TD here.

As our odyssey enters its 16th month, you’ve probably come to realize there were/are a number of original Via Corona design elements that just leave you scratching your head.  Today we review what was perhaps the head-scratchiest of all — the master bath.

As you can see from the photo below, the master bath had all the Via Corona design “features” you’ve come to love:

• Old fashioned anteroom with make-up junction or whatever you call it. Check!
• Undersized doorway that was both short and narrow.  You betcha!
• 3-foot high bathroom vanity.  Bingo!

And technically, this was one of the updated features of the house.

Beyond the anteroom stood a phone booth-sized shower featuring water pressure best described as spittle-strength.  The photo below actually makes it look bigger than it was.   For reasons I can’t recall and you don’t care about, I did use the shower once.

Now I’m not the world’s most physical galoot, but every time I spun around something landed on my foot (Now you’re singing Lola in your head aren’t ya?  You’re welcome).   Shower head  . . . boom!  Shower caddy . . . boom!  Secondary hand shower nozzle thingy . . . boom!  Soap dish  . . . boom!  Suction cup activated shower assist railing . . . boom!  I fell to the floor.  I got down on my knees.  I could go on, but why?

True to form, the master bath also had the standard tile exoskeleton built to withstand a plutonium bomb detonation.  Look closely at the picture below.  There’s tile on the ceiling.

The real showstopper though was the strategically positioned window a mere inches away from the ol’ thunder box, giving new meaning to the terms street view and curb appeal. [SF actually, I think it’s the other way around.  I’m pretty sure the window has always been there and in remodeling, the former owners relocated the potty so that it had a view.].

As I recall, there were several discussions about the new-improved configuration of the room, most centering around what you could and couldn’t see from the window. In fact, there is a whole post on this: master bath plans. Beyond that there were precious few design imperatives.  I mean, we knew we wanted dual sinks in anticipation of some mythical time when we’ll brush our teeth standing side-by-side.  Presumably this occurs right before we head out to a magical unicorn rodeo or a soccer match. [SF: those double sinks are for resale only.  We’re never, ever, ever going to share a bathroom again. And another thing–there was plenty of design imperative–this is your bathroom, you were tasked with choosing the finishes.  So basically, the design imperative for this bathroom was all in your mouth.]

All I really wanted in the master was a cool shower, because a.) after years of showering in sarcophagus-like structures throughout the South Bay, I dreamt of spinning around like Mary Tyler Moore without knocking crap off the wall (in this scenario I’m MTM–go feminism.) and secondly, because it’s important to overthink a room you spend about 20 minutes in daily.  In the fullness of time, we (and by ‘we’ I mean Shannon) arrived at the design configuration below.

Now you’re probably looking at the size of the shower and thinking, really dude? Overcompensate much?  Yes, it’s gigantic.  Truly larger than it needs to be, but when the world gives you bathroom windows . . . well, you get to spin around like Mary Tyler Moore.  Just not in front of the window.  Don’t be gross. We leave that up to the one of the old guys who lives down the street.

Fun Fact:  There’s a bench in the shower for times when I spin around too quickly and get dizzy.

Behold!  A transformation! (Use the slider for extra enjoyment)

[image-comparator left=”http://www.tmhostess.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/07/DSC_0343.jpg” right=”http://www.tmhostess.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/07/DSC_0622-2.jpg” width=”100%” classes=”hover”][/image-comparator]

Fun Fact:  SF takes, edits and lays out the photos for the blog posts before I write stuff.  It’s kind of fun to guess what I’m supposed to say based on the particular photos she chooses.  Like everything else about our marriage, I wing it 100% of the time and assume I’m right 99.44% of the time.  So basically, the rest of this post is me Mad-Libbing the photos she put in here.

Oh, I guess there was one other thing I wanted, the basketweave tile on the floor. I have no idea why.  Speaking of, why are people on home improvement shows so enamored of the houses they grew up in?  “I grew up in a geodesic dome and so we’re looking for something just like it, so I can re-live my pre-teen years every day!”  I recall all the houses I grew up in very fondly, but I think it was because of the people inside of them and not the physical edifice itself.  I could be wrong, but I doubt it.

Fun Fact:  If you want to get really good at remembering lists of things, visualize the items on the list being in various places in your home [SF: WTF?].

There’s also a sh*t ton of marble-like tile in the bathroom.  Shannon says it makes the room feel “cold” and “old ladyish” which is apparently just a misspelling of “badass”.

This is a photo of the orchid that has long since slipped this mortal coil.  Or maybe the shower knobs.  Unfortunately, you can’t turn on both the overhead shower and the handheld thingy at the same time.

Fun Fact: When trained professionals installed the hardiplank siding, two of the nails came through the tile on the insert where we now keep soap and shampoo and stuff.  They have since been removed, but it’s a shame stupidity isn’t also painful.

LOOK!  The aforementioned dual sinks.  The next owners will love these!

If you look down here you’ll see the tile outside of the shower is kind of a slate gray.  If you ever come to visit you won’t see this tile because it’s been replaced with an exact replica.  In the first go-’round the tile pictured here selectively lifted itself from the subfloor because it was installed by trained professionals using the industry-standard combination of chewing gum and Elmer’s Glue.

The mirror is a shape I like to call “modified round”.  The lights are kind of old school.  Something I’d guess you’d find in Niccolo Tesla’s lab.

Fun Fact:  The slope of the stairwell is covered up by the storage cabinet in the photo below which makes the countertop uncomfortably high.

The live edge shelves are a nice touch, too.  They say, “a woman with taste lives here and never uses this room.”   These shelves currently house baseball caps mostly because that’s where you keep headwear. In the john. On a live edge shelf.  (Shannon won’t let me display them on the dresser in the master bedroom where I think they belong).

Fun Fact:  I once had an Eric Dickerson poster on my bathroom wall  . . . when I was an adult.  I’m so fancy! [SF: I have to jump in here.  I kid you not, when we first started dating, he also had a 36″ framed poster of Tony Gwynn titled “Bat Man” directly across from the toilet.  It was situated so that when you (or more specifically, I) sat down, eye level was just about even with Tony’s personal bat and balls.]

So there you have it.  One master bath fit for a king.  And if you were a ghost like Patrick Swayze (past or present) this is the view you’d have if you were haunting the master bedroom.  Notice no one can see your reflection in the mirrors?  Balu the cat is not even paying attention to you and he loves everyone.  Some ghost you are. [SF–yes he is–he’s looking at you through the mirror.  Duh.]

Fun Fact:  The original design for the bathroom remodel had a pocket door which went overboard pretty quickly because it turns out you can buy a fully loaded Mercedes for what it costs to install just one pocket door.  Pocket doors are awesome though.  They make me feel like I’m the captain of a space ship. Which figures because they cost about the same. [SF:  because when I think of space travel, I definitely think of pocket doors.]

Master Bath Sources

Hand Shower: Grohe Power & Soul

Rain Shower: Grohe Euphoria Cosmopolitan

Shower Trim: Grohe Chrome Atrio

Vanity: Bosconi Contemporary Double Vanity

Faucets and TP holder: Delta Lahara

Mirror: Crate and Barrel Penarth Walnut Oval Wall Mirror

Live-edge Floating Shelves:NapaValleyHardwoods

Sconces: One Forty Three

Shower Bench: Like this: Teak Wood Oversized Shower Bench

Towels:Hotel Collection

TD here.  When The Misanthropic Hostess herself told me I had the incredible honor of writing up Via Corona’s exterior, I really didn’t know what to say about an edifice that was both far from good and not good from far.

That’s when it came to me . . . we’re gonna need a montage!

Enjoy!

Shannon here…do you have any idea how long he’s been waiting to incorporate something from Rocky into a Via Corona post?  Dude just seriously dropped his mic and walked off stage.

Exterior Sources

Siding: Hardiplank Siding

Shutters: ArchitecturalDepot

Door: Superior Moulding

Mailbox: Pottery Barn

House Numbers: Atlas Signs and Plaques

Exterior Lights: Lamps Plus

Excellent Montage Music: Team America World Police Soundtrack

Before

While the foyer probably has a lock on “Most Improved” in the Via Corona superlatives, her powder room is a serious honorable mention (and is a ringer for best personality).  Recall that she started with pink and brown tile–with curtains to match–that ran all the way up the wall to be crowned by a coved ceiling in frothy white frosting.

The craftsmanship in this space was remarkable.  I mean look at it–the former owner laid ALL that tile by hand.  However, we quickly tired of the phone ringing and the voice on the other end telling us that 1985 was, like, oh my god, calling and wanted its loo back.

Little did we know that it was about to get much worse very quickly.

Termites and Southern California go together like peas and carrots.  And let me tell you, this bathroom was serving up a hungry man’s portion.  I think I told you how we were afraid to go in here for fear of falling through the floor.  And yet, we couldn’t stop checking on it to confirm and reconfirm how awful it was.

After

Beast: meet Beauty!

As I explained in the powder room plans post, we gave up about a foot in this space for a little bit more room in the kitchen.  We don’t miss it.  Also, out of sight but never out of mind, we also raised the roof in here.  1985 would be totally pleased.

Going with an exposed sink was a bit of a risk, but with a room that now measures roughly five by five feet, I wanted to leave as much open space as possible.  Besides, it’s a powder room.  Other than a spare roll of toilet paper or two, this space has no need for storage.

We frosted the generous but poorly placed window (it’s the first thing you see when you walk into the courtyard).  While there is potential for some evening shadow-puppet shenanigans, forgoing any window treatments also helped to keep the space open.

The light fixture, hook and TP holder all came from a shop called OneFortyThree.   The proprietor started the company after renovating his own house (and blogging about it).  OneFortyThree was a delightful find and I feel a sense of (completely unwarranted) renovation camaraderie with the owners.

Of all the baubles in this tiny space, finding the right mirror was the hardest.  While incredibly fashionable, that sweet hexagonal mirror that was originally in the powder room just didn’t fit right with the new vibe.  I ordered and returned three or four (and kept yet another one for a different space).  This one came from CB2 and we have two other iterations of it in other parts of the house including the guest bath.  (Note the photo bomber.)

In a move that some future homeowner will most likely describe in the same OMG so outdated way I described the pink and brown tile on the original, I decided to go with black fixtures.  This began when I fell in love with a gamine faucet from Ikea that was nimble and elegant.  Sadly, by the time I got around to ordering it, the faucet was no longer available.  At that point I had my heart set on powder-coat and found this one in our price range at Home Depot.

A digression if I may.  If this project were to have a catch-phrase, it would be: because that’s what we could afford.  The market is rich with gorgeous finishes and fixtures–from bathrooms to kitchens to lighting–most of which weren’t even close to being in our budget.  While Pinterest, Instagram, Google and the others offer a vast universe of design opportunity, they don’t account for price point.  Just about every finishing material in Via Corona was inspired by one thing but executed as something like it that was in our budget.  Welcome to the real world.

As you probably don’t recall, I’d originally planned encaustic cement tile for the powder.  I spent weeks looking for just the right pattern (that we could afford).  I put (paper) samples up on the wall in my office and asked for the opinion of anyone who entered.  It became a minor obsession.  But after all that searching, I couldn’t pull the trigger. I actually had the tiles in my cart, finger hovering above the order button and then I clicked away.

The design universe works in mysterious ways and the moment I gave in and admitted I didn’t have the cojones for bold tile, I chanced across this wallpaper design by Abigail Edwards.  It’s a subtle nod to our (hopefully) subtle beachy vibe for Via Corona.  It’s also a nod to Edward Gorey, a longtime favorite of mine.  Not wanting to go so far with the sea-theme as to actually make people seasick, we stuck with the pattern on one wall only.

There she is folks, though she be small, she be mighty. And, at least in my estimation, she has a great personality!    I purposely keep the door open so that I can take a glimpse every time I walk by.

And it’s true about what he said in the Entryway Reveal post:  TD isn’t allowed to use the sink in here.  For the record, I’m not either.  The wallpaper–though perfect for the spot aesthetically–is actual untreated paper.  While the occasional splash from hand washing is fine, everyday wear and tear would probably make quick work of this delicate covering.  It breaks my rule of not having anything in the house too precious to be used BUT I’m pretty sure it’s the only thing that does.

And now for the montage you’ve all been waiting for.

Go here for more Via Corona: Via Corona

Powder Room Sources

Wallpaper: Abigail Edwards Seascape in Winter

Vanity Console: Duravit

Sink: Duravit

Faucet: Vigo Satro

Mirror: CB2 Infinity Round Brass Wall Mirror

Vanity Lights: OneFortyThree

Towel Hook: OneFortyThree Woodblock Wall Hook

TP Hook: OneFortyThree Tissue Roll Holder

Basket: Target

TD here.  If I were Santiago, the haggard Cuban Fisherman in The Old Man and the Sea, Via Corona’s entryway would be my giant marlin (only with a much happier, less Hemingwayesque ending).

It’s said you never get a second chance to make a first impression.  While this may be true in job interviews, dating or armed robbery, it thankfully does not apply to the reveal of Via Corona’s least appealing original feature — the entryway.

Walk this way . . .

Call it an entryway, a foyer, an anteroom or even a narthex, there was no doubt it was a problem.  A big one.  Or should I say a short one?  When we purchased Via Corona, the entryway ceiling stood a claustrophobia-inducing 6 feet 11 inches high.  Likely not a concern for the previous owner since he stood all of 5’3″, but when you’re 6’2″ it feels like the sky is falling.  If you don’t believe me, hold a personal-sized pizza box vertically over your head and imagine that’s where the ceiling is.  I’ll wait.

True fact:  No one is sure who is actually responsible for the “never get a second chance” line.  Some attribute the quote to Oscar Wilde.  Others trace its use to a Botany Suits ad from 1966 (the same year Via Corona was built).  The majority claim Will Rogers turned the phrase.  Rogers also reportedly said, “I never met a man I didn’t like” thus proving he never met the previous owner of the house.

The ceiling wasn’t the only problem with the foyer, just the most glaring.  Honorable mentions go to the “Liberace’s pool house” double front doors and the creepy staircase complete with “end of life” carpeting and railings nearly a foot lower than the modern code.

Then there was our lady with the urn.

Earning the title of Worst Original Feature in a place like Via Corona is a bit like being the Cleveland Browns starting QB, World’s Greatest Mime or the biggest hit by Nickelback.  You’re the best of a bad lot.  A distinction without a difference.  So even before we chiseled rocks off the side of the house or destroyed the mantel, I dreamed of bashing this atrocity to smithereens.

With all due respect to Heaven, Via Corona is the place where dreams come true.

I felt like the end result was about a 100% improvement as-is.  Fortunately Shannon assured me we could rebuild him.  Make him better than he was.  Better.  Stronger.  Faster.

The first move was to raise the ceiling to a normal height and install LED lights.   Here you can see how much difference a foot can make.  We couldn’t raise the ceiling in front of the powder/ stairs for structural reasons–but this was the height of the entire ceiling when we started out.  Sadly, doing this went a long way in destroying the haunted house vibe the previous owners had cultivated so spectacularly.  Everything is a compromise.

We also installed a single front door with operable, screened sidelights.  [SF here] Via Corona sits on a corner with the front door facing South. Due to this and some other weather and location related stuff we don’t understand, the breeze runs South-to-North.  By adding the sidelights we created an air flow straight through the house that should make up for the fact that we don’t have AC.  We hope.

We ran hardwood down the stairs and had iron railings made to bring everything up to code for this century.

The coat closet to the left is now a quite inviting home for our in-house wine storage (not to be confused with Garage Wine).  While we don’t have photographic evidence, the before looked like Jame Gumb’s basement in Silence of the Lambs.  Go ahead and look that up if you need to.

See that air vent at the end of the hall?  It was at ceiling height before.  After we raised the roof, it wasn’t.  So we had it moved-up at a cost equal to a year’s supply of foot long subs (this is where the builders get you–all the little bits and pieces here and there).  We also installed a wireless doorbell that plays 50 different songs — each  more annoying than the last!  I thought it would be funny to have “Memory” from Cats be our doorbell song.  It’s not.  Not even a little bit.

What of the space formerly ruled by Lady with Urn you ask?  In the fullness of time she’ll be replaced by a mirror.  Something about reflecting ambient light or words to that effect.  I honestly wasn’t paying attention but I’m sure it’ll be great.

Finally, at long last, the makeover montage. . . Flip or Flop-style (minus the high-profile divorce and tabloid headlines, of course).

Stay tuned.  In a couple of weeks we’ll reveal the smallest room in the house with the greatest number of fixtures I’m not allowed to use . . . the Powder Room!

Can’t wait, want more?  Go here: Via Corona

Sources

Rug: Rejuvination (they frequently have 20% off sales)

Door levers: Kwikset Halifax Square Lever

Interior Doors: Winslow Three Panel

Front Door: Plastpro Smooth Skin Craftsman

 

And by Champagne Room, we all I know I mean the kitchen.

Before

Let’s go back to where we started with the kitchen.  It really wasn’t bad.  It even came with double ovens.  In the original plan, the kitchen was actually slated for phase two.  But, then we lost our minds and decided to throw the old range out with the bathtub (and the toilets) and just start from scratch.

By way of review, here were the main objectives of the kitchen renovation:

• Pull the range off of the peninsula to free-up counter space
• Maximize work space
• Maximize storage
• Keep double ovens
• Replace appliances

As I mentioned in the plans post, we didn’t have a lot of freedom to enlarge the space.  Well, we could have but it would have meant losing one of those gorgeous picture windows.  That was not going to happen and so other than adding about five linear feet so that we could sink the fridge into the wall, we stuck with the 12 X 12 space.  Crappy iPhone shot but the amount of tile they pulled up was impressive!

Given that the house is now about 2200 square feet, the size of the kitchen is probably about right.

If you want to see a recap of the demo and rebuild up to cabinet install, go here: Via Corona kitchen progress.

Let us also revisit the Via Corona kitchen mood board (by the way, mood board is a seriously douchey term).  Whether kitchen, office or sartorial, I like my work space to be functionally efficient and uncluttered.  To keep things interesting, on the permanent fixtures I worked with lots of texture rather than color.  This is pretty much my M.O.: keep it neutral and rotate in the color with details that are easy to replace when I need something fresh (I know, now whose being douchey?)

After

From a different angle.  While we couldn’t expand the kitchen much, losing the dropped soffett made things a little less vertically challenging.

A note on the kitchen rug (you can barely see it in each of the pictures above).  Part of the reason I chose our hardwood floors was because their light color and oil finish mean they’re less apt to show dirt as well as wear and tear.  However, regular wear and tear and misanthropic hostess kitchen wear and tear mean two different things in our household (I am the messiest neat freak I’ve ever met).  In theory I love the trend of an antiqued Turkish wool rug in the kitchen.  In practice it would have been rugicide in Via Corona.  I did some research on the best rugs for kitchens and all roads seem to lead to cotton flat weave.  The reason is easy: you can throw it in the washing machine.  This one has already made the trip.  Twice.

All of the small appliances save the coffee and espresso machines are stored in the butler’s pantry/ laundry.  However, all of our every-day use tools–which includes no fewer than 12 sets of varying types beverage vessels (we are thirsty people) easily fit into the kitchen storage. Score!

In addition to limiting expansion opportunities, the windows also added constraints to the peninsula depth.  In my head, this was  going to be a 60 incher (so many jokes here).  Alas, the builders wouldn’t allow us to cantilever the counter top out over the window (even when I made liberal use of the term corbel).  In the end we ended up with about 32 inches.  Not too shabby but also a little more conservative than I wanted.  Don’t tell TD but I do have plans to deepen this baby down the road.  I’m confident that there is a duplicitous contractor out there who will do my deep counter dirty work.

I spent a lot of time designing the kitchen thinking that once we worked with the professionals they’d nicely explain that most of it couldn’t be done.  Turns out the only thing the builders wouldn’t go for was the deeper peninsula.  This means that the entire kitchen was custom designed by me.  Kind of cool.  Or a total disaster.

By moving the fridge from the West wall to the South, we were able to relocate the cooktop off the peninsula and install a serious bad ass hood.  Upon installation, we immediately put the ventilation system to the bacon test.  No trace when we cranked her up to high and let her rip.

Cook top close-up.

The food pantry was the one spot where we lost storage space.  Once the builders got into the wall, we lost about six inches of cabinet width going from an 18″ to a 12″ cabinet.  While small, pull-outs help us to fully maximize the space.  All baking ingredients are stored in the deep cabinets above the fridge.

The view looking out from the kitchen.  The actual view also includes the fireplace and the dining room to the right but once again, my limited photographic skills sell the space short.

More details?

I knew I wanted a semi-commercial faucet and giant, deep stainless sink.  Imagine my surprise when I went to order the faucet and the company wouldn’t ship it to California because of water regulations.  While I totally love the one we went with (source info below), it wasn’t until it was installed that I realized I might have gotten a little overzealous on height.  Let’s just say this faucet is always ready to party but doesn’t take itself too seriously.

I built drawer and cabinet organization into the budget to help keep things tidy. Exhibit A: the spice drawer.  So, like when I go to cook something this happens:

I open the drawer and it (the drawer) says, “tell me what you want what you really really want.”

And then I say something like, “paprika!”

And there it is.  The paprika.  Right in front of me.

You’re still with me?    Exhibit B: the parchment paper, doilie  and measurement drawer.

Exhibit C: Commonly used baking dishes stored right under the ovens.  Cookie sheets live on the bakers rack stored in the garage and less-used pans and tins are stored in the cabinet above the ovens.  In our last house I had baking pans stored all over the house like some sort of culinary squirrel.  Now not only are they front and center but also much easier to access.

Every day dishes are stored in two large drawers in the peninsula which we use for casual dining.  Plates in one drawer.  Bowls in another.  These drawers are just to the right of the dishwasher making emptying a breeze.  I would know.

Okay, one more.  The knife drawer.  Just looking at the knife drawer makes me calm.

As we all know, I spend a lot of time in the kitchen and so far Via Corona’s has been a delight.  But, what wouldn’t be when you have a sunrise view like this?

Want more house renovating shenanigans?  Go here: Via Corona

Kitchen Sources

Cooktop: Thermador 36" Masterpiece Series Gas Cooktop

Hood: Broad Elite EW58 Wall Mount Chimney Hood

Fridge: Frigidaire Professional French Door Counter-Depth Refrigerator

Dishwasher: KitchenAid

Ovens: Whirlpool 30" Double Electric Oven

Sink: Kraus KHU100-32 Stainless Steel 32" Single Basin

Faucet: Kraus KPF-1602 Chrome Commercial Style Pre-Rinse Kitchen Faucet with Pot Filler

Countertops:  Bianco Venato Extra in MaxFine

Drawer and cabinet pulls and knobs: Lewis Dolan Bar Series

Stools: West Elm