I own two Sonia Rykiel sweaters –– one a gift from my Mum and the other a gift to myself. I bought it at Selfridges almost 20-years ago, and it’s grey with a bow on one shoulder and stars and moons in the print. I haven’t worn it for years, but when I heard about Rykiel’s passing this morning, I thought of it immediately. If it weren’t so hot I’d have worn it in homage. Instead, I’ll wear stripes or a bow, or maybe something daring — because that’s just what she was.
I bought myself a tiny earring today, a diamond stud with an opal. It’s so small, you’ll need a magnifying glass to see it. I haven’t worn earrings in years, and this one is really pretty. My next purchase, when the mood strikes, will be a pair of giant earrings to wear with my tiny stud. The Goliaths to the David. These Annie Costello Brown ones will do nicely.
Tablecloths that could be skirts and skirts that could be tablecloths. I rarely use a tablecloth at home, much like I rarely bring out fabric napkins. But what a difference it makes when I do. Here’s to late summer suppers on gorgeous linens.
I’m a huge fan of Rachel Castle’s aesthetic –– her graphic bed linens, hand-sewn wall hangings, colourful prints and playful cushions. Her fantastic embroidered art works, with charming phrases like, “Sound the trumpets” and “Do the Cha Cha” remind me of a farewell quilt that my friends Stephanie and Polly made me when I moved to Toronto. “We love you Athena,” they hand stitched with felt and love on to huge piece of heavy, cream fabric. It was such a wonderful gift. Take a look at Castle’s website. Even if you don’t buy something, her work is guaranteed to put you in a good mood.
To live in a house that looks like a cake, well, wouldn’t that be grand? Many years ago, we stayed at L’Hôtel du Palais in Biarritz and that really was grand. Our room was enormous, and decorated in the softest shades of yellow and peach and terracotta. We were there just one night, but what a treat it was. I could happily, like Coco, live in a hotel. Fresh linens and fluffy robes, concierge and room service –– oui, merci.
At a men’s clothing sale last winter, I came across the beautifully printed silk ties of English haberdasher, Drakes. As luck would have it, the brand has teamed up with JCrew on a line of stunning pajama inspired shirts and trousers, scarves and shoes that has my name all over it. Think pink and greens and rich royal blues. Think unicorns, peacocks and bengal tigers. I’m going head-to-toe printed silk, because –– well, why not?
In the category of landmark houses, the home of Charles and Ray Eames tops my list. Built in 1949 as a live/work space for the designers, Bridge House (or Case Study House no. #8) is stunning in its sheer simplicity and functionality. “They wanted a home that would make no demands for itself,” says the Eames official site, “and would serve as a background for, as Charles said, “life in work,” with nature as a “shock absorber.”’ Today the house is run by the couple’s daughter Lucia Eames as a not-for-profit organization that preserves and celebrates her parent’s legacy. The House can be visited by appointment, and if I’m ever in L.A., it’s the first place I’d go. Well, maybe after I pop in on Rihanna.
When Luma was born, I felt like this bright, white light burst into the world. There was no other name for her. Illuminate: to supply or brighten with light; to make lucid or clear; to decorate with lights, as in celebration; to enlighten, as with knowledge; to make resplendent or illustrious, a smile illuminated her face. My daughter’s name also means sunset in Arabic. Because the light isn’t always white. Sometimes, it’s golden.
On a small island a few hours north of the city stands an old pine cabin that was built by a family from Iowa in the 1930s. My sister-in-law and her husband bought the cabin a couple of years ago and it’s where they spend as much of the summer as they can. There’s a composting toilet, no electricity and the few appliances –– a fridge and a stove –– are from the 50s. Old recipes for corn bread and such are pinned to the walls, and the cupboards are stocked with decades-old household tools and necessities. Antique skis and a “Gone Fishing” sign hang above the tiny hallway to the bedrooms. Beyond updating the dock, they’ve kept the cabin as it always was. And It’s charming. Hanging out in a little log cabin among the stars and the lakes and the loons is a pretty lovely way to spend your summer. Lucky for us, we get to visit from time to time.
My hair has lived in a knot on top my head for as long as I can remember. Once in a pink moon, I wear it down. But lately, I’ve been thinking about a chop. I’ve always loved Audrey with her pixie cut, and Winona, Mia and Jean, too. I wore it that way a long time ago, and it looked pretty cute. But can I say Ta-Ta to le top-knot? It’s just hair, I know. But it does feel awfully bold –– far more so than when I cut it Farrow short in my 20s. It’s funny how attached we are to long hair, even when it’s always tied up in a messy nest. It’s the possibility of that pink moon, I think.
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