There was all this empty space. Floors. Walls. The whole shebang. After 11 years in a (very) small Manhattan apartment, I had moved out to an outer borough and was now the proud renter of about 800 square feet of space. (I know, those of you outside the five boroughs are snickering over my idea of "space.")
Then the reading began.
It started with Apartment Therapy, and then a design*sponge grabbed hold, and then Treehugger, and it just kept going from there. I had become obsessed with the ever-expanding world of design blogs. All day long--though I had to take the occasional break to get some work done--I cruised the blogs, eager to see what these design-savvy folks had found. I fell for chairs. I found artists who could fill my wall space on the cheap. I was on the hunt for the perfect end table. Design magazines started to seem so…static. They didn't deliver the goods from morning until night. I wanted a personal design shopper--and now, thanks to the bloggers, I had an army of them.