Tag Archives: Product

American Modern

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One of the biggest treats while in New York was being able to stop in and visit Thomas O’Brien at Aero, his studio in Soho.  He devoted an amazing amount of time to this near-stalker/blogger, giving me a tour of the shop and his design studio.

The shop is a wonderful jumble of vintage and antique pieces with O’Brien’s own designs seemlessly mixed in.  He is a collector.  Personally, and in the store. You can see his hand in everything.

When we sat down to visit I asked him why he thought he had been named as a designer who will “last” in my Enduring Style series.  “Huh.  I don’t know,” was his reply and then he went on to discuss his design process in everything from product to interiors to his book.

O’Brien wears his soul on his sleeve and his is not the manic creative energy that you might expect from someone who is executing this inspiring amount of work.  He is exacting and passionate, but in a very low-key way.  He talked a great deal about process and inspiration; he spoke not at all of himself nor did he ever mention the word “brand” though I am sure he is quite aware of this buzz word and its significance.

O’Brien had a copy of his new book, American Modern, there for me to flip through while we talked.  It is a beautiful book featuring some favorite projects, but also homes that have not been published.  As Dick Diver, O’Brien is a man with repose.  His gaze is steady and his hands are still even when he speaks intently about the need to be inspired.  Even though many of us are struggling he notes, “The great buildings still need to be built.”

Thomas O’Brien has new lamps for Visual Comfort that should be hitting retail locations by Spring.  His new collection for Target is rolling into stores now, including some very chic bedding.  He has several new pieces for Hickory Chair that will debut at Highpoint and be in stores by late Summer/early Fall.

You can pre-order his book, American Modern, here.  You should.  It’s terrific.

I received no compensation for this post other than the complete delight of the experience.  All images courtesy of Thomas O’Brien and Aero.

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Home Again, Home Again

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I was in New York from Thursday until Saturday.  Short but sweet.  And cold.

I normally stay with my big-city friend but decided to go out on my own this time.  Be a grown-up.  I stayed in a hotel.  I stayed in a pod room, the thought of which concerned Mr. Blandings, but I assured him that there was a double bed and a private bath.
As we lay in bed the night before I left he said, “Be careful.”  “Of what?” I wondered.  What does he fear for me there that is any different than the mishaps and tragedies that pop up around here?  But I said, “I will,” instead so that he could sleep.
I caught up with several friends and stayed out too late and had so much fun.  The only real surprise was how often people asked me, “So why are you here?”  
As if one were to need a reason other than to celebrate a victory, catch up with a friend over pomme frites and devour a homemade meat loaf amid conversation that sparkled like my dinner partner’s jewels.
I needed nothing more.  Except, perhaps a memo sample or two.  We have wonderful designer showrooms here in Kansas City and I have access to almost every line a girl could need.
But not Quadrille.
I’ve tweaked my dining room.  I discovered, with the help of a friend, that I was trying to make it something that it was not.  It was reaching above its station; holding itself apart from the rest of the house.  But with a little therapy we both realized, the dining room and I, that it is not a grand salon, but a room with a table that hosts our friends but also our school projects and my crafting and it needed to, well, relax.
I had brought home Clarence House’s Flowering Quince and tucked her behind the ropes in my double hung windows.  She is nearly perfect, but her price tag is as magnificent as her design and with yardage and labor…it was not meant to be.
So I made my way on my first day in New York to the D & D building to see what Quadrille might have for the Dream House.  There are now several samples scattered across my dining table, which was reason enough to have gone.  But there is more, of course.  Who did I see as I marveled at Roy Hamilton’s vases in the Brunschwig & Fils showroom?  Chatting and wandering and delighting everyone working there?  Mario Buatta.  By himself.  No fuss, no drama, no assistants, just a fist full of memos.  I texted Megan giddy as a school girl.  
Why was I there?  For design junkies like me, there can be no better place.
All images via the Quadrille website, other than the bottom two, which are mine. 
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Swing Shift

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Henry Wilson, of yesterday’s post and the wonderful walls, has a day job; he’s an interiors photographer.

And then at night, sometimes until three in the morning he cuts stencils and paints.

“All my wallpapers here have been stencilled on the kitchen table with my own hand. I have petit-pointed the cushions, acid washed the windows and patterned the roman blinds – and everything has been informed and inspired by my intense bond with what I have seen in India.”

While his mother had worried that all this energy wasn’t exactly lucrative (mothers are that way) a little commercial venture came along.

Wilson designed a collection of wallpaper for Osborne & Little that was released last year. You can find the complete Sariskar collection here.

This last pattern is in honor of Penelope, who comforted me about the loss of my faucet with tales of product lost and images of her peafowl. It worked.
Images of Wilson’s photographs of his home appeared in World of Interiors, December, 2009. Last three images via Osborne & Little.
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A Carnival for the Eyes

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“What’s the matter?” “Oh, nothing, really, I just can’t find the picture of those snake sconces. I feel like I just saw them. Somewhere. Didn’t I show it to you?”

“Yes, but it wasn’t in those books; it was upstairs.” No, no it wasn’t, but I didn’t want to say that, so I just didn’t lift my eyes from the book and mumbled a reply. But Mr. Blandings was right. It was upstairs and I am publishing his triumph on the internet as he said, “I hate to be so excited, but I’m not right very often.”

This is the home, and the snake sconces, of Henry Wilson. Henry Wilson is quite an ordinary name for a quite extraordinary man. Wilson, who lives in London, is a photographer and artist who has a great love of India. Before I was on my snake hunt, the needlepoint pillows in this room captured my heart. Wilson designed and stitched them. Petit point. I can see five on the sofas and if you stitch you know what an incredible amount of time and care has been spent here. (If you click on the images, you can see them bigger.)

Ah. And he has stenciled the walls as well. In nearly every room are fantastic designs.

For fun, you know. Because he likes it.

I’ve been kicking around the idea of re-doing my tiny powder room again. Wilson’s is dreamy with its silver leaf walls and stenciling. That he did himself. Really, if I hadn’t found my soul mate, music would be swelling.

“Having stepped over the threshold of my small Victorian terraced house in Chelsea [my editor] summed up my surroundings fairly swiftly: ‘obsessive’. For once in my all-too-slow-witted life, I came back in a flash: ‘No, Rupert – focused.’ But, of course, I know it is obsessive. I’d go further: it’s compulsive and without an iota of intellect – it’s instinctive.”
Oh, Mr. Wilson, I would like to meet you.
All images World of Interiors, December 2009; photography by Henry Wilson. The title of the post is taken from the text and describes how Mr. Wilson sees India.
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