Groovy Home Built from Salvaged Finds | The 1970s Artist Abode of John Holmes

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Home of art director John Holmes, and designed by William Kirsch, is made entirely from salvaged materials and goods: (L-R) Kathleen, Tavia and John relaxing on a second-hand wicker couch in the living room.

Hey now, I know what you’re thinking…it isn’t that John Holmes, ok? This John Holmes is an artist and Art Director probably best known by the masses for his original cover art for the classic novel “Jaws” by Peter Benchley. The guy was an eco-pioneer way ahead of the green curve– using all reclaimed building materials, windows, doors, fittings, furnishings, etc. to build this masterpiece in the San Francisco Bay area. Being a product of the ’70s myself, I can totally vibe on the look of that time– right down to the biased wood slats and overgrown plants. It feels like a living, breathing tapestry. And can’t you just smell the patchouli?

The home would go on to win the Sunset Magazine Home of the Year award, and was (obviously from these pics) featured in LIFE Magazine. Holmes later sold it, and two weeks later it burnt down to the ground. The Holmes family’s following home (also built by Bill Kirsch and made from salvaged materials) is a famous and renowned compound of 3 separate structures set on 44 acres set above Sonoma State University in Penngrove, CA. It went on the market back in 2012, originally listed for 4.35M.

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John Holme San Francisco home

Home of art director John Holmes, designed by William Kirsch, is made entirely from used parts incl. 85 stained glass windows. Here Holmes’ image is reflected in a living room mirror.

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VINTAGE PLAYBOY LANGUAGE OF LEGS | THE STUFF OF MALE SEXUAL DELUSIONS

 

the language of legs

Vintage wisdom from the pages of Playboy magazine, 1969. Reading this, it’s no wonder guys are so messed up. Just look at the sexually-charged propaganda we’ve been feeding ourselves for years. The article is actually hilarious in retrospect, and paints a pretty shallow picture of us guys as simple-minded children with one thing on their mind– getting their sticky little fingers on the prize in a Cracker Jack box. The writing is so ridiculously laced with sexual innuendo that no girl sitting in any position would stand a fighting chance against a horn-dog armed with this article. Gotta love what they call the poor gal that doesn’t cross her legs when seated– the “Philanthropist”, she’s comfortable with herself and everyone else…  Keep reading for more laughs, and legs.

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Grey Gardens | The Beautiful Decay

When I saw these images in the New York Times my mind immediately drew parallels to Dickens’s Great Expectations— from the once-grand mansion in decay to the fascinating & eccentric characters Miss Havisham and Estella– it’s all so eerie in a beautiful, maddening sort of way–

A 1975 documentary captured the eccentric lives of Edith Bouvier Beale, known as Big Edie, and her daughter, Little Edie, in Grey Gardens, the filthy, dilapidated mansion they occupied in East Hampton. 

After Big Edie died in 1979, Little Edie sold the house to Sally Quinn and Benjamin C. Bradlee, who undertook a massive renovation. These photographs, which have never been seen by the public before, were taken by a photographer hired by Ms. Quinn at the time she and her husband purchased the house, in order to capture the extent of the decay.

Thirty-four years after a documentary film introduced the world to Grey Gardens and its eccentric occupants, a new movie on HBO is again casting light on the legend of this East Hampton property. In 1979, when this photo was taken, Sally Quinn, the writer and Washington hostess, and her husband Benjamin Bradlee, former editor of The Washington Post, purchased the property, which had fallen into complete disarray, and set out to restore it to its earlier splendor.

Thirty-four years after a documentary film introduced the world to Grey Gardens and its eccentric occupants, a new movie on HBO is again casting light on the legend of this East Hampton property. In 1979, when this photo was taken, Sally Quinn, the writer and Washington hostess, and her husband Benjamin Bradlee, former editor of The Washington Post, purchased the property, which had fallen into complete disarray, and set out to restore it to its earlier splendor.

 

Ms. Quinn says that when she pressed a key on this piano in the living room, the whole thing collapsed and fell through the floor.

Ms. Quinn says that when she pressed a key on this piano in the living room, the whole thing collapsed and fell through the floor.

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WHITE TEE | BLUE JEANS

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mickey spillane

Classic shot of writer Mickey Spillane in Levi 501 jeans.

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Sometimes it is as simple as that- a white tee and a well-worn pair of jeans.  Mickey Spillane isn’t trying too hard here– but sometimes we do.  Let the jeans do the heavy-lifting.  Keep them classic, but do be selective.  I love a great old pair of Levi 501s with that classic leg twist and a lived-in personalized patina that can only come from wearing them in yourself.  It’s all about making it your own– not buying it off the shelf.  We’ve all probably seen guys ruin this look by over-thinking, over-accessorizing, over-shooting, over-posturing– what have you. White tee, blue jeans, belt optional, classic watch recommended, personality required.

K I S S–  Keep it simple, stupid.  A mantra that still works with just about anything.  Like today– I was over-thinking what I would write.  Well, sometimes it just is what it is, and if you force it– it becomes contrived.  Today I feel like a white T and jeans.  I’m learning to listen everyday and go with the flow a little more.  When you’re obsessed with trying to control everything and everybody– you can leave a trail of brokenness and missed opportunity behind you.

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The Beat Generation of Greenwich Village and Beyond

Beatnik

“Like, man, if you’re beat, where else is there to go but Greenwich Village, Earth? Like, it’s Endsville, man, you dig?”  That’s a fair expression of the way the Beat Generation feels about New York’s Greenwich Village, which has survived assorted Bohemian movements through the years.  Now the Beatnik having his day and his hangouts are the coffee houses–any number of cellar bistros which echo with poetry recited in the Beatnik’s own strange language, often to the accompaniment of jazz.  At places like the Gaslight, which calls itself the Village’s oldest coffee shop, the beats meet to drink espresso coffee, (sometimes ice cream sodas), and hold weighty philosophical discussions of art and life.  Their beards, unkempt hairdos and strange costumes all express their rebellion against convention.  Beatniks consider themselves out of this world, but this new crop of Bohemians has gained national prominence, and even attained the status of a tourist attraction.  Many a visitor to New York would rather see a real-life beatnik than the Statue of Liberty.  –Original caption, circa 1959.                         

 

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