Everybody got their party hats on? Splendid.

Today’s fete is hosted by Vancouver-based The Cross Interior Design. One look at The Cross ladies and their portfolio and you know, you just know, you’re in good hands. Their work oscillates someplace between high glamour and DIY/flea market-sweet. Lest you find yourself unable to conjure up a mental representation from that winning description, fear not: the portfolio reveals all.

For starters, a kitchen. It’s light filled and features some lovely little vignettes, and while at first it might read: fabulous single girl, the light gray of the subway tiling suggests: she may consider making room for a mister.

As if the turquoise Smeg wasn’t charm enough, try out this polka-dot lined cupboard.

Here, we veer slightly towards the flea market side of things, resulting in a wire cubed unit that’s home to such things as spare mugs and and cookbooks, the occasional succulent and such.

Below is a prime example of the marriage that is akin to The Cross: a rawther fabulous pink and floral settee that suggests some plucky chick found the thing at a pathetic garage sale, scooped it up, and saved it from a life of boredom by way of a custom reupholstery job. I’m just guessing here. Adjacent that can be seen a luxe bedroom suite, white-tufted headboard replete.

For a dose of bam! I’m lady, I do what I want, the Cross ladies transform a bland wall into one clothed in raspberry grasscloth.

In case you were wondering about that glamour-chic, look no farther than this dining space.

I would like to go over there, wearing a really big apron, and scoop it all up into my bosom, before scurrying away with it. I’m not sure how an apron would help, come to think of it, but, you know, go with what works.

Speaking of, this does. That certain style of glass shadow box has been on my shopping list as of late, and this photo only solidifies my need to track them down. Stay tuned for all the glass boxes.

A few more now– a sweet kitchen and bedroom shot.

Followed by some especially classy somethingorothers.

And, the close, a space for the little one:

Whomsoever was born into a room without a gallery wall, geometric lamp, and a leather pouf to call their own and gaze at from the crib, let us pity them (I didn’t).

And in closing, let me kindly remind you that your own cuticles do not qualify as a meal.

Also, like, be good to each other!

Byeee.