Posts from May 2020


May 18, 2020

I keep circling back to Fornasetti’s clouds. A collaboration with Cole & Son, Nuvolette, little clouds, is such a moody and atmospheric wallpaper. It reminds me of a dramatic British sky, over Battersea Bridge, or the beaches of Norfolk. I’ve seen it used everywhere from laundry rooms to dining rooms.

spring forward

May 16, 2020

Today felt like Spring. In a world that’s on its head, it’s reassuring when we can count on a season to send an evening that is beautiful, and wholly familiar. Between the rain and the sun, the city is suddenly green. The tree outside our window, and the ones that line our street, have gone from barren to blooming in days. Magnolias, tulips and daffodils colour street corners. The air is scented with blossom and cleaning product. The light is warm and lifting.

big screen

May 14, 2020

One of my favourite things to do, is to walk over to the Ted Rogers Theatre and catch a lunchtime documentary. The opportunity for that is rare, but I enjoy few things more. Sometimes I go with someone, but very often I go alone, which also feels like an indulgence. This morning, I thought about the cinema, and how long it will be before we comfortably enjoy it again. I thought about the many makeshift versions people might create this summer –– DIY backyard movie theatres, drive in cinemas, films projected into garages, parking lots and backstreet alleyways –– and how resourceful and creative this period is making us all. For me, watching documentaries at the cinema is about learning and reflecting, while satiating a need for solitude, all within an experience that is communal. I don’t have the same urge to watch documentaries on my couch. Golda in the garden, anyone? Agnes Varda in the alley?

maxed out

May 13, 2020

The home decor I love most is the one that defies trends, the one that makes no sense, and all sense, and the one that reflects the spirit of the people who live within its walls. I don’t expect you all to love this aesthetic –– mismatched and decorated to the max — but we can’t not admire the creativity, playfulness, confidence and joy of it all. Scroll down from the top. If anything, it will make your jam-packed home feel minimalist.


May 13, 2020

I’ve walked past this bronze sculpture over a hundred times. Each time, I scan my eye across the 21 figures, and wonder which of them looks most satisfied. Is it the children playing baseball or kicking a ball in the air? Is it the man marvelling at the stars through a telescope? Or the one lifting a baby up in the air? Or is it the women walking to work with what appears to be great purpose? Or the woman standing poised with a baby on her back. I’ve observed them all under a canopy of Autumn colours, mounds of snow, and drenched in bright sunlight as they were today. And wondered which of these people do I most connect with. And over the years, I’ve realized that I see a smidgen of myself in each and every one. A smidgen of most of us, in fact. And maybe that’s why I find this work so accessible, and so hard to walk past without pausing to reflect. It’s called “Community” and the sculptor is Kirk Newman.


May 12, 2020

I associate grapes with beautiful women in turbans and chandelier earrings who lie around on silk brocade sofas sipping Vermouth from a coupe. They also remind me of my Nana, Claire who used to peel her grapes before she ate them which I always found weird. I’m quite sure the Italians eat grapes on New Year’s Eve for good luck. As with all fruit, grapes have to be really plump and shiny, and likely covered in some fake wax coating, for me to find them enticing. I think I’d rather wear them as earrings.

stitch in time

May 11, 2020

When I was about ten, I made my first skirt. It was a simple A-line silhouette, and it was cut from a delicate, floral fabric. That skirt is the only item of clothing I’ve ever made, not counting all the jeans I’ve turned into shorts. I’m hopeless with a needle and thread, I can barely darn a sock. But I love to imagine all the things I would make if I could sew. For starters, I’d make my summer wardrobe of caftans and loose fitting pajama pants, as well as an endless supply of printed napkins and throw pillows. Nothing fancy, but things I usually pay someone else to make that I wish I could do myself. It’s a basic skill I learned as a child. I should have kept it up.

different strokes

May 8, 2020

It’s been a long time since I’ve swum. Even before the pandemic, I was edging away from the pool, substituting breaststroke for sun salutations. It was winter, and for the first time in a very long time, I didn’t feel like swimming. Correction –– I did feel like swimming, I just didn’t want to get wet. And cold. And covered in chlorine. I didn’t want to wrestle with my cap. I didn’t feel like getting to the pool to find nine people in my preferred lane. I didn’t feel like a mouthful of pool water every time a zero-etiquette swimmer splashed past me. I didn’t feel like dodging soggy plasters on my way to the showers. In the past, none of that bothered me. Well, it bothered me, but the joy of swimming was such that I was able to make a mends with it all. I have swum for five years, and swimming has buoyed me in a way that no other exercise ever has. I am eternally grateful to the pool, and to the beautiful people I’ve shared it with over these years. When the pool re-opens, I’m not sure how I’ll feel. Part of me can’t wait to experience those first few strokes, the last few, the weightlessness, the swoosh. And another part of me, (the one with a blocked ear and hairy legs) doesn’t want to go anywhere near a pool. We’ll see. In the meantime, I’m contemplating baths.

in the pink

May 8, 2020

It won’t happen in this life, but the idea of drawers lined in Schiaparelli pink billiard table cloth is a dream of mine. My grandmother’s cutlery would love it. Sometimes, the idea alone is enough. Know what I mean?

Like a lokal

May 6, 2020

I keep seeing pictures of the lovely Lokal Hotel in Philadelphia, where “invisible service” (from automated coded check-ins to in room iPads), laundry facilities, and oat milk in the fridge, make it feel like home away from home. The six apartments are designed by Jersey Ice Cream Company, and include soaring ceilings, swooney kitchens, chic Scandi furnishings. When they’re up and running again, I’d happily move in. Cheesesteak?

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