My imaginary cinema

I love old film posters for horror movies. The graphics are usually really bold and attention grabbing, the characters mysterious and beautiful. In my imaginary house, (which is obviously situated in a sprawling estate, each room styled to perfection and filled with wonderful objects I've lovingly collected and effortlessly thrown together to create a unique and impressive overall ambiance of Nom), I have a cinema.

My imaginary cinema is not all plush with red velvet seats and an usher who flashes a torch in your eyes and tells you where you have to sit, oh no. My imaginary cinema has a huge white back wall, which the projector shoots the chosen film, so it feels a bit like an American drive through (except without the cars, because, it's inside the house). The rest of the walls are painted black, so that all you can focus on is the cinema wall and you feel like you're in a little den. There are an assortment of mismatched chairs, sofas and Fat Boys. There's a little popcorn machine in the back and a fridge filled with beer and cokes. Finally, in case you're wondering where the hell I'm going with this, there are a bunch of cross-stitched cushions, finely worked with vintage film posters. Like these:

Les Maitresses de Dracula, which costs $6 (about £4) from Pop Soup Supplies on Etsy would be an horrific addition to the collection, particularly useful for hiding behind in blood-curdling scream inducing cinematic moments (which happen more often than you'd think, I'm a massive scaredy-cat).

This Frankenstein cross stitch pattern would also prove suitable for this purpose; it costs $5 from Robin's Design:

As would this other Dracula poster, also $5 from Robin's Design:

I'm still searching for designs for other film genres. But these three should keep me busy enough for the time being.