Quite a Find

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I can’t remember if I first saw the mention for Keith Johnson’s new show Man Shops Globe in Elle Decor or on Style Court, but when I did see it I thought, “I remember their (Johnson’s partner is Glen Senk) kitchen from House and Garden.” And, since I am a crazy person, I hunted and pecked and was giddy to discover that I still had the issue. The March ’06 issue, not the issue of the obsession with House & Garden, though I have that, too.

It’s a pretty jazzy job, Johnson’s, to find antiques and inspiration for Anthropologie, and I wondered what it’s like to shop for a living. Travel and shop. Seems if one were design obsessed, it would be a dream come true. “There are so many things that can go wrong. I have painfully discovered them all,” says Johnson. Like all dream jobs there are details and logistics the dreamer might not imagine. “Getting things back in one piece from far flung places is a big one. You may recognize when something looks good where you are, but correctly guessing if it will look good back in the States is a major challenge.”


Based on what I’ve seen, I’d say Johnson guesses pretty well. Keith Johnson and Glen Senk’s current New York apartment appeared in Elle Decor in October. In the article Johnson said everything in the apartment was found with the store in mind, but it seems it is a bit more chicken and egg than that, “I am always falling in love with things that end up in the store. I consider everything on a personal level at first. It’s the best way to know if it is truly worth buying. I just had an artist in Provence make a flock of antique fabric covered birds. I am sure when I see them next month I will be buying some for myself. I bought a school of fish a couple of years ago made from motorcycle gas tanks. I love to share my finds.”

While he shares them through the stores he also seems to hang on to things himself. You’ll notice that many of the pieces in the older HG images turn up again in Elle Decor including the lamp and sofa in the image above.

The mask in this image above rests on the base of a gothic cabinet whose shelves housed it in the earlier apartment.

I am in full-on frothy envy over the Alexander Calder curtains that Johnson found at a flea market in Manhattan. I’m a little light-headed just imagining uncovering such a treasure. Surely Johnson is more jaded as this kind of discovery must be quite routine for him. Not at all. “The rush when you find something truly great is still the reason I travel. It’s very addictive.”

This from a guy who met his partner when he was nine years old. He must know a good thing when he sees it.

I am not a fan of most design-related t.v., but this show is intriguing. Man Shops Globe premiers tomorrow at 9 CST on the Sundance Channel.
Top three images House & Garden, March, 2006; photography by James Merrell. Next three images Elle Decor, October, 2009; photography by William Waldron. Johnson and Senk image from Man Shops Globe premier, photograph by Sara Jaye Weiss. Series artwork borrowed from the Sundance Channel.
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Snack Attack

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“We are requesting parents provide snacks for their child(ren) as food allergies have made this a difficult issue for us at school.”

Benign, right? I understand. Between peanut allergies, gluten allergies, childhood diabetes and various aversions it is probably more frustration than any teacher needs to keep track of who can have what between math and gym.

The first day, while fixing breakfast and packing lunches, I packed Goldfish in three Tupperware containers. I know Goldfish are not particularly loaded with nutrients, but I also know the Blandings boys are not going to snack on carrot sticks and edemame. They would starve first. Nearly anything they would choose would be loaded with sugar. It’s a snack, for heaven’s sake. Goldfish would be fine.

“Mrs. Brown says I can’t have Goldfish for a snack.”

“What?” This is the middle boy. The impish one. The one who might be trying to get my goat.

“Mrs. Brown says I cannot have Goldfish for a snack.”

“Why not?”

“They are not healthy.”

I’m not exactly sure that this is Mrs. Brown’s call, but it is the first week of school and I am certainly not going to cause a dust-up over Goldfish.

“What about popcorn?”

“Um. I dunno. Yeah. I think popcorn would be fine.”

The next day, while fixing breakfast and packing lunches, I popped popcorn. I packaged up three snack serving in Tupperware containers. For about a week I heard nothing.

In the meantime the middle came home to say that Mrs. Brown had said the most hilarious thing at school. “She told us that if we didn’t put our stuff away and get in our seats she would cut our hands off with a spoon then throw them out the window.”

“Excuse me?”

“Yeah. It was funny.”

“Mom, she’s kidding,” added the oldest, “She’s not really going to cut their hands off with a spoon.” I was grateful for the clarification. Apparently Hans Christian Anderson and Lemony Snicket were in tune with their target audience.

Then, the next week, “Please provide a snack for your child that does not contain small pieces, like popcorn.” This from the youngest’s teachers.

“Do you think Mrs. White would be ok with Goldfish?”

“Sure.”

So then in the morning, while making the breakfast and packing the lunches I made popcorn, which I placed in Tupperware containers for the oldest two and packed Goldfish in Tupperware for the youngest. Then I waited. Nothing. No reprimand. We were good. Routine at last.

A couple of weeks later, “Mrs. Brown says I cannot bring my popcorn in Tupperware; it needs to be in a Ziploc bag.”

“You’re kidding.”

“No.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, she just said it needs to be in a Ziploc bag.”

“Are you having trouble getting the Tupperware open? Why would she care?”

“No,” indignant as only a child can be who has been accused of not being able to do something so remedial as open Tupperware, “I don’t know why she cares, but she does.”

So then in the morning, while making the breakfast and packing the lunches, I made popcorn for the oldest two, putting one in Tupperware and one in a large Ziploc bag and filled another Tupperware container with Goldfish. I was skeptical about the Ziploc bag. It seemed to me that popcorn in a Ziploc bag that has spent the better part of the day in a back pack would be confetti by snack time. But I was, frankly, weary of both thinking and talking about snacks.

Later that day as we are unpacking back packs, “Mrs. Brown says you need to send my popcorn in a smaller Ziploc bag.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Why do you keep saying that? No, I’m not kidding. Mrs. Brown says you need to send my popcorn in a smaller Ziploc bag.”

“Tell Mrs. Brown that if I get one more set of instructions regarding the snack that I am going to cut her hands off with a spoon and throw them out the window.”

“Really? I can say that?”

“No.”

That night I said to Mr. Blandings, “I can’t believe the amount of push back I’m getting on the flipping school snacks. I am getting more communication on snacks than I am on curriculum.” He was not interested in engaging on the subject.

The next morning, while fixing the breakfasts and packing the lunches, I made popcorn for the oldest two, packing one in Tupperware, one in a smaller Ziploc bag and putting some Goldfish into a Tupperware container. Thank heavens the middle school teachers have more on their minds, like managing raging hormones and ensuring all electronic devises remain stowed throughout journey, than the container of snacks or their contents.

When the boys piled in the car that afternoon I said, “How was school?” And the middle child said, “Good. But Mrs. Brown wants you to call her.” Every muscle in my body tensed. I could feel my blood pressure start to climb. This was beyond ridiculous. “Really, why?”

“She said you need to schedule your time for parent/teacher conferences since you missed curriculum night.”

Oh.

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Posting Pink

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Pink is pretty.

Pink is fresh.


Pink is warm.

Pink is pretty and fresh and warm and so are these wonderful pictures, but breast cancer is none of these things.

Breast cancer is scary. So, enjoy these amazingly beautiful pictures, then visit the links below.

October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month. Talk to your doctor to make sure you are doing all you can to detect breast cancer as early as possible. Early detection greatly increases your chances of surviving breast cancer. While you are at it, forward this to your best friend or wife or sister to make sure she is doing the same. For more information on screening, treatment and donating please contact the National Cancer Institute and the Susan G. Komen Foundation.
All images courtesy of Inspired Interiors by Suzanne Kasler.
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Cecil Beaton Profile

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The days here are as crisp and clear as Granny Smiths and while my body is busy my mind is wandering. I’ve ambled down the path of the Mitford clan and settled in for a nice long visit with Winston Churchill and just when I thought I’d turned the corner and might rejoin the 21st century, I happened upon Cecil Beaton.

Beaton (1904 – 1980) was a creative force in England and the States, primarily known for his photography, but also a set and costume designer, artist and prolific journal writer.

A captivating character, his level of creativity is astounding. Still, while enchanted by his story, I can’t stop looking at the pictures.

And then yesterday on a walk, I began to wonder when the fashion of having your portrait done in profile began to fade.

Mr. Blandings’s aunt, a woman of inestimable taste, has a stunning black and white portrait of herself and her daughter in profile on her dresser.

It’s not a pose most prefer. A view of ourselves with which we are largely unfamiliar. We like to preserve the view that we prepare, the one that we perceive. Full on. Straight ahead. The nose slightly obscured by the energy of the eyes and, in some cases, the halo of hair.

But the world largely sees us from all angles. The jaw weak, the prominent beak, all pieces of a whole that we acknowledge and accept in others but avoid seeing in ourselves.
All images by Cecil Beaton. From top, the photographer’s mother, Sir Laurence Olivier, Lady Diane Cooper, Greta Garbo, all from Cecil Beaton, Memoirs of the ’40s. The photographer’s sisters, Nancy and Baba, and the last image of Beaton himself from The Wandering Years, Diaries: 1922-1939. Second to the last image, Doris Castlerosse from Cecil Beaton, a Biography by Hugo Vickers.
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