Showing posts with label Mid-century modern homes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mid-century modern homes. Show all posts

Tuesday, December 11, 2012

Mid-Century Modern Christmas Decorations—in The Ranchos!



Ah, the holidays. A time for giving thanks, for gift-giving (and getting), for spending time with friends and family and for . . . mid-century-modern Christmas décor! Oh, man. I just love it. Can’t get enough of it, really. Partly because I only get to see it for a few short weeks. But, oh, how it tickles me every time I look at it. And this, our first Christmas in our Cliff May Rancho? It doesn’t get any better than this.

Personally, I like my vintage Christmas decorations to have a nice mix of kitsch and class. Don’t get me wrong. I love that overly cutesy 1950s Christmas vibe. But I try to hold back, lest I end up with a look that’s taking the house on a trip straight to Tackyville, if you get my drift. And I know you do. 

Right now, in terms of Christmas décor, I’ve got a couple of things that I’ve had for awhile, some I’ve just picked up, one family heirloom and one modern piece with vintage appeal. And the pièce de résistance: a vintage aluminum Christmas tree. With a color wheel. But you already guessed that, didn’t you? 

So it’s time, dear readers, for me to introduce you to my collection, of which I am oh, so proud. As my first-ever journalism professor advised, I’m ready to “show, not tell.” Ready? Here goes. 

First, please meet our fabulous Christmas stockings, which we’ve hung by the chimney with care. Since we don’t have a mantle, we figured a swag of old-fashioned garland (from Target) would do. I actually made these babies by hand from vintage kits I scored on eBay over the years. 






 

The kits are from Edna Looney—my favorite of the craft-kit makers back in The Day. I found the “Dad” kit first and spent the next several years searching for the “Mom” kit that matched it. Once those were complete, I thought it only fair that our toy poodles, Sophie and Bailey, should have stockings too, so I looked for appropriate Edna Looney stocking kits for them, found two, and made the stockings up. Great, aren’t they?




 

Beneath the stockings sits a little fella I featured in an earlier post—a beautiful ceramic centerpiece in the shape of a golden ram. (Or is he a sheep?) Anyway, I filled him with vintage red Shiny Brite ornaments. I think he adds a touch of class to the whole arrangement. You?







 Here’s a recent find—a vintage Holt-Howard cookie jar I scored at the Long Beach Salvation Army a few weeks ago for only three smackers! Judging by the look of him and by the label, I’m guessing he’s from the 1960s. He’s supposed to be Santa, I think. Whoever he is, I just love him. And he looks great on our recently completed kitchen island next to the acrylic grapes and Rosenthal-Netter pottery. 







Next to my cookie jar sits two little candle holders in the shape of carolers—one playing a lute and the other with a lyre. No markings on these guys save “Made in Japan” stickers. So cute, no?














Next, I’d like to share something close to my heart—a Danish modern crèche that belonged to my mother. My earliest childhood memories at Christmastime include this piece being displayed in our home. I find it so beautiful—so elegant in its simplicity. I always loved it, so my mother gave it to me when I was in my 20s. I will always cherish it.






I also have a modern crèche—a “Presepe” Italian porcelain nativity scene from A di Alessi, which was designed by Massimo Giacon. 











My fabulous interior stylist, The Divine Victor Underhill, placed this crèche on the Danish modern credenza in our rumpus room next to our wrought-iron clock, which evokes a cathedral. (Genius!) I love this piece. So playful. So modern. It’s still available, if you’d like your own.




 These pretty little papier-mâché angels were a gift from my mother-in-law, Peg. I love their Danish modern look, don’t you? They fit right into our décor. Sadly, the year she gave them to us, our poodles were pups, and one of them decided to chew on one of these angels, so she’s got a few teeth marks. (The angel, not my mother-in-law) She’s still pretty, though, so we continue to proudly display both every year.









Last but not least [[drumroll]] . . . our vintage aluminum Christmas tree! This is our second such tree. The first one . . . well . . . it’s a long story. I’ll tell you about it some time. 
















This tree’s better than the first, though, because it’s one of the rare examples with various-sized branches. Most aluminum trees have branches that are all one size, but the angle of the holes drilled into the center pole changes to give the illusion of an overall cone shape. It’s not a terribly effective illusion, if you ask me.











 Our pretty tree is decorated in vintage ornaments—mostly my favorite Shiny Brite—picked up on eBay and at estate sales. It makes me happy every time I look at it. It’s got a temporary tree skirt from Target underneath it. I’ve had a vintage kit for a tree skirt for years that I need to complete, but I’m intimidated by it and haven’t made it yet. Maybe next year?





Friday, September 7, 2012

And So it Goes . . . and Goes . . . and Goes . . .

Oh, Readers! I’ve neglected you for so long. We’ve moved, you know, from our temporary rental situation and into our Rancho. Finally. That whole moving business has taken me away from the computer for all these weeks, but then . . . there’s more. Because guess what? The house wasn’t ready for us when we got here.
Our contractor was running behind when we arrived August 7, and here it is a full month later and our house still isn’t finished. When we got here, our home was supposed to be complete with the exception of countertops. Um-hmmmmm. Not so much.

View from the rumpus room through the newly opened wall
We had floors and walls and such, of course. We had a toilet, sink and tub in one bathroom. There were some cabinets in the kitchen—slick glossy-gray ones from Ikea—but we dared not fill them, because their contents would only be covered in construction dust. We had a temporary, $40 aluminum sink in the kitchen and, thanks to a slow delivery from the appliance store, the fridge and microwave the previous owner had left behind. And because we didn’t want our belongings to get damaged during the construction melee, we put most of our stuff in storage. Nice. 

Old microwave in the hole where the new one will be

 Since then, most of our appliances have been installed, save the custom-colored microwave I just had to have. (When you land on the page after clicking on the link, click on the first little color swatch in the second row—“Wasabi”—and you’ll see what we’re waiting on backorder for.) Pretty Ikea light fixtures have been installed above the kitchen island. New toilets are in. Sinks and sink-cabinets, again from Ikea, grace the bathrooms. Some furniture has made its way inside.

More painting has taken place since these photos were taken (by our good friend Tom Underhill, a professional photographer)—in fact, the inside is nearly done. We chose to do the majority of the house in a saturated yellow—a color we had Benjamin Moore paint custom-mixed to match a Behr shade we liked (Feather Gold). Accent walls are done in Olive Moss; ceilings, fireplace and trim in Pure White; and the main beam, upright posts and additional horizontal accents in Soot—all from Benjamin Moore. (The Soot treatment was inspired by photos of original Long Beach Ranchos seen on the Huntington Library’s digital library.) Our painter, Steve Smith of Smith Prep 'N' Paint, has done a magnificent job, as usual. We've worked with him, and only him, for many years.

Estate sale headboard with vintage sconces from Etsy.com
As you can see from the photos—if you look past the clutter—Jeff Jeannette, of Jeannette Architects here in Long Beach, did a marvelous job on the design of the kitchen and in opening up the wall between the two large living spaces. We’re very pleased with the result.
 Next week, we hope to see the installation of our CaeserStone countertops, with one section of the island topped in butcher block. We’ve been waiting a long time, so we’re looking forward to it. We also expect to get our furniture and art placed in the next week or two. Of course, we’ll keep you updated—but this time in a more timely fashion.
The rumpus room: TV will mount above the console; pocket door to the left

It's dirty--but get a load of that terrazzo floor!

Pretty little bathroom

Paint swatches of the main and accent color appear at the right


Friday, July 27, 2012

An Expert's Take on Mid-Century Modern: Meet Nate Cole

In my last post, I provided a brief rundown of “dos” and “don’ts” when it comes to renovating a mid-century-modern home—or any home, for that matter. But before you can renovate a super-cool pad, you have to get one. And that’s where a cracker-jack real estate agent comes in.
Nate Cole
To land our Rancho, we worked with Nate Cole at Coldwell Banker here in Long Beach. We met Nate several years ago at an open house at one of his listings in Rolling Hills Estates—the Mitchell residence, designed by Case Study House architect Calvin Straub. Not long after that, we ran into Nate at an open house at one of his Rancho listings. We liked his style. And we liked the fact that he’s based in Long Beach and specializes in mid-century-modern properties. So when we were ready to buy, we knew Nate was our guy.
We thought it might be interesting to get a real estate agent’s perspective on looking for, purchasing, maintaining and just-plain loving a mid-century-modern home. So we sat down with Nate for a chat. Here’s how it went:
RR:    How long have you been a Realtor, Nate Cole?
NC:    Nine years.
RR:    What made you decide to go into real estate sales?
NC:    Architecture. I was always obsessed. Everywhere I went, I went wanting to know what was out there. I also wanted to work for myself, to be self-employed. And it sounded fun!
RR:    You’re a fan of the mid-century-modern aesthetic, no? For how long, and why?
NC:    I was probably turned on to it through mid-century-modern furniture. I think a lot of people are. I started to understand where it all fit in, the context of it. I was in my early 20s. I was always interested in graphic design and interiors. I realized I’d been around it al lot. You start to notice what you’re drawn to. I went from not really paying attention to it to being fully immersed in it.
RR:    Don’t you own a fab mid-century home yourself?
Nate Cole's totally bitchin' house, designed by the great Ed Killingsworth
NC:    I do. It was designed by Ed Killingsworth, a Case Study architect. His [own residence] is in the Virginia Beach Country Club near me and his office is right around the corner from my house. His stamp is all over Long Beach. I was very lucky to have Ed Killingsworth at my house the day I closed escrow, along with the original owner, and a friend there filming it.


RR:    I’m jealous, Nate Cole. When we were looking for our house, you told us about other Long Beach neighborhoods, aside from The Ranchos, where we might find a hidden gem. Refresh my memory.
NC:    Alamitos heights—just in from Belmont heights—that neighborhood is pretty chock full of mid-century. Park Estates is, too, but it has association rules about pitched roofs—all the Neutras and Killingsworths have pitched roofs—not something those architects would normally have done. Los Altos—some of them had architects doing custom homes and others were designing tracts like Eichlers—La Marina Estates, Bixby Knolls, Virginia Country Club. The mix is kinda’ cool there. There are Green & Green, federal style, Spanish, mid-century modern—all right next door to each other.
RR:    What advice would you give clients who are seeking mid-century homes?
NC:    Don’t be stubborn about size. Of course you have set bedroom and bathroom counts you need to have, but a 1,300-square-foot house in The Ranchos can feel more spacious than a 2,000-square-foot house that’s a traditional style.
RR:    What are the pitfalls of owning a mid-century home?
NC:    Maintenance. Upkeep. The beams, to infinity. Beams that stick outside the house like at The Ranchos. There’s a lot of upkeep to keep from having water penetrate them and getting dry rot. Flat roofs. If you’re doing work on homes like these there are design aspects and components involved that mean you have to stand there and watch. You can’t just let the contractor go to work. You have to stand over them and make decisions.
RR:    What’s the upside?
NC:    Endless. It’s a way of life. A way of improved life when you’re in your house and you forget to go outside because you feel like you already are. I love it. You become accustomed to living in a house like that. Then you get into a space that’s bad and when you get back into your house it’s, like, ahhhh. You just love it. It’s always evolving, how you live in it. You notice things even years after you moved there. You see how well a space works. I think it’s hilarious when you hear that modernism is out of fashion. I think it’s silly that people look at interiors and houses that way.
RR:    For someone who’s looking to buy (or sell) a mid-century modern house, what should they look for when shopping for a real estate agent?
NC:    Someone who has experience in dealing with homes like these and who knows how to reach the type of people they need to be presented to. Also how to present them. Now it’s so much about how it’s seen online and how it’s presented. Even the way it’s described and, of course, the way it’s photographed. You want an agent who understands what you want, too, if you’re on the buying side. There are a lot of things—it’s not about what I like, it’s about what that person likes.
RR:    Anything else you’d like to add?
NC:    It still baffles me that there isn’t more of a premium on mid-century-modern houses—that really great architecture isn’t given the same kind of premium as art. You’ll see an auction for an object of art—a painting or sculpture—and it sells for an astronomical price. Then there’s a home that you can live in and it doesn’t command that same kind of premium. It’s a piece of art, a piece of history—a piece of design history—and it should be worth more, I think.