Wandering Minds Want to Know

As I push furniture and measure windows, I am thinking about what I want. What I want, which is something entirely different from what readers want or what is best or what is on-trend. As I think it over, or over think it, my mind’s eye is drawn to a couple of things. One, was Thomas Jayne’s new year resolution at Elle Decor, “I resolve to listen to my design instincts. At this point in my experience and education, my first reactions are often the best ones.”

The second was in Albert Hadley’s advice to those who are starting out on Architectural Digest’s web page, “The best rooms have history and meaning: photographs that remind you of someone, furniture that has a story. Whatever you put in your house should be interesting. I may not like it, but that doesn’t make any difference. And decorating is not about dollars and cents; it’s an emotional thing, it’s passion.”

I don’t have Jayne’s education and experience, of course, but I think his resolution and Hadley’s observation go hand in hand. I’m making my home. Mine.

And all this ruminating led me back to the books, as usual. This Los Angeles home in Hancock Park was built in 1938. Almost ’40’s, the decade whose aesthetic seems to be wired into my hard drive. The grounds, the patio, the wrought iron awning, all delightful.

But the dining room ceiling, a modification of the owner, is an update that enchanted me. It’s dramatic and subtle at the same time, reminiscent of plaster ceilings of the past while being clearly modern.
Further, the collage panels in the powder room contain butterflies, the heads of which are photos of family friends. And what struck me, was that these details are so completely personal. Nine people out of ten, perhaps anyone whose picture was not included, would walk by that wall without a second glance. But for the owners it is a treasure trove of sentiment.

Hadley, again, “Decorating has never been superficial. It has always represented the best of times. Now I’m talking about the rich, who have always furnished their houses elaborately. But even a cottage is a castle to the person who lives in it.”

Image, top, from Thomas Jayne; next, a Hadley design via Arch Digest for an on-line interview; the profile in the magazine was by Mitch Owens; all remaining images, Classic Homes of Los Angeles, which I received as a review copy, by Douglas Wells; photography by Melba Levick.

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Cheers!

January’s holiday seems so premature, one and done. No sooner have you popped the cork and it’s over. Maybe that is why Valentine’s Day has always made my heart skip a beat. My first date with my husband was, coincidentally, Valentine’s Day (so cornball.) Still, it’s something to look forward to as the snow creeps in the top of your boots. Have a friend trolling the internet for love? Take

Set that lonely heart up with a

and watch sparks fly. It could be their

though, I do hope you won’t be begging,

if he turns out to be a bounder. Sometimes it’s hard to tell. Still, they may end up

leaving you to exclaim,”
,”as they pull away in a flurry of rose petals (or butterflies or bubbles or whatever it is one pulls away in a flurry of now.) Oh, I do like a happy ending.

Mrs. Blandings
All bottles available through Swanson Vineyards. A very special thanks to Caroline and John who shared their Expensive Christmas Wine with us Christmas Eve. (And, yes, I do know that “Merci” is French for “thank you” and not “mercy.”)
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I Can’t See Clearly Now

I had a friend from my Foundation days whom I did a little work for right after I quit my real job. She is just a little older than I and really, really smart. Really smart. And cool. She has great stuff. In her bathroom, she had this large, lighted, magnifying mirror and it always made me wonder. She’s beautiful, but didn’t strike me as vain, and I could just never see her as a pore-gazer. Only recently have I realized that she wasn’t micro-managing, she was just trying to do things like pluck her eyebrows, which is incredibly difficult wearing glasses. I know.
So, I have been sort of looking for a stylish mirror to help with these trivial tasks and I turned to stylish, jazzy product guru, Thomas O’Brien. Beyond product (and there is a lot of product) there is really nice information about how he goes about his craft. I think process is as interesting as results and there is plenty percolating at Aero.

You know what would be better still? Hearing O’Brien speak in Los Angeles, January 21st at the California Gift Show in the L.A. Mart. Yep, that’s what I would do. 11 to noon with book signing to follow. More info here. (I promise you will enjoy it; I loved hearing him in Chicago and a little bird has told me that this may be his last engagement for awhile though I have begged and begged for a Kansas City stop.)

All images via Aero Studios.
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Snow Day

I knew that using the sun room as my office was complete and total genius. I revel in these really good ideas when I have them as they are so few and far between. This, this, was the day I was waiting for. On three walls, encompassing my entire peripheral vision, are windows. It is as if I am in a snow globe; I could not be happier.

It is a large room and the floor is slate tile. Good for dog feet, bad for human feet. In a fortunate twist of fate, the antelope carpet from the old house can be reconfigured for this room. The former office was just a smidge longer and a good bit narrower, but I had saved the remnant and as the room was dark there was no difference in the color. There will be a hopefully not unseemly seam.

The lantern from the front hall of the old house will replace ceiling fan 1. Using skills gleaned from long-abandoned parenting books I have convinced Mr. Blandings, through positive reinforcement, that he will be able to switch them out. “You absolutely can do it! I will help. I swear.” He knows, of course, that this means I will stand by and say things like, “Oh! Careful! You’re going to gouge the ceiling!”
In addition, Cowtan and Tout Papillon Jardin will live in this house somewhere. I know, who knew I’d need the pinky, floral girliness for my own? But I do.

And this is the casualty of the day. Today I was going to start painting an old armoire inspired by this wonderful cabinet. Black paint. Gold leaf. Project heaven. Maybe tomorrow. Today I sit in the middle of what looks like a 1940’s MGM movie set, happy as a midwestern clam.
The image, second, is Todd Romano via the Peak of Chic; the floral chair is an old Cowtan and Tout ad; image, last, is John Dransfield and Geoffrey Ross’s home featured in Elle Decor, July/August 2010; photography by Simon Upton.
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Flannel and Forgetfulness

I think I may have caught through the keyboard what Meg and Maxminimus had. Some kind of creepy bug that I’d thought I’d weathered the worst of when, yesterday, I found myself forgetting to offer a visiting friend food or drink. An additional warning sign should have been my willingness (enthusiasm, really) to wear my slippers to afternoon carpool. A regretful decision when I realized I needed to go to Office Max for the long-and-oft-promised replacement lunch box. Still, in that neighborhood, I don’t think anyone noticed.


An exchange that I had had with Courtney Barnes at Style Court about white walls sort of bounced around in my foggy head all day.

She mentioned Michael Bastian’s apartment which, she noted, has “flair to spare,” and I had to agree with its unpedigreed chic.

So as I guzzled the cough medicine that Mr. Blandings picked up “for me” (after mentioning the productivity of my cough while he knows that I hate any conversation concerning bodily function of any kind) I tucked myself in knowing that White Walls and I can make a go of it. “There is a place for us!” I declared as the waves crashed against the rocks. Or maybe that was just the ringing in my ears.
All images Domino, September, 2008; photography Melanie Acevedo.
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