Summer started and we need to freshen things up around here.  So for the next week we are offering free shipping within Canada and the US on all items listed in Skårtshop's Etsy Shop.  Check it out, click on the link below and when prompted at check out, enter the coupon code "SUNNYDAYS" to take advantage of this special offer.

The Toys You Buy - Are They for You or Your Child?

I can admit it. I’m not ashamed. I am a grown man who likes dollhouses.

Now, I don’t like all dollhouses. I feel that I should point that detail out at the very beginning. Nor do I own any dollhouses. I’m not some eccentric heir in a Robber Baron holed up in my 24 room mansion filled to the gills with antique dollhouses of every variation. There’s not a miniature of the Biltmore Estate in my living room or Victorians gracing the carpet of my parlor (I don’t even have a parlor). But in recent months, while browsing the Internet for all things baby girl related, I have consequently stumbled upon the surprisingly unexpected dollhouse that struck my fancy.

Typically, when I thought of a dollhouse in the past, which admittedly was not often, or frankly ever, I pictured a square boxy Colonial or Saltbox with an open back—two bedrooms, no baths, with maybe a rumpus room, a satellite dish, and an attached garage (but only if you’re lucky; otherwise, you have to park on the street). Not exactly something to excite the adult imagination, in my view at least.

Then I stumbled upon a thing that can only be referred to as being of a decidedly “contemporary” design. As far as architecture goes, “contemporary” is not one of my favorites. But when I came across a dollhouse that looked like it could’ve been designed by Frank Lloyd Wright, it made me want to run out and get one for my daughter, and she’s not exactly dollhouse age. She’s not even doll age. She’s barely diaper cream age, and I am certain that she could care less about the quintessentially American named “Emerson” flat-roofed glass and river stone house at 1:18 scale with L.E.D.s powered by working solar panels, also at 1:18 scale, but fully functional all the same. Which might lead one to the assumption that I actually wanted to run out and get the dollhouse for me.

And, naturally, there are available furniture packages that come with the house, in addition to other miniatures which the interested buyer can find for purchase from multiple “modern” living design retailers, small Eames chairs for example, both the molded plywood one, with cowhide (for the study) and the lounge chair with ottoman, in black (for the den).

Then later, in my online searches, I came across my daughter’s future doll summer house. I’m not entirely certain that these structures were intended to serve as playthings, but instead simply as miniatures for people who collect that sort of object, but apparently they can be used as dollhouses, all the same. They’re converted “sea containers” (clearly for those of the environmentally minded population) that you can picture on a bluff in Montauk overlooking the Atlantic. Nothing too fancy, nothing ostentatious, not a competitive sort of property to put up against the shingle-sided Traditionals with gunite pools and tennis courts, but just a little place to get away from the City on summer weekends.

And somewhere else out there, for my daughter’s “mountain place” in the Adirondacks, there’s got to be a mini Airstream or a mini Prefab with a mini boathouse for her mini mahogany Christ Craft runabout for those late October weekends, a nice little place complete with working wind turbines and a water harvesting system for the miniature greenhouse…

The notion must be entertained, even by this red blooded American male, that dollhouses are no longer just for little girls.

Argyle Nursery Progress - Decoration & Accessories

When I first designed this nursery my vision involved mixing and matching patterns to create an exciting and stimulating environment for baby.  However, now as I piece the elements together in a visualization rendering I am wondering if all the pattern is OVER stimulation.  What do you think?

Pattern vs Plain - Which do you Prefer?

Happy Day After Father's Day

 

Papa and Baby Lion available in custom colors  at Skartshop.com along with the rest of the prints in the Safari Baby Series. If you need it fast, check out the set that is in stock and  READY TO SHIP in our Etsy Shop

4 on Friday: Nursery Monsters

Found on:
1. Flickr - click to see the rest of the murals in this amazing nursery
2. Baby Supermall - L'il Monsters crib bedding by Cocalo
3. The adventures of a New Mama, 716
4. Project Nursery

Look at this blog ...and smile

During this morning's procrastonation  research session, I happened upon this blog post by Beth  at The Modern Home that just made me smile.  So I thought I would share. 

If I was having a girl (but I wanted a boy so I’m stoked this little guy is joining us!), I’d get these super girly lolita pendant lamps.

Except that I wouldn’t get them.

Because they’re $800.

And that’s insane.

But they’re still cute.

So I’d be tempted.

But not really.

Because like I said they’re $800.

And that’s still insane.

But guess what.

I’m having a boy.

So problem solved.

*phew*

The end.

To see the original post click HERE
and check some of the other great posts at The Modern Home

Are Monsters appropriate Nursery Decor?

     What kind of person wants freaks in their bedroom? Who thinks having monsters in the closet is a good idea, particularly in a nursery? Well, I do, for one. Because who can turn away a freak made of plaid and corduroy? Who can evict a monster full of stuffing with a ridiculous look on his face?

     There’s something about an odd-looking misfit with a good button nose that tends to get to certain susceptible persons. And, it would appear, this recent paterfamilias, J.D., is just that sort of person. Not to suggest that I’m a sucker for button noses. I’m not. Even the best button nose can store evil intentions behind it if given the time, the inclination, and, oftentimes, the organization of fellow like-minded button noses to cook up a particularly nasty idea.

     But all the same, I would suggest that most people should offer the occasional button nosed freak a roof over their head every once and a while, even if for only a short time.

     Recently, my most favorite freak is Monsieur Ratos (a rat from the French company Deglingos). Not that my infant daughter could give a damn one way or the other about said Monsieur Ratos, or, for that matter, Monsieur Kitschos (a fox, which we have also recently acquired). To date, she has found her own fingers and the act of napping to be considerably more engrossing than any corduroy covered weirdo in a hounds tooth vest and tweed short pants. But still, I find these strangely designed, semi-piecemeal freaks to be nearly endlessly entertaining.

      Now, I have a confession: initially, I did not “adopt” Monsieur Ratos the rat out of an appreciation for interesting design or a penchant for the eccentric, nor was that pattern-eared abnormality granted access beyond my front door simply out of the goodness of my own heart. No, unfortunately, this was not to be the case. Ratos the rat (a squeaking baby teether) was brought home within the parameters of a very specific ulterior motive. I wanted to annoy my sister-in-law. A noble intention, I am sure many might admit, although perhaps not in quite so public a forum. But alas, many a cooler head exists in the world than that which lies upon the shoulders of this recent paterfamilias. All the same, Monsieur Ratos didn’t make it into my shopping bag on the merits of his originality. I picked the rat for the enjoyment of watching my sister-in-law look in my bassinet, see my baby daughter clutching her beloved toy to her chest (an action she has yet to perfect), and then look at me with an incredulous look, the type of which only my sister-in-law is capable, and then say, with all the scorn and tone one might expect from an Upper East Sider, “You gave your baby a RAT?” Like it was an actual one I’d plucked from the trashcan on the corner. 

  
      But Monsieur Ratos grew on me. His fabric ears and X-marks-the-spot-dead-eye are somehow endearing. Maybe I have a weak spot for the Underdog. 

       Now we have a whole collection of these weirdos. The Fox I mentioned before, a big, a cow with an enormous udder, and a weird looking chicken. There’s a lobster and a hedgehog I want to get, too, but a person can’t just go running around spending all his money on plush toys. 

        So, it would appear that sometimes abject antagonization for members of your family can occasionally culminate positively for the antagonist. And when what you get for all your pains turns out to be a few freaks bedding down with your infant child for the foreseeable future, it seems to be a good ending for all involved.