This image of Hartje Andresen by Elle Muliarchyk is ridiculous and brilliant and proves that sometimes less is more is a bore. So, when the mood strikes, choose florals, choose zigzags, and choose to stand out. Better yet, stand on your head.
Many years ago, Jason and I drove through the desert, from the lush, clean city of San Diego into the seedy town of Tijuana and down into the depths of Baja California. The drives were long and the terrain monotonous, and by the half way point, cacti started to look like emaciated Giacometti figures. Suffice to say, I’m not a big fan of the cactus. But every now and then, I see a tall, willowy cactus and I’m reminded of that long drive through the desert. Eagle-Eye Cherry on the radio, re-fried beans in every rickety old town, dodgy motels, stunning beaches –– just the two of us –– and the cacti.
When I was little, getting dressed up was one of my favourite things to do. My friend Alexandra and I used to spend hours in her Mum’s cupboard, trying on taffeta tops and satin puffballs. My father’s wife had so many fun, sparkly things to try on, also –– sequined tube tops and organza harem pants, pearls, feathers and chunky, gold jewels. The French family that lived next door was big on fancy dress. Georgina, the five-year-old, had a massive wooden box filled to the brim with tutus, smocked dresses, velvet capes and tiaras, galore. We spent our afternoons rehearsing plays and performing for our Mums in the rose pink living room. My kids love to get dressed up. Come to think of it, I still do, too.
I painted my toes a deep red-coral on Saturday, and snapped up a rug for the bathroom in the brightest turquoise, too. I can’t tell you how pleasing it is to look down at my bare feet on the bathroom floor. The colour combination is stellar.
I’m often on the lookout for stool options for our kitchen table. The juxtaposition of these low brow plastic cups with fancy gilded doors, delicate sconces and an industrial table amuses me. I’m not sure how comfortable they are on the derriere, but for quick breakfasts and casual suppers, I think this is a fun little stool. Cincin!
I bought an outfit today at Zara –– simple, monochromatic, slightly avant garde –– that’s quite unlike me. The pants have a million Miyake pleats in them and the top, wide and billowy, is a fine knit graphic silk. Except it’s not, because it cost $29, but sod it, it looks good. And while I was drawn to the floral tops that look like curtains, the sparky tulle skirts and the leggings in bright colours, it’s always fun to veer off track.
The salt water pool at my local community centre has re-opened after a massive renovation, and I can’t wait to put on my frilly cap and dive in. The water will be bracingly cold this week, but with hot days like these, who needs tepid water. In the meantime, I’m still dreaming of my own piscine –– big enough for a pool party, and small enough that one mermaid makes a splash.
If the look of traditional topiary is too stiff and stuffy for you, take a look at Jake Hobson‘s work. The Dorset-based pruner and topiary specialist studied sculpture at the Slade. He then went on to live in Japan for two years where he was introduced to Japanese gardening and pruning techniques. His style of “organic topiary” marries Japanese and European approaches to topiary and embraces the “natural shape of plants as much as the formal and mass sculptural style of pruning like we see in Europe.” If you have a few minutes today, watch the short video on his homepage –– it really is quite inspiring.
All rights reserved © La Parachute · Theme by Blogmilk + Coded by Brandi Bernoskie