Tag Archives: Designers

George

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Some of you know that I used to work at a charming antique store in Crestwood.  While I loved the furniture and the zen-like quality of the setting, the real draw was being in proximity to its owner, George Terbovich.

George owned another store right up the row where he carried all sorts of wonderful stuff and worked his design magic in the back.

In a bit of clever reconfiguring, he’s moved the design studio around the corner and expanded the original shop to accommodate more wonderful stuff and the antiques.  The result is certainly one of Kansas City’s top retail destinations.
The shop is a visual delight.

George and his manager, Connie Beall, have gathered a treasure trove of unique objects, not one of which is a misstep.

And as someone who feels that good design is essential to good living, these things might not be essential, but neither are they superfluous.

They have subtitled the shop, “a lifestyle store” and this is surely the case.  If it’s not my lifestyle (there are no Legos or Star Wars figures in sight) it is a lifestyle to which I would aspire.

Wonderful, original textiles.


Beautiful pottery new and old.

And, look, we have something in common.

George has a little crow thing going here.

I knew it wasn’t weird to like crows.

As I’d love to have a library table like this, piled with books of a variety of interests, I’m relieved I can enhance my collection from their collection.

George’s aesthetic is clean and pure and never overdone.  He hobnobs with fancies and could spend his days jetting around and name-dropping about it, but will more likely tell you about his last weekend in the country and the small snake he saw while weeding.

When I worked for him, I’d live for days on his brief history lessons about the furniture as he would stop in to see how things were going.

He and Connie have expanded the offerings of apparel and handbags.  No names.  No labels.  Not George’s style.

It’s worth it to take the time to try something on.

Because then you have a chance to pop into the sunny changing rooms.

And admire these absolutely perfect curtains.  

Tick here to read an interview with George that outlines his philosophy much better than I.  Then pop in and take a look for yourself.  Enhance your lifestyle.  Start today.

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Equal Rights

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Some folks thought my post yesterday was a bit of a boys’ club.  Rightly so, and I must say, oddly, I seem to gravitate to male designers.  That said, there are certainly some amazingly talented women that should be on the ballot.


Rose Tarlow, who does an incredible job of seeing the big picture and focusing on the details.

She could calm any storm.

Not a new-comer to the Blandings’s scene, Mariette Himes Gomez is always a party favorite.

She can certainly bring some unity to the house while each element speaks loud and clear.

And then I waffled.  I adore Bunny Williams and Victoria Hagan.

But decided we needed a breath of fresh air.

Sheila Bridges, with her colorful stance, might be just the woman we need.

I’m anxious for a little closure, in fact, I’m counting down the days.
Top three images, The Private House, Rose Tarlow; middle three Mariette Himes Gomez courtesy of her site and the final three Sheila Bridges from her site.
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The American Issue

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Let’s pretend for a moment that the biggest American Issue before us at the beginning of November was which designers World of Interiors chose to represent the colonies.

Would you vote for the elusive Mr. Gambrel?  

I’m always interested in his views.

His perspective is always clear, straight-forward and thought provoking.  No muddy waters here.
Darryl Carter?  A self made man – in the world of design, anyway.

He has no trouble communicating his message.

Mr. Smith would do a lovely job representing us and he is equally strong in domestic and foreign policy.

What do you think?

Who would you define as the quintessential American designer working today?
Photos, top three courtesy of S. R. Gambrel, middle two via Point Click Home, originally published May, 2008 Met Home, and bottom three from Michael Smith.
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I’m Stuffed

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My big city friend emailed a couple of weeks ago and said, “You must address the taxidermy issue; it’s the elephant in the room.”  or something like that.  I was trying to keep away from all issues political, but this one has been bouncing around in my head and today I had to put it to rest.


My thought was to find examples of taxidermy used well.  I have to come clean here.  You know that Mr. Blandings is a hunter and in his first home there was a good little bit of stuffed stuff.  Fowl.  It does not remain.  But as I began to hunt myself, I couldn’t bag a beast.  The above images from The Well-Lived Life were the closest I could find.  And, frankly, without the head attached Issac’s rug was a stretch and the fantasy room by set designer Marla Weinhoff was, well, as crazy as the inspiration, but fake.  So I packed it in; tasteful taxidermy was a wash.

But Courtney’s post on Sister Parish sent me back to Albert Hadley: The Story of America’s Preeminent Interior Designer today to catch up.  Imagine my surprise to find a forgotten image of Wilbur Pippin, cat in hand, in the opening chapters.

And another, at Hadley’s country house on the Hudson River.  I’ve looked as closely as I can and this one could be carved, but the antlers look very real.  Could be skin.


Moving in for the kill, I settled in on the floor beside the design books and began a more focused quest.  If Hadley had a head or two, maybe Van Day Truex did, too.  Alas, only one, and faux, but a classic image all the same and as I hadn’t hit my limit, in it went.

Vogue Living: Houses, Gardens, People was the granddaddy of them all.  Giancarlo Giammetti’s Paris apartment contained a Francois-Xavier Lalanne alligator chair, which is sculpture, but spectacular.

Samantha and Aby Rosen’s New York apartment was a treasure trove of natural selection.  146 million year old pliosaur skeleton, skunk and crocodile cushions, moose antler, dear antlers and some sort of trophy, perhaps antelope?

Always trying to make a Mitford connection, Stella Tennant and David Lasnet’s Berwickshire library has a charming little bird on the mantle.  (Tennant’s grandmother, Deborah is a Mitford sister.)

Emma and Timmy Hanbury’s son, David, has a polar bear rug in his country bedroom.  David Hanbury was only sixteen at the time of the shoot; some might say he was too young and they should have let him go unharmed.  
You can make your own call on taxidermy in design – chic or aw shucks.  Mr. Blandings did not put up a fuss when his menagerie did not move to the Dream House.  Now if I can keep him from bagging a trophy wife I’ll be in luck.

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I Have Flair

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One of the hiccups of my hunters and gatherers column for Spaces is that I end up buying things on my travels.  I’m fudging a bit.  I’d be buying things anyway, I just seem to run across an awful lot of good stuff to want.

Yesterday, in the interest of research, I asked a very nice man to take a very intriguing book down from a very high shelf.  Which he did.  Nicely.  Because that is how people are when they love books and they can tell that you love books, too.

I’d read a bit about Flair and it’s editor Fleur Cowles.  (It needs to be noted, that from the beginning, if your name is Fleur you are going to interesting and likely have, well, flair.)

I had not seen a issue of the magazine that existed for just one year – 1950 – 1951, nor any of Cowles’s books.  But yesterday, high, high, high upon the shelf at Spivey’s, I spotted not one, but two Flair, Annual 1953.

Once the accommodating gentleman had retrieved both ladder and book I began to carefully turn its pages.  There was a low roar in my ears and I’m sure I was a bit flushed.  What makes other people feel this way?  This was something so special.  Articles and illustrations and cut-outs and inserts.

Ok, not a cure for cancer.  Not an answer to the current economic woes.  But a very distinct voice.  “Oh,” I told the nice man, “oh, I think I need this.”  Of course he understood.

While googling, still hunting and gathering, I found a bit about Cowles and her time at Look and how she made Flair a landmark publication.

But the other thing I found (here it comes, the sort-of Kansas City connection) is that she worked for the Truman administration as a sort of media consultant on the Famine Emergency Committee.

Her task was to create publicity to help inform and mobilize American citizens to support international famine relief.  

The idea being, if Americans could cut down on cereal products by 50% on a mass scale more grains could be exported to alleviate hunger in Europe.  The victory garden was born.  Fill up on veggies, cut back on Kellogg’s.

This incredibly talented woman applied her gifts to support a much larger cause.  Which I admire.


“Straw-haired, sleekly groomed Fleur Cowles doesn’t own a hat, usually wears tailored suits, a rose, and black horn-rimmed glasses, is never without a huge (1 in.) Russian emerald ring (“It’s my trademark, it’s me, it’s Fleur — rough, uncut, vigorous”). Says she: “I’ve worked hard, and I’ve made a fortune, and I did it in a man’s world, but always, ruthlessly, and with a kind of cruel insistence, I have tried to keep feminine.” For a sampling of Fleur’s insistent femininity, readers could look to Flair.”  Time, September 12, 1949.


How could I not?
For another inspiring story of a woman using her many gifts to bring attention to an international crisis, please check  My Marrakesh.  Maryam, a human rights and democracy specialist living in Marrakesh, usually writes witty prose and shows us fabulous images of buildings and rugs and all the jewel-colored goods of her adopted home. She recently visited Rwanda and her tale is gripping and disturbing.  Please take the time to read it. 
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