Escape By Design | Home Sweet Home

May 2003 | May 2009 | Nests, cribs, nature, and light could be some of the antidotes to anxiety that we need these days.

Throughout the years, every April at PAPER I used to produce a Design Issue. I loved this issue because I love great design. Inevitably, I would end up talking about the comfort of HOME. Especially during times of trauma, which seemed to become more and more prevalent in the new 21st century. (Same shit, different day)

This week, I dug up two different columns I had written decades ago for my design issues. Both of these remind us once again that not much has changed. The world is still a shitshow and our greatest comfort can still be found at home. (That is, if we are one of the lucky ones who live in a home)

I wrote the first (ESCAPE BY DESIGN) Note from Kim, below, almost 22 years ago in 2003 when we were still recovering from the PTSD of 9/11 and the new insane war in Iraq that George Bush started. This was a new type of war we had never before experienced, because it was the first time a war was recorded and transmitted live on camera. Back then, in technology’s early days, we were all still getting our news from printed newspapers and our evening TV Newscasts. Technology was just beginning to progress at that moment enough so that this became the first war in our lifetime that would be covered LIVE! The big trend in the year 2003 featuring the War in Iraq, was that every news station began embedding their reporters into our troops fighting on the ground. Literally—Ted Koppel was reporting from inside a tank in the middle of the desert trying to avoid landmines and SCUD missiles. We were all RIVETED and couldn’t stop watching it happen. It was a car crash and we were in the car. On top of that, we were, at the same time, on “orange alert” at home, waiting anxiously for the other shoe to drop here with another insane terror attack. The news shows really were productions back in those days. The terror alerts with the sickest, scariest sound tracks and crazy graphics were de rigeur every day. NEWS BECAME DRAMA. And in real time. War became the new reality show for us.

In contrast, I’m also giving you a peek at another column I wrote (HOME SWEET HOME) six years later for my 2009 Design issue. This was the moment in time we were pinching ourselves as Barack and Michelle Obama showed America a new image, turning the White House into a real home filled with joy, family, and community that looked different from any previous white house. Simply put, it was a white house that was not white. And what a relief that was to see. They brought with them joy, diversity, and progress which included their two young kids, a wonderful grandmother (Mrs. Obama’s mom, Marion Robinson) and a big doodle-y dog named BO. They worked with my friend Thelma Golden (director of the Studio Museum of Harlem) to bring art into their home that represented their world and ate healthy food cooked by their young White House chef, Sam Kass, who also collaborated with Mrs. Obama to plant and tend a big organic garden on site, where they’d grow as much of what they ate as possible. For me this felt like a miracle. Suddenly America was back again. Our fear and paranoia had receded but our home sweet home was still at the top of our list of priorities.

A few weeks ago my brilliant friend Alexandra Cunningham Cameron gave me a tour of the incredible new Cooper Hewitt/Smithsonian Design Triennial she co-curated, called “MAKING HOME”. This show completely blew my mind. I can’t stop blabbing about it to anyone who will listen. It’s literally my favorite show I have seen in any museum in many years. Sometimes I wish I still had PAPER, because if I did I would devote my entire design issue to this show. GO SEE IT. YOU WILL THANK ME (Through August 10, 2025) K.H.

ESCAPE BY DESIGN

(Cover of Jamie King)

May 2003

LATELY, I FEEL AS IF I'VE GONE THROUGH THE LOOKING GLASS. I came home the other night, turned on the TV and found myself flipping back and forth between "Shock and Awe" (CNN's sick war/reality show, which some call the news) and ABC's Are You Hot?, one of the most demented programs I have ever seen. On one hand, CNN kept me riveted with its scary Jaws-style music (lots of percussion and heavy, deep strings to provoke anxiety), ominous terror graphics and macho video-game headers ("Showdown with Iraq,” "Countdown to Showdown with Iraq," "Tightening the Noose," "Terror at Home," "Brink of Terror,” and so on)—not to mention the drama of the live-action, "embedded" war coverage itself. But as soon as I could rip myself away and flip the channel, I became hypnotized watching contestants parading their greased-up, tight, swimsuited bodies in front of loser celeb judges in order to compete for high scores on their physicality and sex appeal. I watched Randolph Duke cruelly tell a girl that her face was okay but that her forehead was too high (he rated her face an 8.5). He then pointed a laser light at the bottom of her butt, which he claimed was a teeny bit jiggly (he gave her body a 7.8). They later showed her crying backstage.

At that, I flipped back to CNN, where a "local terror alert" logo was flashing and nurses from my local St. Vincent's Hospital were showing their new stockpile of poison-gas antidotes. Remember the good old days, when the biggest traumas of New York City life centered around Seinfeld's George finding a parking space, Elaine finding a good apartment and Kramer finding a public bathroom? God love Seinfeld. Now potassium iodide is sold over the counter of the C.O. Bigelow pharmacy on Sixth Avenue. The other day I ran downstairs to buy milk and saw hundreds of police in riot gear lined up three deep in front of my building, poised to keep order at a demonstration in Washington Square Park. Yesterday, I saw my first stretch Hummer on Houston Street. It had five sets of wheels and seemed like it was a city-block long. I mean, has everyone gone insane? What is wrong with everything? I can't imagine how much Xanax is being prescribed in Manhattan these days.

Now that "showtime" (i.e.: the war) has begun, the government (in conjunction with the media) has started applying reality-show tactics to the news, trying to make it better than watching Anna Nicole. As New York Times columnist Thomas L. Friedman said recently, "It's like witnessing a slow-motion car accident, only we're in the car." How sick is it that 500 journalists are reporting from battalions? I swear I heard a newscaster the other night talking about "Ted Koppel's infantry division." It's out of control. I've decided to try my best to watch Seinfeld as much as possible and use it as a mood elevator, since life itself has become a reality show.

Yes, to live with all this craziness, you just have to find a way to escape. There is sex, and there are drugs, whether psychotropic or recreational. But one of the healthier escapes is nesting. Many folks I know have been nesting like crazy—compulsively redecorating, buying fabulous mattresses, lovely down comforters, and fluffy pillows. People are fixing their kitchens. They're sewing and knitting. They're cooking.

Maybe what I want in my fantasy is to come home to a fireplace and a good book. But lately, my mind just can't concentrate on reading novels; something perverse keeps pulling me back to my idiot box. So to comfort myself, I recently decided to renovate my home and make it a perfect haven. I put in a new kitchen where I could cook for my friends who are also anxiety-ridden. In my bedroom, surrounding my tree-trunk bed/nest, I've installed lovely, cushy, orange carpeting; now when I awake from my scary dreams, I can be cozy and cocooned. It's made me feel better, I must admit. Surrounding myself with beauty, art, animals, and friends and family, of course, is a good thing and an antidote to the craziness going on around us. 

I thought it would be appropriate and interesting to explore escapism for this special design issue. To provide an escape, design has to be emotional. I would not be comforted at all if I lived in a mediocre, minimalist interior that was cold and impersonal. Nor would I be comforted by waking up in a stage set of good taste without any human touch. For me, what's comforting at home has to have human fingerprints on it—whether it is nesting with personality and surrounding yourself with things you love, giving it all up by living with nature, or living in an environment that transports you into fantasy. The following pages offer a smorgasbord of escapes by design—nests, cribs, eccentric architecture, nature, light and, finally, branding through art.

Remember, great design can alter everything and do more than change your life and mood; it can also be the great escape. And, boy, do we need it!

HOME SWEET HOME

(Cover of Gael García Bernal)

May 2009

NO MATTER HOW HARD I TRIED TO DREAM UP STORIES FOR MY NUMBER ONE ISSUE OF THE YEAR—my annual Design Issue—I kept on coming back to home. Literally. With all the terrible stuff going on in our country and the world lately, I seem to want to nest more than ever. Call it escapism, but there's nothing I love more these days than to cook a simple, delicious meal and surround myself with my favorite, most inspiring friends for a wonderful night at home. I am lucky enough to have a wonderful home—although small and well-worn—that is filled with comfy places to plop and relax, and that overflows with lots of personal stuff that tells the story of my super-fun life so far: photos and art by people I admire and love, my colorful Dunbar sofa, abstract shaggy pillows hand-hooked by my mom in the Sixties, my organic-shaped Raymor bookends, colorful Dansk enamel kitchenware and the sculptural Noguchi lamps that I grew up with in my parents' home. Think about it—you don't need much else if you have a wonderful home.

The more I spoke to people about this, the more I sensed that I was not alone, and that more and more folks—even the young wild kids—are in love with their homes lately, a confirmation that staying in really is the new going out, as my friend Todd Selby says. Many people tell me they would rather cook than go out to eat, rather watch movies from their comfy couches than in a big theatre, make fabulous cocktails for friends on their terraces or fire escapes than sit in a blingy bar and pay through the nose for bottle service. It is definitely the year of Home Sweet Home. As I thought about tackling this subject, the first thing that came to mind was our beaten down homeland, the U.S. of A. It is sad to see how many progressive thinking people have felt such deep embarrassment, disappointment and disgust about their very own country over the past eight years. And although it is a relief to have intelligence back in the White House, America suffered terrible setbacks during the Bush years. The 2008 presidential election addressed this loud and clear, proving that disenfranchised Americans want change. But America's "brand" remains deeply damaged. We lost the respect of the world, we lost the faith of our citizens and we continue to witness the angry international community wagging their fingers at us for dragging the global economy down the tubes. 

Recently I have also noticed a seismic shift in how people are nesting... filling their homes with much more personal style than actual "design" style. Could this be the design version of comfort food? We loved coming across a few creative pioneers who are addressing the concept of home via the media. We were introduced to a super-fun new magazine, apartamento, that beautifully illustrates this philosophy and is set to publish their third issue this month. We also talked to the wonderful artist-photographer Todd Selby, who over the past year has created portraits of interesting, smart people by shooting their homes and environments for his amazing web site theselby.com.

The silver lining that lurks inside our deeply troubled world today is that we are reassessing what is important on all levels in life. And one's home rates way up there on the list. Not as a showplace, not as a status symbol, not as a museum—but as a haven to share with friends and family, and to enjoy. So make sure that no matter how humble your means are, to try to keep it all in perspective. Remember that style is free and your home is for YOU and no one else. Remember to be thankful that we have homes. Which brings me to the next point—that we should all seriously kick in some dough (or, for those currently unemployed who don't have the cash, kick in some volunteer time!) to help out our neighbors whose homes have been foreclosed on, who are living in shelters, in tent cities, sleeping on the streets or who may be in need of a square meal. Below is a list of some of my favorite advocates for the homeless and foodless. Do it.

NEW YORK

1. Coalition for the Homeless (212) 776-2000

2. City Harvest (646) 412-0600

3. Holy Apostles Soup Kitchen (212) 924-0167

4. The Partnership for the Homeless (212) 645-3444

LOS ANGELES

1. Homeboy Industries (323) 526-1254

2. The Midnight Mission (213) 624-9258

3. Food on Foot (310) 860-0022

4. The Los Angeles Regional Food Bank (323) 234-3030