This fall, Linda made the mistake of letting me help her redo the Momcave (the bedroom formerly known as Marjorie’s room) at 80 Hollywood. Full disclosure, I have serious control/bossypants issues, especially when it comes to interior decorating. Before she knew it, I was driving her to showrooms, liaising with decorators, and sending daily links for everything from awning stripe Roman shades to Hollywood Regency fauteuils (that’s a chair . . . . I know, I’m a crazy person).
Anywhowho, my scouring led me to etsy, which I had formerly mistaken as a website for miniature plastic food collectors (a certain Hooch of Haunch led me to this conclusion, thanks a lot Emma Hall). Turns out, etsy is like the biggest, baddest bestest flea market on the world wide webs. Boys, you wanna buy some sweet ass jewelry for your ladyfriend? Etsy. Ladies, wanna buy some sweet ass jewelry for your damn self? Etsy again. Vintage hip flask? Chandelier wall decal? Rustic wood docking station? Etsy etsy etsy.
Seriously, etsy is cool. And I’m cool, so I should know. My recent searches are below to illustrate this point: