I’ve always had a thing for white cotton Victorian dresses and blouses. When I lived in Kensington Market, I used to spend hours at Courage my Love admiring all the beautiful frocks in white Damask. The shop still carries them today. I have a couple of dresses –– richly embroidered with a dainty drop waist –– that are pretty and demure, and Victorian in spirit. But one of these days, I’ll buy the real thing and wear it with a pair of kick-ass trainers.
I was reading about Kettle’s Yard this morning –– the museum in Cambridge that was once home to art collector, Jim Ede. He converted the space with his wife Helen in the 50s in order to house their ever-growing collection of Brancusis, Picassos and Mondrians. In 1966, Ede gave the house and collection to the University, but insisted that everything remain as he left it. I imagine it’s terribly cool to see a Hepworth or a Miró among books and houseplants. I love these Valenti paintings hanging above this Lucy Rie bowl. The room –– and house in general –– is spartan, but lived-in, and totally un-curated. In fact, it looks nothing like a museum, which was exactly Ede’s point.
I like to see connections in things –– a snail’s shell iterated in a spiral staircase, the stripes of an angelfish on a shimmery blouse. I’ve seen the Statue of Liberty many times, but never from above. The star shaped base made me think instantly of this Solange Azagury-Partridge ring. The inspiration for the ring likely didn’t come from Liberty, but how exciting that such connections are possible.
Aerial photographs, architecture, housing, ports, airports, marinas
Yesterday, Iole and I were very politely asked to leave the JCC. It was a tiny bit awkward for me, but much more awkward for the nice chap who’d been sent down to tell me off. A child, I discovered, is not allowed to hang out with her Mum while she lifts 3lbs dumbbells. The dumbbell could fall on the kid’s foot. Fair enough. And the Mum should be wearing appropriate work-out gear. A Mexican cotton moomoo and leopard print ballerinas didn’t qualify. So, my attempt at a little weight training just got super boring without Iole there to sing and giggle with me. I wonder if a Bonnie Cashin towelling toga would be ok?
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I was told today that the new pool at my local community centre could be ready as soon as August, and in my world (mermaid world) that’s reason to celebrate. In the meantime, I’m tempted to purchase one of Joanne Ho’s delightful paintings of pool life. This Moroccan style one is fancy and I adore the tropical tiles at this pool. Maybe I could put a note in at the front desk –– PRINTED TILES AND MOORISH ARCHES, PLEASE.
Baby’s breath is a flower with a bad rap, mostly because it keeps such close company with red roses. On its own though, as a delicate bridal bouquet or planted in terracotta pots, it can be quite lovely. At a wedding we went to on Porto Heli a couple of weeks ago, the couple stood under a custom boxwood altar covered in tiny buds of baby’s breath. It was really quite stunning. It helped that the bride –– 6-feet tall in Elie Saab –– was such a beauty.
Last week, near a pebble beach on the island of Tzia, my family sat under the shade of pale green tarp to have lunch. “In any other setting, this would be a weathered, old tarp,” I said to my Mum who was travelling with us.. “Here, it looks like an artful canopy.” I felt the same way about the rusty old olive oil tins packed with fresh herbs surrounding the taverna. And the chipped terracotta pots stuffed full of geraniums on the beach nearby. The white walls and lapis blue shutters on s small stone house up the dirt road from the taverna were decreppid, but in this setting, the house was charming and romantic. Between relentless winds, rain and the intense heat and light of the sun, island homes and everything in and around them, are at the mercy of the elements. But it’s that natural decay that makes them so beautiful.
For a family that shares a bathroom, two sinks can save the day in the morning. This one here is pretty stunning. The brass hardware, geometric tiles, handsome wall sconces –– I like it all. Of course, the image does leave me wondering, where do they stash the toothpaste?
These pink bubble lamps just installed at the Louvre’s Café Mollien in Paris look like vintage dryers –– only more glamorous. I like the combination of the brushed gold with the rosé pink glass. The 4.5-meter high lamps are designed by Mathieu Lehanneur. No doubt Mona Lisa approves.
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