Marc Ange’s Le Refuge reminds me of a Rousseau painting. It’s part of the designer’s Invisible Collection, created in collaboration with the Green Gallery. Because I have a penchant for pink, I think I’d select this beautiful dusty rose for my leafy oasis. Now where to put it? Ah yes, beside the bougainvillea, oleander and orange trees.
I can’t imagine a more delightful bed for a child than this one. I love the natural wood, and all the intricate carving on the headboard. I think this little girl must only dream of lovely things. Take a look at the rest of the house. It’s filled with a lovely light and life and appears so warm and charming.
My grandmother’s staple evening attire was a crisp white shirt worn with tailored black pants and plenty of diamonds. She must have owned at least 20 shirts; the grander the event, the more ruffles on the shirt. I have one of her shirts, a Theory one with ruffles a plenty. It’s completely unlike me, and yet I feel very much myself in it.
I was looking at American architect, Eugene Tsui‘s nature inspired houses this afternoon, and imagining what it would be like to live inside his amazing Fish House. It’s bizarre and otherworldly, much like all his structures. The house was designed for Tsui’s parents and is modeled after a tardigrade, which the architect describes as “the world’s most indestructible living creature.” I’d like to sit in the living room, if only to imagine what it feels like to live in a house on the moon.
In Gero Von Boehm‘s documentary on Peter Lindbergh, the photographer talks about the richness, depth and beauty of melancholy and how all the wonderful, fine layers in a woman’s face disappear when she laughs. “You can see so much in faces that aren’t laughing. But if they laugh, you see someone who is laughing. It drowns everything else out. It destroys it.” Lindbergh’s serious portraits of Uma Thurman, Kate Moss, Tilda Swinton et. al. are exquisite, but who can resist this photo of Isabella Rossellini?
My mum said nothing about the thick black eye makeup and bleach blond streaks. She said nothing about the chipped Rouge Noir nails and laddered tights. She said nothing when I shaved the underside of my head. But she did insist I never mess with my eyebrows. Barring a short phase of highly stylized brows, I listened. Now, I’m back to where I started with thick, natural brows that I pay very little attention to. Had she badgered me about all the other stuff, I may well have gone rogue with my brows, and who knows what else. A battle well chosen, Mama.
Regular readers know how much thought I give to my dream guest loo. Ditch the tub, and this is just the sort of dizzyingly fun experience I think a visit to the loo should be. With its gorgeous Moroccan tiles and antique fringed hand towels, this is also a gem. And although I’m not usually one for animal print, this subtle take on dalmatian is dynamite.
The only think I like about cats are their eyes. No one does the cat eye like Sophia Loren. Here’s a good little tutorial on how to achieve ones like hers. I kind of love these supersized cat flicks and these ones, too. Also, if I did like cats, I’d have a Russian Blue, and her name would be Begonia.
Here’s a question –– which of Bijou Karman’s painted girls would you most want as your friend? With her sweet bob and fuchsia rosette, this one tops my list. She reminds me of Margot Tenenbaum. I’d hazard that she doesn’t talk much, but has a lot to say. And that she’s brilliantly funny, in a dry, sardonic way. I’d also like to be friends with this bicorne-wearing gal. She looks serious, but I bet she’s hilarious. I also know who I wouldn’t want to be friends with — but that’s not kind to say.
Mustard is a favourite colour of mine. I have a wonderful oversized cardigan, and a pair of Ferragamo Varina’s, both in mustard, that I love. It’s not the prettiest colour on the palette, or as cheerful as other yellows like marigold, but it is regal. Princess moments ask for a Louis XV style sofa in mustard velvet with gold trim, don’t you agree?
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