Hello world. Meet my new best friend:
He looks good in vests. His name is Eddie Ross. Oh, and I’m evidently the last person in the world to become one hundred percent enamoured of him. I found his blog during a quest for design tips, and have been nothing short of obsessed ever since.
Here is a man who is talented with all things gorgeous. He designs living spaces, flowers, and table settings. He’s been a caterer, a Food Network honcho, and is currently one of Martha Stewart’s right-hand men (only he’s taking a hiatus to be involved with Top Design, a television show in its second season on the Bravo Network). In other words, he’s the kind of guy I always thought I should marry, but it’s a dadgum good thing I didn’t because then I would’ve harbored an inferiority complex all the way to my death bed. (And anyway, I’m glad I ended up with Poor Kyle. Things worked out just as they should have.)
Eddie’s blog showcases delightful snippets of his personal design triumphs, including thrift store and flea market finds (i.e. “treasure hunting”), before-and-after success stories, and how to create professional flower arrangements from home. He proudly declares that it’s not necessary to spend buckets of money to create an elegant style. He even understands the value of white dishes (a personal obsession I am always feeding).
I could look at his before-and-after photos all day long. Especially this set, in which he transformed his kitchen light fixture and effectively changed my life:
Photos from Eddie Ross.
Because this man is actually nice. As in…a kind and decent human. I commented on his blog (after finding it and devouring every post he’d ever written) and even went so far as to ask a design question of my own…
…and he wrote back. Personally. Within the hour.
Let’s recap: A guy who calls Martha “Martha,” and is actually allowed to do so…wrote me an email. With advice. Personalised design advice, just for me and my little house.
So of course I blew it, as I do with all new friends {it’s my lifelong curse}. Being completely starstruck (because I’ve never gotten mail from a famous person before [I would be so pathetic in Hollywood]), I wrote him back. Like an idiot.
And he wrote me back again. A brand new email, with words different from the first!
Yes, I know it was stalker of me to write twice. It’s just that I couldn’t stop the visions of me and Eddie Ross, arm in arm, scouring the streets of New York for deals on the cheap. “Oh, Eddie Ross, you’re such a joker,” I would laugh, smiling at my new best friend who would be coming over to redecorate my brownstone apartment from top to bottom later that evening, and he’d show up with a fresh floral arrangement he’d thrown together just for me.
I know. Pathetic. I won’t be bothering him anymore, because enough is enough and I know it. In fact, as soon as I sent my googly-eyed second email, I regretted bothering him twice. With his fast-paced life in NYC, I’m sure he’s beyond annoyed with me by now.
But he’s my new best friend, and I won’t rest until I get a personalised invite to one of his amazing dinner parties. (Teasing, Eddie Ross. Just teasting.)
Seriously, though…I will proudly link to his blog on my sidebar, and a little piece of me will be besotted with him until the day I die.
Pingback: I’ll Be Eliza Doolittle; You Be Henry Higgins. | Archives of Our Lives