfill isn’t only about design sense; it’s a good way to add a little timeworn trash to a room without contributing to the cycle of new consumption.

Is this normal? I’d bet. And while I’m no hoarder, I know there are things in my home that feather my nest without furthering my downsize. But what’s the real harm in tchotchke tableaux? A little more dust?

I’ll take it.

Huzzah for Mr. Living Small, who marks the big 2-5 today! In an effort to celebrate this momentous occasion in a Small way, I’ve selected a stuff-free gift — a token that not only communicates my deep esteem and affection for the Duke of Tiny House, but also includes a “Mighty Wurlitzer” and this man:

Happy Birthday, Sweetie: We’re going to the Paramount Theatre’s Douglas Fairbanks Festival, a Monday-night silent movie series accompanied live by Dennis James, organist. For those of you who live in the area, come on down. And, if you miss out on Dougie Fair, the Paramount hosts Silent Movie Mondays throughout the year. At $12 a person, it’s a bit pricey for a flick, but I guarantee this is likely the only time you’ll see these oldies on the big screen. Plus, you’re supporting a local arts organization — Small, in an Augustus Caesar kind of way.

And, in another tribute to that Man of Mine, I submit for your approval this photo of him on his folding Dahon:

Why? Because tomorrow, May 16, is Seattle’s Bike to Work Day! Don’t miss out on this city-wide, cycle-friendly event, which gives bikers the chance to raise awareness of muscle-bound, eco-conscious commuting options, as well as to gather free bike-related stuff at various Commute Stations both around the city and in surrounding areas. Sponsored by the Cascade Bicycle Club, Bike to Work Day is the centerpiece of Bike to Work Month, which invites folks from throughout the Puget Sound region to get out of the car and onto the saddle for the health of their hearts and the planet. Plus, cool prizes are available for those who take part in the month-long Commuter Challenge.

While I regret to say that the Living Smaller herself won’t be participating — the tiny house has room for but one cycle, and a folding one at that — I do encourage those of you with a pair of wheels to get peddlin’!

Good luck, riders. And, once again, Happy Birthday, BK.

It’s a recycling recovery! Whilst depositing the tiny house’s accumulated wine and spirits bottles in our cottage-court recycling bins, I laid hands on these gorgeous jars:

which I’ve since rinsed and repurposed into dazzlingly darling candleholders:

Now, I don’t make a habit of perusing the recycling for castaways — in fact, Mr. Mister typically totes out the glass and garbage — but I may just start eyeing that glass tub.

How about you? Ever dumpster dive?

WHO: Sarah Humphreys, erstwhile Blueprint magazine editor

WHERE: West Village, Big Apple

WHAT: Large-scale mess turned small urban oasis

SIZE: 307 square feet

Cinderella didn’t have it so good.

For those of you who missed the major makeover of editor Sarah Humphreys’ apartment in Blueprint’s March/April issue last year, a re-cap: Humphreys moved into the West Village rental in a flurry upon accepting editorship of Blueprint — the unfortunately now-defunct Martha Stewart mag aimed at the younger set. She soon found that living Small (307 square feet-small, to be exact) taxed her: from off-scale furniture to too-little storage to unsightly kitchen cabinets, the space was a wreck.

Naturally, in swooped a crack team of decorators, all assembled from the Martha Stewart empire. (Lucky.) Their small-space strategy:

• Open up the space with cool colors — warm tones, like the butter yellow Sarah moved in to, create cocoons, not aeries.
• Add uniform, if open, storage. Not only do these awesome, mantle-flanking shelves solve a storage problem, their sameness keeps the eye from zeroing in on the stuff.
• Chuck out bulky sofas and chairs; replace with streamlined and double-duty furnishings — her console/desk, for example, morphs into a dining table for four.
• Hang a fresh white curtain mounted on hospital tracking to hide the icky kitch. Some things, even Martha Stewart can’t transform.

What a difference. Sometimes, all you need to live Small is a plan, a can of paint, and Martha. For more, see the photo tour. If you missed Blueprint altogether, check out its offshoot, the Bluelines blog.

Don’t stop ’til you get enough. Check out Living Small’s Tiny House Logue in the nav bar!

Photo at top: From marthastewart.com.