misosouper, a shopping blog

My mom, a interior designer and antique dealer, has always sworn by Ballard Designs.  Not so much to furnish your whole home–can you imagine a room filled with those godforsaken beskirted tables?–but for accent pieces and furniture that are useful, attractive, and pretty reasonably priced (one of my friends joked that BD was the place to go in Atlanta when you wanted a white couch, which BD sold in 87 different versions).  Then dearly departed Domino Magazine got in on the act, styling some rooms for the BD catalog.  But because I spent a large portion of my early life repudiating anything my mother liked, I never paid attention to poor Ballard Designs.  My loss, because they’re selling some really good stuff.

1.  Porta Luggage Rack–I hate unpacking, but I also hate rifling through a jumbled suitcase on the floor, so this is my perfect solution; 2.  Palm Leaf and Fern Needlepoint Pillows–hand-sewn, for $85; 3.  Marianna Glass Chandelier–Braveheart meets bistro; 4.  Malu Seagrass Square Boxes; 5.  Leather-bound Monogrammed Dictionary–Merriam-Webster in sorbet colors, with your name on it; 6.  Medallion Panel–thick, graphic, cheap; 7.  Horn Mirror–yes, I’m aware of its original provenance, but at this price you can paint it royal blue; 8.  Grovesnor Queen Headboard; 9.  Courbé Storage Ottoman–imagine the possibilities for hide-and-seek; 10.  Burlap Ribbon; 11.  the popular Brady Adjustable Sconce–slide the light and bolt as needed; 12.  Wire Ferris Wheel–just look at it!

Or, if you’re channeling a Bauhaus/Fritz Lang aesthetic and you don’t care about anyone ever getting comfortable in your bed again, you could install this chandelier.  Your choice.  (Although I’d probably err on the side of hanging this in the dining room.)

I love the idea of hanging this starburst pendant lamp over the bed.  What are you going to do in there anyway:  read?

Am I insinuating that the gifts you usually give aren’t meaningful?  (Maybe I am.  I can be like that sometimes.)   Regardless of how much of a jerk I am, these should go out to the ones you love.

Tiny and delicate can also be a grand gesture.

A container for just one thing.  Your love? Your dignity? I’ll let you decide.

You heard the man. Be somebody, all day long.

While Virginia Woolf insists on a room of one’s own, I’d just settle for my very own comfy chair.

Putting your jewelry in this dish will probably scare the robbers away.

I’m not sure what the metaphor is either, but I think I like it.

Perfect for your new assistant. When he finds a better job, ask for it back and give it to your next one.

Felt is so much sexier than leather. What would you rather rub up against in the subway?

Give this to your mother-in-law.  Then smile like you mean it.

For the more cynical among us. (Hey, I say meaningful, not joyful.)

These honesty stamps allow you to apologize or inflame, all without opening your mouth. Isn’t that what got you in trouble in the first place?

A much better teacher gift than caramel corn or an ornament.

A little handmade book of garden birds for your favorite green thumb.

An elegant home for the most modern of necessities.

Puts those Cartier love bracelets to shame.

There’s someone like this in your life, even if it’s your therapist. A route we do not recommend.

Ridiculously romantic: artist Jessica Marie Lertvilai collected love letters and transcribed them in Braille onto the surface of this vase, appropriately entitled “love is blind.”

Is there a more affectionate term of endearment?

These metal flowers come gift-ready in a long white box. Bonus: they’ll never, ever die.

Acrylic is the new gold. Custom made, so get your order in now.

After all these years, there are still some questions left unasked.

And after all these years, they still deserve some secrets.

Send in your doodle, and they’ll stuff it for you.

An anatomically correct silver heart locket. Go Victorian and enclose a lock of hair.

This therapeutic warming mattress cover, with its six separate temperature zones, could save your relationship.

Remember when you used to go to concerts? (Both a question and a statement.)

Limited edition, just like your kid.

Yes, you could just write out twelve ways you made a difference in a plain journal; but if it were that easy, wouldn’t you already have done it?

Make a wish.  Make it count.