This writer has unfortunately fallen victim to the airborne plague that has swept the Midwest (also known as the flu or the “I couldn’t have gotten sick when it was twenty below, but now that it’s finally sort of Spring-like out, that’s when my immune system fails?” virus). But we didn’t want to keep all the many wonderful people who wrote in with their favorite Domino memories for our giveaway contest, so this writer is popping in for a second before he returns to his NyQuil haze. While it was extremely difficult to pick the winners, we finally decided upon Hilary Bowers and Julia Walsh, whose entries you can read after the jump. They’ll be receiving copies of Domino: The Book of Decorating from our friends at Simon & Schuster. Congratulations to Julia and Hilary and a big thank you again to all those who wrote in with their memories. We’re sure it’ll make everyone who was on the Domino staff and/or freelance, pleased to know how many people thought so much about their now sorely missed magazine.
I have just bought an apartment with my husband and was going through each and every back issue of Domino which I have been collected since they were first published. There is a small room (actual closet in non-NYC standards) which was converted to a nursery by the previous owner. While flipping the Domino pages, I tore out a page with the wallpaper that resembled a forest from a little known company that I thought would be perfect for the small space. Then on my next viewing, I discovered it was the exact same wallpaper the previous owner had already put up. Christ – there is more than one Domino lover out there.
No one forgets their first time. I was in college when the September 2006 issue of Domino hit the stands. While other readers were drawn to the “For Like Ever” poster in Jesse Randall’s apartment — which is now ubiquitous — I couldn’t take my eyes of the west elm Parsons Desk, which she used as a sofa table. Clean-lined and modern, yet feminine in glossy white, it was — and remains — my Utopian piece of furniture. I’d never felt such a rush. Naturally, I had to have one, and scoured Craigslist for months for a second hand version. At long last, I bought one at a student-friendly price off of a nice lady who’d doubled her furniture during her post-Katrina, escape-from-New-Orleans sojourn.
That was the first taste. Each new issue of Domino fed my growing design addiction, and my fetish began to get out of hand. I found myself studying for exams on the sofas of my local Design Within Reach. I bought a chic piggy bank to save up for a Philippe Starck Louis Ghost Chair. I trolled antique shops on the weekends while my friends were working off their hangovers. Come graduation, I found myself with not only a degree, but an extensive furniture collection and an embarrassing stack of dog-eared shelter magazines.
Fast forward a few months and I found myself applying for a design blogging job, my first “career” job. My cover letter was not unlike the letter I’m writing: a laundry list of stylish furnishings I’d acquired while my peers were buying Papasan chairs, and admission of my Domino-fueled mania for interior design. “You’re hired,” they said.