It's disturbing, the way this bizarre fascination crept up on me. Disgust morphed into curiosity, and before I knew it (um, was I sleeping while this transformation took place?) I found myself, glazed over like a zombie, eyeballs blue from the computer-glow, researching antique taxidermy at 3 in the morning.
Enter the (other) problem. In my mind, beat up, antique skins (or otherwise fabrics that closely replicate them) are the only way to go, but tiger and zebra are notoriously difficult to find in this form. Part of what makes these rooms so appealing to me is the dusty, smoky atmosphere and romance of a story, and the common cotton tiger (zebra, leopard, whatever) print just doesn't suffice. Neither does acrylic "fur." Not to mention that most prints are so uniformly intense in color and pattern. They just don't hit bullseye, so to speak.
The solution? You might remember this room —the painted hunting scene is a vestige from an earlier incarnation. Convenient, the way these things work out. To fill in the gaps, we did what we always do in these situations: PAINT OURSELVES INTO OBLIVION. Specifically, I'm referring to the zebra "hide" (painted on canvas, mounted on wool felt) and tiger upholstery (yup, canvas too). The pillow (painted griffins backed with the dreaded ubiquitous cotton leopard print) and red table are also our creations, albeit from a while back, resuscitated for the intensity of their color.
Anyway, since I'm pretty damn certain that no trophy room ever involved a "Naugahyde," we temporarily deep ditched the sofa in favor of this chair, which has become, as you can clearly see, an experiment in, well... animal.
Christmas whiskey, smoking a cigar (or is a pipe more fitting?) and reading Rudyard Kipling in my own trophy chair. All upon return from safari, of course.
Above, Teddy Roosevelt (check out that fringe), and his very own trophy room. Images from theodore-roosevelt.com.
All other images photographed and created by (IN)DECOROUS TASTE.