Climbing the Walls

May 25, 2011UncategorizedMrs. B at Home, ProductMrs. Blandings

You can’t, you know, decorate in isolation. This room this and that room that. So as I piece together the living room and plan the dining room, the downstairs hall and family room must be considered. The image, top, in the May issue of House Beautiful, caused one of the tumblers to fall into place offering up the answer for the hall. “Trellis. Of course.”

Then, while visiting the Kips Bay Showhouse, I lingered long in this room. Captivated by the paper, delighted by the furniture. When my dining partner said, “What was your favorite room?” I replied, “Those mirrors!”

A classic room with unnoticeably unconventional choices, I adored Richard Mishaan’s use of Philip Jeffries embroidered grass cloth for the walls. Trellis.

Which reminded me of Little Augury’s project. Trellis. With an edge.

Then, while pulling out Influential Interiors to see if it was right for a friend, I was reminded of this image using Colefax Trellis.

And then this. But my first leg of the hunt (on-line or in the showroom) has not been a success. (Try searching “trellis wallpaper:” A bazillion images of Imperial Trellis pop up.) By this time I was planning on two or three samples taped to the hall wall. Nada.

I could paint it. But then there’s the math. You know I hate math.

Images from top, House Beautiful, May, 2011, design by Meg Braff; photography Thibault Jeanson. Paper, Sea Island Trellis by Brunschwig & Fils; New York Times, design by Richard Mishaan, photography Trevor Tondro. Paper, Philip Jeffries; via Little Augury; Influential Interiors; photography James Merrell; Farrow and Ball: The Art of Color; photography, Edward Addeo.

Evolution of a Living Room – Version 2.0

May 24, 2011UncategorizedMrs. B at HomeMrs. Blandings

I abandoned the strie. The choice was repaint the entire room white then glaze or just paint the solid color throughout. I painted a solid coat with the glaze, so this is three coats of 1:1 Slipper Satin and glaze.

I tried these chairs flanking the sofa, but the room nearly tipped. Their scale is a little large – 10-20% too big I’d say – no matter where they are, but they are great for reading the paper on Sunday. The painting was my mother’s and I love it, but Mr. B thinks it is “spooky.” It’s place holding. Maybe for this.

I tossed that needlepoint pillow, above, onto one of the chairs and realized I have a completed canvas at the Studio just waiting for fabric to back it. I think I’ll reconstruct the tulip as well and leave them here.
These chairs need recovering badly so I will soon begin the hunt for fabric. Expect slips for the Biedermeier chairs as well. And pillows for the sofa. Sakes.

Rather than focusing on what is not, let’s instead enjoy what is. Slipper Satin has taken the edge off of the walls while still leaving a sense of “white.” (Which is what Mr. Blandings would tell you it is anyway.)

So, now, go ahead, twist my arm – make me look at fabric. Shucks, I guess I will.

Evolution of a Living Room – Versions 1 – 1.1

May 23, 2011UncategorizedMrs. B at Home, Mrs. B DIYMrs. Blandings

This is our living room as it was when we first moved in. We can call this Version 1. See? Same old stuff, new space.

Slightly tweaked. The sisal rug is going. The old rug that is currently atop will shift over to live under the yellow chairs, which will hopefully not be yellow. An as-yet-undiscovered rug will live under the other group leaving more of the floor to show. Also, I picked up a pair of Paul McCobb tables that replaced the one that I made. (He is not abandoned, but residing in Mr. B’s study.)

The white was beginning to feel less fresh and more Mastercraft apartment. (Many of you will be scratching your heads, but if you lived in Lawrence, Kansas in the late 80’s you will have a vivid mental image.) I sought the counsel of a few friends and, with their thoughtful guidance, settled on paint. (I am respectfully allowing them to remain anonymous so as not to be inundated with requests for help. Mine are annoying enough.)

The plan was Farrow & Ball Borrowed Light on the ceiling and a strie of Slipper Satin on the walls. Borrowed Light is a home run in every way. I adore it. I could write poems about it. I dream of it in my sleep and spring from my bed in the morning so I can see it. The strie was tricky. (The swatch image is accurate; these are not.) I couldn’t figure out why I couldn’t figure it out.

I tried varying combinations of paint and glaze, hunted for different glazes and brushes, all with little success. It was time-consuming and annoying. One evening my middle son, who is not overly interested in aesthetic endeavors but has a good eye and a strong opinion, cruised through the room. I paused, brush in hand and asked, “Whaddya think?” He glanced and offered, “I like the color.”

The concise clarity of this statement was all I needed. Like design, his communication often takes place in the negative space. The message was clear: abandon the strie – though he would not have known to call it that. Within ten minutes I was to a spot on the wall that had been painted with Ben Moore and not Sherwin Williams and I realized the entire problem was with the existing “base” coat. Bother.

Part 2, the resolution, tomorrow. (What? You think I’m Joni and I’m going to lay the whole thing out in one post? No way. I’m milking it. And I think I used “lay” correctly.)

ADing On

May 19, 2011UncategorizedOn AssignmentMrs. Blandings

Please forgive my spotty posts. I’ve been painting my living room and for a short time I thought it had gotten the best of me. Also, I’m stepping out on you just the littlest bit. Every now and then, a few times a month for as long as they will have me, I’m going to be writing the same sort of stuff that I write here over at archdigest.com. It’s been in the works for a while, but as editor Margaret Russell said at Blog Fest yesterday, random is not in her vocabulary. Anyway, I think we have things hammered out, though I am sure they will evolve. Expect the same sort of stuff around here, with the occasional link over there.

Image courtesy of Architectural Digest; photography Roger Davies.

Anonymous, I, pod, and ipad

May 17, 2011UncategorizedMusings from the Dream HouseMrs. Blandings

A while back I wrote a post about taking books on vacation and implied, with a somewhat superior tone, that reading books in paper form was better than reading books electronically. An anonymous reader responded:

“Meh–sort of a silly distinction. The thing worth being snooty about is whether someone reads or not, and what.

If someone reads Portrait of a Lady, I’m going to be impressed. i don’t care whether it was on paper, a Kindle, or written in wet sand with a stick.”

I really like my ipad. I can’t say I love it, because if it went away I would be over it in about 48 hours, but I really like it. It’s handy. But, at the time of the original paper/pad post, I hadn’t read a book on it. So I did. In fact, I’ve read two. I’ve read Game Change and Bossypants. My original sense of what I would want to read electronically held up. There are some books that I a) want to read, b) don’t want to keep, and c) don’t want to wait for a the library.

There are some annoyances. I have the original ipad and, and I know this seems unlikely, it’s heavy. It’s heavy like War and Peace even when you’re reading Bossypants. Also, you basically have to sit up. Not lean to or lie* on one side, because the text stays upright. (Maybe there is a way to correct this that I don’t know.) I did read on it outside and the sunlight/glare thing did not affect me.

At the same time I was reading Game Change I was reading A Passage to India. You will find my copy still on my bedside table with a couple of pages turned down. (I don’t underline as I have a silly schoolgirl aversion to writing in books.) And, I will go back to these a couple of times before I put it on a shelf. You can highlight passages in the ipad, but I feel quite sure that I will never look at them again.

While reading Bossypants, Tina Fey mentions David Foster Wallace, and this is maybe the fifteenth time the universe has presented me with this author, whom I think I want to read. It was incredibly easy on the ipad to click over and preview his books, read reviews and buy. Still, I didn’t. I had a feeling that I would want to maybe turn down a page or two. Put it on the shelf. Paper isn’t necessarily better, but for me, it’s different.

And, by the way, reading Portrait of a Lady in any form isn’t all that impressive to me. Mill on the Floss? The Tin Drum? Yeah, those you can be snooty about.

*I have to look up the lie/lay thing every single time. For whatever reason, my brain does not retain number facts in any form or this rule of usage.