Kristy Chambers lives in in New Farm, Australia, a suburb of Brisbane. The apartment overlooks the Brisbane River and is brimming with character, which according to Kristy, means it’s old, cold and in need of painting and the floor is sinking in the middle. It’s so sloped that Kristy says that when she first moved in, she felt like she was living on a boat. But she is one for making the best of things and she’s filled her home with things that make her laugh – like the giant plastic flamingos she bought in Las Vegas or the bright pink cuckoo clock she found at a shop in Melbourne. Kristy’s day job is as a nurse, working in drug and alcohol detox. She’s also a non-fiction writer. Her first book, ‘Get Well Soon! My (Un)Brilliant Career as a Nurse‘ was published in August 2012, and as Kristy explains, “It was a good way for me to make lemons into lemonade. Nursing can be pretty brutal sometimes and writing has always been my favorite thing to do.” Kristy’s website is launching next week. Sign up to be notified when it goes live). Thanks, Kristy! And a big thank you to Joanne Thies for the lovely photographs! -Amy
Image above: The first thing that you are visually assaulted by when you open the door to my apartment is the bright pink cuckoo clock and the 1950s table that I snagged from a vintage store about 15 years ago. Wherever I go, the table goes. Wherever the cuckoo clock goes, my boyfriend does not. He thinks it’s hideous, but I don’t take style advice from a guy who wears vertical stripes.
Image above: My apartment overlooks the Brisbane River and this is the table where I write, eat and daydream while looking out the window. The Michael Jackson Russian dolls on the window ledge I got in Prague. The littlest one of him as a Jackson Five kid is brown, and his skin gets lighter as they go along. It’s like a documentary.
See more of Kristy’s Australian apartment after the jump!
Image above: My kitchen is old and crummy, and for some bizarre reason there is a soap dish by the sink. I bought the plates from the sale section of the Liberty department store in London. They’re portraits of dead royalty.
Image above: Foreground, cuckoo clock of my dreams! Background, kitchen of my nightmares.
Image above: My boyfriend and I agree on one thing- that dog cup is awesome! He bought it for me in Montreal.
Image above: My sumo painting was inspired by a holiday in Japan, where I attempted to snowboard, then realised that I wasn’t at all interested in being strapped to an ironing board and throwing myself down an icy mountain. So I stayed indoors, drinking hot chocolate and watched the sumo tournament on TV. It was all in Japanese, so I nicknamed the sumos by their faces, ‘Mean Guy’ and ‘Sad man’ were in the final. ‘Sad Man’ won, which was brilliant, because he was my favourite. The painting is of him. He’s actually from Mongolia and his real name is Dagvadorj Dolgorsurengiin, but he’ll always be ‘Sad Man’ to me. The little dog statues were a birthday gift from my best friend. I have a thing about dogs wearing cones, so she made little paper cones for them to wear.
Image above: So many of my favorite things were given to me as presents by my friends, like the Vincent Gallo cushion. What happened to him, by the way? He sort of disappeared after ‘Brown Bunny’, as well he should.
Image above: An assortment of priceless artworks and random paraphernalia on the shelves of my bedroom, or as my mother calls it, “Oh, Kristy…”
Image above: I buy really tacky snow globes when I travel, the crappier the better. Some of these are so old that the water is evaporating. HEARTBREAKING.
Image above: I have a long, enduring love for Bill Murray. I like funny things, and he is hilarious. This chair was nothing special before Bill turned up.
Image above: My living room, complete with gold pouf, comfortable couch, a couple of my dog portraits (one with cone, another sporting a sombrero, of course) and a few books…
Image above: Yet another dog cushion. I really need to get a pet. Or move.
Image above: I love books! I am thrilled that I had the chance to have one published last year. Books sandwiched between a dismembered Daschund just feels right in my apartment.
Image above: The living room and kitchen overlook the river while my bedroom has huge windows with a great view of New Farm and beyond. I can live with the sloping floor, peeling paint and unfathomable placement of soap dishes and light fittings because of the views from both sides of my apartment. There’s very little closet space, so I use a rack to hang my clothes.
Image above: The painting above my bed says, ‘If Jesus loved me I would not feel this way,’ which is my response to people saying, ‘Smile! Jesus loves you!’ when I’m in a bad mood. I bought the Ace Hotel blanket from the Ace Hotel in Portland. It’s a Pendleton and warm as toast.
Image above: These are some of the first paintings I did. I was going through a bit of a ‘I hate men’ stage, obviously. The coiled lamp is missing a bulb, but trust me, it looks great when it’s working.
Image above: This white tiger fabric painting cost $20 from a store in Portland. As is my wont, I had a bitch of a time getting it back to Australia, jamming it into my suitcase at the last minute and cracking the frame.
Image above: I went on an Etsy buying rampage when I first discovered it. This plate is from ‘trixiedelicious’ in New Zealand. What fresh hell is this, indeed. They decorate vintage plates with memorable sayings and profanity. I appreciate their work.
Image above: My sister-in-law is crafty, in the good-at-making-things sense of the word. She found this little table, painted it and made a mosaic top for it. I love sitting out here on my balcony, drinking tea and listening to drunk people scream along to Bon Jovi songs while the ‘party boats’ sail down the river on Friday and Saturday night.
Image above: My ‘studio’. As you can see, I have a very sophisticated writing technique. I scribble all over pieces of paper, then try to make sense of them later.
Image above: Here I am in my natural habitat, surrounded by trinkets, vintage furniture, bizarre art and face deep into a cup of coffee.