My great auntie Polyxene was a skilled needlepointer. I have two bottle green velvet cushions of hers, beautifully embroidered with flowers. If she was still alive, I might ask her to monogram me a pair of velvet slippers. Have a look at the work that Hunt & Hope do; cushions, headboards, poufs etc all hand-stitched with gorgeous and colourful needlepoint designs. This little footstool is utterly charming. Auntie P’s cushion would look grand with it.

Over the years, we’ve amassed a collection of coloured glasses — lapis blue tea glasses from Tangier, tumblers in amber, sage and marmalade from a vintage shop in Toronto, and ten ice creams glasses in red, pink and a smokey quartz that were a gift when we got married. A few months ago, I added six jubilantly coloured glasses to the collection, snapped up at Heathrow Airport of all places! This image on the right (from Bohemian Living by Robyn Lea) inspires me to display them on open glass shelves so we can enjoy the kaleidoscopic colour as the light pours through.

I wrote a letter the other day, and honestly, it took eight drafts to make it legible. My penmanship is pretty to look at, but impossible to read. It made me wonder about the stacks of cards and letters I’ve sent over the years that have been a massive effort for people to read, an effort that may have detracted from the sentiment. This is why email is handy. Text messages, too. But when I look at this charming writing desk, I’m inspired to pick up the pen again. Write more letters, work at making them legible.

Here’s my idea of a garden shed. A little stone house at the end of the garden, surrounded by wild fauna and flora. There’s a double chaise longue to have a rest on, and a kettle to make cups of tea. It’s where the gardening tools are kept, plus a stash of books, magazines and cozy blankets. It’s cool in the summer, and the wood stove makes it cozy in the winter. Heaven.

I really like the combination of racing green and peach in this charming room. It reminds me of my grandparents home in Bermuda, a little salmon pink cottage surrounded by a jungle of palm trees and grasses. I like the linens with the frilly edges, and the chintzy paper trim. I smell flowers and sand when I see this room, and I feel a humid breeze blowing through the curtains.

This style of sofa always reminds me of Savoiardi, the spongy biscuits that Italians dunk in their morning latte. I’ve never sat on one, but I bet it’s heavenly comfortable. Funnily enough, my bank has one in its main lobby. Next time I’m in there for a banker’s draft, I’ll test out its sponginess.

Chintz on chintz on chintz, I just love it. The Royal Ontario Museum is unveiling its collection of Indian chintz this October, and I’ll be there swooning over all of it.  In the meantime, have a gander around Lee Radziwill’s English country house. It was decorated by the Italian theatre set designer, Lorenzo “Renzo” Mongiardino, and reflects its owner’s love for florals.

That I once lived in Florence –– that I’d skip across the Arno to get to school –– all now feels like a bit of a dream. So, when I happened upon this post about the new Four Seasons Hotel in Firenze, it whisked me back. With many of its original Italian Renaissance details intact –– the  frescoes and chinoiserie walls –– the hotel (once a 15th Century convent) is grand, sumptuous and decadent. A Cioccolata calda in the lobby would be a lovely way to start a walk down memory lane.

Dodie Thayer‘s lettuce plates are so familiar to me; did my grandmother have a set? My parents? Anyway, I really love them, and if I happen upon a set of bowls in some sweet little vintage shop one day, I’ll snap them up on the spot. In the spirit of Thayer, Tory Birch has released a soft pink lettuce dinnerware, including this charming teapot and this lovely pitcher. The latter is perfect for Pimms, Dahling.