I don't reward bad behavior

Are you there, Emily Henderson? I didn't think so.
Anyways. It's me, 'Flogging A Dead Horse'.
Or at least, that's what I think my Native-American name would be.
But just in case this post finds you, I'd like to tell you about something.
I once idolized you. In decor, and styling, and being a cute bubbly blonde, you have many talents that I wasn't blessed with. That being said, there's room for improvement.
You must be a terrible golfer, because your 'follow-through' sucks.
(If you can take that sick burn, you can handle the rest of this honest (passive-aggressive) 'open letter' roast post, dedicated to you.)

Since this may be your first visit, and I know you aren't here to review my 25-or-so I'm a Giant related posts (apologies, I lost count) for some grand update, I'll go ahead and help you find this one. It's the one where I mentioned that I was going to make you a surprise. A really nice one. All you need to do is read the first paragraph there to figure out what happened with it after you snubbed the challenge.

This post is the action-packed sequel. But you have to stick around 'till the end for the juicy stuff.

I'll start by sharing with you one of my favorite childhood proverbs. Yes, I've had it memorized since I was about ten. No, I'm not kidding.

For me? Words to live by.

For you, food for thought.

And me being me, somehow, this didn't stick:

 So, attempting constructive criticism here; I'll say something nice, followed by some tough-love.

You are a stellar stylist/designer/decorator/tv-hostess with a great sense of humor.
You'll be needing it if you read on...

You really let me down on your 'I'm a Giant' Challenge. I know it's because you aren't finished with yours. And you probably feel bad. You probably think your silence is justified, being as busy as you are.
But if you, for even a second, think that you're any busier than the rest of us... you are sweetly yet sadly mistaken. The fact that you didn't even acknowledge the work of 82(+/-?) very busy people who only participated because you threw down an official challenge, regardless of your inability to hit two self-imposed deadlines?

Disrespectful. Shame on you. And your (coincidentally silent) friends. They (except Orlando) haven't said a single word about a challenge whose deadline passed almost three months ago. At least Orlando was Homme enough to admit that he got in over his head.

Now that I've finally got that off my chest...
Onward.

 I'd like to point your attention over to this blog/page. It's kind of a big deal. I've been told that you and your publicist have been contacted, but I'll show you here, too. Just in case, by some slim chance, you haven't yet feasted your pretty blue eyes. Yep, the participants all talk behind your back. We wouldn't if you'd only show your face. I've heard everyone's been e-mailing you and shit... if we didn't see regular blog posts coming from you, we might've sent someone to check for a pulse.
We are dying to see what you've done with your dollhouse, if you've made any progress since your last post. Just show us already. It's not a secret that you aren't finished. We just want to see what you came up with so far! As far as the final update post goes:

It's your lucky day! The work's already done for you, better than you could have managed yourself.

Score!!

When I go check out that page, in all of it's off-the-chain glory... I feel like we're all at a surprise party, thrown in your honor, waiting for you to show up.

I know that she spent an extraordinary amount of time, effort, and love in building that page and making sure all participants were accounted for. I think you owe her a big "thank you, I owe you my firstborn". Or at least one of these:

So here's my best "SURPRISE!"
I brought a gift to the party.
I can't just have unfinished stuff lying around. Forget my proverb already?
I, too, spent an extraordinary amount of time, effort, and love crafting this one of a kind, special replica for you. Blood, sweat and tears. Not 'tears' as-in boo-hoo. Those are for kids and sissies. Tears, as-in, rusty tools tearing into my flesh. Literally blood everywhere. Ever seen Dexter? Digging through my college immunization records for my last tetanus date was wicked fun.

Deep. There goes my hand-modeling career. Thanks for nothing, Emily.
Also of note, this injury afflicts the index finger on the hand that earns my paycheck. Whatever. Pain is weakness leaving the body. All damned week.

All in the name of your "coffee table soul mate".

Style By Emily Henderson

Style by TinyFixation.

Say what?!

Why, if I didn't know any better, I'd say the resemblance is striking.
 Right down to your copper nailhead detail...

 
Yes, it's real brass. And no, you can't have it. 
Yet.
Or maybe ever.
Am I a pretentious bitch for thinking you even want it? Absolutely.

But it's starting to look really good in my dollhouse.

  I could make it work in the master, too. If I had to.

Anyone notice that I finally matted and framed the "Captain Morgan Silver" box?  Deluxe.

 

I've had this 5"x7" printout of the actual coffee table hanging on the clipboard above my work bench for a very long time. I fussed and fought about measurements.

Soooo, seeing your response time to e-mails in action here...
I'm glad I 'guesstimated' on those measurements. I can only imagine how long it would take you to hit delete on an e-mail titled "Yo, I need the measurements of your new brass coffee table trunk thingy. Down to the inch. Real quick.". So it may not be a perfect 1:12 replica, but damn it, it's close. I have the top surface measuring 3.5" x 1.75", and the height at 1.5". Say whatever you want about the hardware being too big. I had to make that shit from scratch. My fingers were hurting for days. I'm fine with it. And the change in placement of the handles on the small ends. Isn't that what you show-biz types call 'creative license'? That modification makes it easier for one person to carry. Ha!

 
 Copper nailhead detail, and a close-up on hardware. Nevermind my tweezers.

 I made some sacrifices on this project. I didn't do working drawers. Not my style to skip details of that magnitude, but thank God. I would have kicked my own ass for going that far, for such little return. And to think, I was going to hand nail-trim this with real brass nail heads. They don't make copper ones small enough. I know because I searched forever before totally going in the cheap-out direction with technique. Not sorry for that either. I spent enough hours just plotting and punching pilot holes for said nails.
Planning, and plotting, and punching, and dilating. Those 636 individually pierced nail holes weren't going to make themselves. Hours. Injuries. I've forgiven myself for any imperfections or shortcomings in this item. There are many (I tried not to photograph them). I don't care. Everything has a good side and a bad side.
Everything.
The core is somewhat sentimental for me, as it was actually a part of my dollhouse that I ripped out during the early days of I'm a Giant.

That chunk of balsa that was once a stairwell landing (cut down to exact size, by hand, nopowertoolsthankyouverymuch) fills and supports the brass veneer. So you can't crush it. From my clumsy dollhouse, to yours.

I'm still not against gifting this to you and your dollhouse-in-progress. I'm just holding it for ransom...
I just want to know that you gave a shit about your challenge, the sacrifice made by the participants, and that you aren't ignoring our pleas for your participation. We are fans, after-all, or we would never have found out about it. Just do something. Looks like there's plenty of room in that swanky new office of yours. Spring is all about new beginnings, right? And give snaps where snaps are due for that massive, painstakingly and beautifully curated 'I'm a Giant' update.

I was always planning to make you a 'hostess gift', however silly, for doing the whole thing. And when I read this post (quoted below) I knew what it should be. But those were the glory days, a time of great possibility, before the coming and going of the second deadline.
Followed by 32 tracks of silence like a friggin' Dave Matthews album.
Just get to the bonus song already, dude.

stylebyemilyhenderson.com

"As soon as I saw this I knew there was no question that Emily had to have it. I mean, it's a gorgeous brass trunk table. What's not to like? Emily practically skipped down the street holding hands with this thing once we bought it." -Orlando (guest posting on Emily's blog)

But I guess we'll see. 

Maybe I just got myself a bitchin' new coffee table. And I can literally go skipping down the street with it. Because it's cute and tiny, and it fits in the palm of my giant hand. 

Imagine how bad-ass my replica would look sitting on top of the inspiration piece though...

I still like you. Hope the feeling's mutual.

Peace out,

Meagan