I met a girl called Amaryllis once. She was a pretty girl with a regal nose and hair spun from gold. There are other flower names –– Daisy, Poppy, Lily –– that are lighter for a girl to carry. Amaryllis is a big name, grand like the flower. The English love flower names; Marigold is a personal favourite, and I like Chrisanthemum, too. If I’m ever batty enough to have a trio of dogs, I might call them Marigold, Chrisanthemum and Amaryllis.
With hundreds of beautiful baubles, red ribbons, crystal stalactites and garlands of gold macaroni, our Christmas tree was always a sight to behold. It was a splendid tree and my memories of life around it are tinged with magic and wonder. But there’s a human side of this high wattage holiday that always circles around the Christmas tree, too. The stress of dragging a 10-foot Fir through the front door and up our narrow staircase; my Mum in floods of tears as she faught with finicky lights; a fight so big between my brother and I that the whole tree came crashing down. It was all as much a part of the season as the joy of finding gorgeously wrapped gifts under the tree on Christmas morning. Father Christmas came! And he ate each and every biscuit!. Oh, Christmas tree, with all your sparkle, shining a light on us all.
I realized this morning, as we woke up to a city covered in meringue, that Luma, age three, was seeing snow for the first time. At least that’s how it would have felt for her. I’d say the first big snowfall feels wonderous and amazing regardless of ones age. Even though you know it’s coming, it always catches you by surprise. Indeed, the first snowfall is an exquisite reminder of the majesty of winter. Never does Toronto look so beautiful as when covered in nature’s finest desert.
I’ve worn the same full length, letterbox red Canada Goose coat for years. It’s splattered with gouache from an outdoor painting session which only makes me love it more. That said, there are days when I’d rather not turn up to dinner in a duvet. Enter the UNIQLO base puffer. It’s warm and ultra fine and slips easily under any winter coat. This navy one would look super cool under my wool pink coat, but I rather like the idea of a sleeveless one in orange, too. Come Spring and early Fall, it’ll be the stand alone jacket that every girl needs.
I was in search of a brooch a few weeks ago, and much to my dismay all I found in my bijoux drawer, was a tiny gold safety pin. It reminded me how we all we need at least one gorgeous brooch to pin to a beret, the collar of a chic silk blouse, or in my case, to fasten a button-less coat with. This Lulu Frost is an upgrade on my safety pin, and I’d take any of the vintage charmers below.
I’m smitten with Jane Muir‘s ceramic people. These dames here look like a senior’s choir, and Mr. and Mrs. Moss, remind me of a couple in my neighbourhood. I love Pea Pod Head, and this little lady with her navy tulip dress is divine. Which one is your favourite?
I think I was about twelve-years-old when I bought my first moisturizer. It was Oil of Ulay, and I remember piling it on like whipped cream on a waffle. One hundred moisturizers later, it’s Joanna Vargas that I’m using. I still wonder what part products plays versus diet, environment, lifestyle etc… But I do know how lovely it feels to smooth softly scented cream into clean skin. Lovely enough to warrant going back for more, again and again.
I love to read stories about friends who’ve come together to create a business that reflects their friendship and shared talents. Berlin natives, Laura Muthesius & Nora Eisermann have so much talent between them, and their blog, Our Food Stories is a delight to scroll through. Laura has a fashion background and Nora is a photographer, and together they now whip up imaginative gluten free meals artfully photographed among the plum trees. It’s all very beautiful, and mouthwatering. Cake in the vineyards looks like a bit of a dream, actually. Friends noshing on a pear pumpkin cake in the fields of a charming chateau close to Bordeaux –– sign me up.
Iole is reading a version of Twefth Night, written for children by lois Burdett. I studied Shakespeare for years at school, and Twelfth Night was one our GCSE texts. But years later, all I could remember were Malvolio’s yellow tights. Clearly, I retained the play just long enough to write an exam, and then poof, it all disappeared. But to this day, when I see a pair of yellow tights, it’s Malvolio that I think of. They’re hard to pull off — few outside Malvolio have.
More is more is more! It’s all so utterly over the top, but how fabulous is this room! I want to move in for a month –– watch old movies in bed, invite friends over for Darjeeling, read laugh-out-loud books, and have club sandwiches brought to me for breakfast. Yes, that’s sounds like a lovely way to spend the month of December.
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