A modern twist on the classic Venetian gondolier’s slipper, is how Le Monde Beryl describes its beautiful, jewel tone flats. The fuschia satin mule is my favourite, (surprise, surprise) but in fantasy land, I’d own at least ten colours. I’d wear them everywhere, and with everything –– yes, even under joggers to the corner shop. And just imagine how pretty they’d look lined up in an entryway.
It’s been said that Louis XIV had 413 four posters –– “the bed of kings, and the king of beds.” Well, these days they’re making a comeback, returning as a minimal version of their once opulent selves. As a child I had the posts, (lucky, me) but no drapes to play hide and seek behind. So, if I ever have a four poster bed again, I’d go the whole way, with a romantic canopy (circus fabric, perhaps) and decadent wood posts.
It was my friend Stephanie who inspired me to bring Eucalyptus leaves into the home. Last time we visited her and her family in New York, I noticed a large glass pitcher stuffed full of tall Eucalyptus branches on the dining room table. What a simple way to bring colour and texture (and scent) into a room. They’re not expensive, and they last for weeks. Even dry they look great. I buy them often now, and plonk them in vessels all over the house.
I’m a sucker for stripes, I really am, and red and white ones are hard to beat. Maybe it’s because I think of the circus, or a Punch and Judy show, but I can’t help but smile when I see them. This little nook is calling my name. I like the whimsy of the stripe next to the formal of the painting. Who’s he writing to?
London has cherry blossoms, New York, too. But in Toronto, we’re still counting snowdrops, one by one. Before long, we’ll also have cherry blossoms and tulips in our paths, but in the meantime, Laura Jones‘ flowers paintings will have to do. Have a look –– they might brighten your day. They did mine.
I found this image of tarts made by the Le Meurice‘s pasty chef, Cedric Grolet, and I had to share it. Aren’t they beautiful? Have a look at Grolet’s instagram feed, it’s one exquisite confection after another. His almond cake (keep scrolling) looks like heaven on a Carrara marble counter.
I find minimal design beautiful, but boring. Give me tchotchke, colour clashes and contradictions. “Maximal” is how owner and children’s clothing designer, Victoria Roper describes her charmingly higgledy-piggledy cottage in the thick of the English countrside.. Every room is a hodge podge of print and colour, and no room is without books, toys and pictures. I love the vintage beds in the children’s rooms and the bright yellow (like freshly churned butter) in the kitchen is delightful. Take a look at the Eat Me Drink Me Cottage’s instagram page, or better yet, book a holiday there.
For as long as I can remember, I had imagined a baby boy. It wasn’t that I had my heart set on raising sons, it’s just how I thought it would be. So when Antimo was born it felt that I’d known him all my life. In the moments after his birth, the nurse handed me my baby and urged me to speak to him. “He’ll recognize your voice,” she said. But all I wanted was to be silent. “He already knows who I am.” Happy Birthday my sweet boy, your heart is filled with honey.
In the late 60s, textile artist, Sheila Hicks was commissioned to create two tapestries for the Ford Foundation’s auditorium and boardroom. Fifty years later, after much ware and tare, Sheila was commissioned to re-create the tapestries at her atelier in Paris. If you have a moment, watch this video as it’s quite lovely. “In all of the cultures of the world, textiles are a crucial and essential component, therefore if you’re beginning with thread, you’re half way home.” Here she is in 1989, photographed by Cristobal Zañartu.
My children ask at least once a week when I’m going to learn to drive. The question typically comes when we’re pegging it up Spadina, and we’re late for school. Or when I offer them a scenic route to their swimming classes in Chinatown. In my fourty years, I’ve always lived in the centre of town, and I’ve rarely felt limited by not having a car. Jason drives, I have good friends with cars –– I’m set. Until I’m not. And those are the days when I wish I had a license. I’m not sure where I’d go. Maybe the supermarket, or to Nova Scotia. Two feet are great, but sometimes, four wheels are better.
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