A room with honeycomb terracotta tiles and various shades of yellow is a lovely place to start. Bring vintage cutlery, large white candles, cream linen napkins, vino rosso and a huge ceramic bowl of spaghetti carbonara to the table, and the rest of the story just writes itself.
I’ve read a lot of essays on motherhood over the last eight years, but Caitlin Moran’s posthumous advice for her daughter and Tina Fey’s prayer for a daughter remain my favourites, and the ones I return to again and again. “And when she one day turns on me and calls me a Bitch in front of Hollister, Give me the strength, Lord, to yank her directly into a cab in front of her friends, For I will not have that Shit. I will not have it.” Happy Mother’s Day to all the beautiful Mamas. “The main thing is just to try to be nice. You already are – so lovely I burst, darling – and so I want you to hang on to that and never let it go. Keep slowly turning it up, like a dimmer switch, whenever you can. Just resolve to shine, constantly and steadily, like a warm lamp in the corner, and people will want to move towards you in order to feel happy, and to read things more clearly.”
Forget the food, the feast is in the flowers and fabrics. With a table setting this magnificent, you could serve boiled eggs and your guests would be happy. I’m wild about the mismatched plates and table cloths, and all those flowers are simply divine. More is more –– don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.
It’s tough to justify spending lots of money on cotton pants and tops and caftans, but as that’s my wardrobe from May to October, I’m willing to splurge on brands I love. Ace & Jig is my absolute favourite in this category, with gorgeous fabrics and effortless styles that take me from the beach to a baptism. This girl has the right idea with batik pants and an ivory lace smoking jacket. It’s chic and carefree, which is what summer is all about.
What a lovely kitchen this is –– the Farrow & Ball teal, (at least it looks like F&B) the herringbone floor, brass hardware and the double door glass windows. I like a kitchen where the appliances are hidden, and I always think of my friend Buket when I spot a sink window. “Dishes feel like less of a chore with a lovely view.” How right she is.
“When you do things for a child –– tie her laces, wipe her bottom –– you are giving her the message that she’s not capable of doing those things for herself,” Iole’s Montessori teacher used to often say. “So what if she wears her right shoe on her left foot, the key is that she attempted to put on her shoes. One day, she’ll figure it out. And these tiny feats will feel like huge triumphs. Let them struggle, let them muddle, and let them bask in the glory of sussing it all out, one shoe lace at a time. ”
We watched a beautiful film called Given last night, about a family of surfers, (Mum, Dad, six-year-old Given and his baby sister, True) who pack up their island home of Kauai to travel the world. With Given as our narrator, we travel through 15 countries –– Iceland, Thailand and Peru, among them –– and see the sea, the sand, the poppy fields and the snow capped mountains through his eyes. We watch Given’s father, Aamion teach him to craft a spear and start a fire, to build a shelter out of bamboo and palm leaves, all the while sharing life wisdoms with his son. It’s all very idyllic and bathed in golden light. But with a curious, wanderlusting 6-year-old at the helm, that is just what it should be.
Author and bloom magician, Lewis Miller is back to creating stunning floral pop ups all over NYC. From random little streets to major landmarks, Lewis and his team are adorning the city with daisies, orchids, gladioli, tulips, carnations and roses. The arrangements are theatrical and joyous, and are no doubt making a lot of New Yorkers very happy. And that’s his goal: to put a smile on people’s faces. In celebration of Rei Kawakubo and this year’s Met Ball, a mohawk of Liatris adorns the Botero sculpture outside the Crosby Street Hotel. “Rei is such an icon and an iconoclast, and Commes des Garçons is a groundbreaking label that represents metamorphosis through design. We thought it only fitting to turn the cat into an avant-garde skunk.”
There are so many things about Georgia O’Keefe that inspire me. When she moved from New York to New Mexico, her heartland, she taught herself to drive –– a rarity for women in 1929. I imagine her driving those open desert roads all alone in her Ford-Model-A, (nicknamed “Hello”) a couple of horse skulls and three canvases in the back. She used the car as a makeshift studio, folding down the seats and setting up her easel so as to avoid the harsh rays of the sun. ‘This afternoon, G. and I put on our bathing suits, connected the hose, and washed the Ford. Much shrieking with laughter and it came out shining like a new button,” wrote O’Keefe’s friend, Rebecca Strand to her husband back in New York. Here she is, in her mobile studio, shot by another great friend, Ansel Adams.
“What if the world asks you to be big at the same time it makes you small?” I watched a beautiful short film today, from Brooklyn director Pamela Romanowsky called Khethiwe and the Leopard. It’s set in South Africa and tells the story 13-year-old Khethiwe, a courageous dreamer who faces her bullies with the help of a leopard that she befriends. My beautiful, and richly talented friend, Zelmira was the DOP on the film. Please watch it when you have a moment, and while you’re there check out other films in the ShatterBox Anthology series.
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