Reading through the NYTimes T magazine yesterday, we found ourselves drooling over the home of Marianne Boesky. Her art gallery in Chelsea is one of our favorites, representing artists like Yoshitomo Narta and Liz Craft. Her new gallery is housed in a modernist building that contains several upper floors for living space. Throughout the home (designed by Deborah Berke) there’s a mix of classic glamour and art world cheekiness. Look at this photo, which shows the doorway from the living room to the dining room. You almost don’t notice Adam Helm’s “4 Untitles Portraits” looming ominiously above the gorgeous sofa. Click here to see more.

As a food editor who scans a new cookbook daily, I’m beginning to develop an intolerance for image-less books. I admit, I’ll still always reach for my copy of Joy of Cooking (despite its lack of photos) when I find myself a bit lost in my kitchen , and there are certainly a list of others that I’ll let slide because of their place in the “cookbook canon” so to speak. But that said, I’m really pretty peeved when I get a seemingly fun new cookbook and then find it’s void of any pictures! I’m so much more inclined to try my hand charting new and unknown recipe territory when I have a picture of the end result to aim for. Recently when trying to pick out a cookbook as a gift, I hemmed and hawed over whether or not to pick a highly praised book by a well-regarded chef that had no photography or, a less hyped, image-heavy one. I eventually went with my gut and bought the book sans photos. I’m happy with my choice as the book seemed to go over well with its receiver, however, had it been filled with gorgeous photos of the food that sounded oh-so-delicious, it would have been no contest. My minutes spent deliberating would have likely been passed drooling over delectable food porn instead. So Shelterrific readers, we’ve talked about our favorites, but what are your thoughts on the picture debate? Should a cookbook have food photography, or is a well-written recipe enough to whet your taste buds? — Erica P.

Here’s an sample project from the new book, Softies: Simple Instructions for 25 Plush Pals by Therese Laskey. It’s a simple pin cushion, and it’s the perfect way for you softie newbies to get started in the craze. All you need is a few scraps of felt, some filler and sewing floss. And for those of you already softie masters, be sure to enter the awards contest at the author’s site, Softie Central.

Click through to the next page for complete instructions, and visit amazon to get a copy of the book! (more…)

When my mother-in-law got me a subscription to Good Housekeeping, I confess I was dubious, maybe even a little insulted. So imagine my surprise when I actually started to notice that the magazine has some great ideas. Case in point, this recent gem on using outdoor faucet handles as cabinet pulls. It so happens that I purchased a lot of faucet handles (Who knew they were called “hose-cock handles!”) on eBay months ago, figuring I’d do something with them eventually. Now I have an idea where they’ll end up when we finally buy that house. Good Housekeeping, I have amended my snobbish ways. — Mary T.

Yesterday, CNN kept running a story about a Baptist university in Texas that has starting offering its students — correction: its FEMALE students — a homemaking concentration. As it says in this Reuters story, the thinking behind these courses is to make the students better wives, and it includes classes in clothing design and financial management (to balance your family’s budget). Naturally, this is stirring some controversy. There’s a smart essay at HuffPo called Jane Smith, MRS: You Mean I Can Finally Earn My Degree in Homemaking? which sums up my intitial reaction. Why go to college to learn how to not enter the work force? But then I started thinking about it in a broader sense… If you put aside that this is an ultra-conservative, religious college that has a decidedly ultra-right wing bent to it, the idea of homemaking courses (perhaps called something else?) is not a bad one. After all, many magazine editors, wedding planners, set decorators, caterers, childcare providers, etc, use “homemaking” skills in their desirable professions every day. I have often thought that basic life skills — changing a tire, hemming trousers, cooking — are not being taught as they used to in schools, and the result is a whole bunch of people (like me) who spend their adult lives figuring out how to take care of the basics. (But, hey, it’s a great fodder for a blog.). What if RISD started offering “homemaking” classes — that were open to BOTH sexes, of course — would that be as controversial? How do you feel about home-ec — and shop classes, for that matter — being taught in high schools? How did you learn the skills you need to make your house a home? I’d love to hear your thoughts on the subject. Please weigh in! — Angela M.

I went back to Kansas City a couple of weeks ago to see The Boy and friends. The whole trip was fantastic and I came home with lots, but one thing that is of interest to my project, that I’ve been meaning to buy for a long, long time. It’s the book Plenty by Alisa Smith and JB Mackinnon, two Canadians who ate locally for one year. Much more local than I, they only ate with a 100-mile radius, as opposed to my 250 miles.

The book is great. It’s engrossing from the first page, and I can identify with a lot of their challenges. Where did the meat and salt go? I’m just about finished with my pasta stuffs, and the salt shaker is in reserve because I have so little left. Sugar is long gone, save for local honey and some Stevia I found hidden in the back of the cupboard from a diet or something long ago.

I found myself taken aback when I co-worker told me that she now feels guilty for throwing things away or taking plastic bags from grocery stores. She said she finds herself asking what I would do. Inspiration is an amazing thing.

Click through to the next page to read the rest of Kim’s post! (more…)

Why, oh why, do I have work during the day? That’s all I could think when I heard that there was a sale of the Sopranos’ stuff in a Queens warehouse. The New York Times covered the event with more than enough detail to make me regret not playing hooky. Shown in this photo, glassware that could have come from Carmela’s china cabinet or perhaps Vesuvio. Though their aesthetic (over the top, new world Mediterranean) is something I have consciously been moving away from my whole Italian-American life, I would have loved to have a trinket from the show. Imagine! Cooking your lasagna in one of Carm’s casserole dishes. Sigh. Click here to see the slideshow and read the full story. — Angela M.

Murderers rarely live in cozy cottages -– they generally leave that to their victims. Case in point, the Kevin Costner thriller Mr Brooks opening Friday. His wealthy businessman with a thrill-kill addiction lives in a Portland multi-million dollar palazzo. It has two wings, which heavy parallels Mr. Brooks’ split personality: pillar of community on one hand, serial killer on the other. A glass-walled two-story entry (a lawyer’s foyer?) joins the two symmetrical parts. The imposing exterior is largely white, with warm wood trim. Ditto the interior, where white walls form a canvas for a study in neutrals so obsessive even the books on the shelves are pale and neatly aligned. In the living room, the adjacent modern sofa chairs of identical styles vary in shade – one white, one taupe – giving the living room texture without introducing color. Instead of color, the interior designers (so totally not DIY) use forests of rich, warm wood (teak?), some stainless steel for masculine shine (in the kitchen, as the banister), and windows everywhere to bring the leafy green inside. To paraphrase a detective in Fracture when asked to describe the style of wife-killer Sir Anthony Hopkins’ glass-walled house: It’s Murderers’ Modern. — Thelma Adams

Thelma Adams is the film critic for Us Weekly, and writes historical fiction. She lives in upstate NY in a cozy cottage of her own.

About a year and half ago, I saw a film at the Sundance Festival called Unfolding Florence: The Many Lives of Florence Broadhurst, a documentary about Australia’s most famous female designer and the mother of modern wallpaper. I had never heard of Florence — or her mysterious murder in 1977 — but I sure recognized the patterns of her designs. Big metallic repeats of exotic birds, swirling flowers and mod patterns. This year, Florence seems to be more popular than ever, with a new book on her work just released that features copies of her famous prints, including a few owned by fashion designers like Marc Jacobs and Stella McCartney. (You can definitely see her influence in this spring’s clothes.) Surfing around the web the other day, I was delighted to find Signature Prints, the Australian company that carries on Florence’s work. You can buy amazing fabrics and classic wallpaper prints (check out the black and white collection). Not ready for that kind of investment? Then why not order a pillow, a bag or even a doorstop in one of her vibrant patterns? You’ll own a little piece of design history. — Angela M.

The best thing about New York magazine’s annual design issue is that it lets us inside a few New Yorker’s homes that we’ve always wanted to visit — but haven’t been able to swing a real-life invitation to yet. This year’s is no exception, as it provides a look inside the Tribeca home of Domino magazine’s editor-in-chief, Deborah Needleman. Bright and airy, the place is lightened with off-white tones and greige. We especially love the lucite coffee table in the middle of the room and the way the hefty books on top of it seem to be floating on air. Also in this issue worth checking out: Will Velcro strips become the new magnets? And… is eighties furniture the new midcentury? (Scary!) Check it all out here at nymag.com.