As all married people do, Mr. Blandings and I have a short hand. “Dude,” is one, but we have another that comes up fairly often. There are people, well-known people, with whom I become convinced that I would be friends if only our paths were to cross. The first time I described this I said, “If we sat next to each other on a plane I think we would be friends,” and that is the measure, now, to describe my connection to someone. Someone famous or at least famous-y.

One of the things that intrigues me about movies is the process. I checked in with Mark Ricker, who was the Production Designer on Julie & Julia, and he explained how the sets evolved. “(The Production Designer) is one of the first people hired once a film gets the green light. Typically the relationship with the director grows out of conversation, research, shared ideas, art, references, etc. Nora is very involved. (She) is very good at knowing spacial relationships, camera angles in her head and other devices.”

I asked Mark if he ever develops a crush on something they have gathered for a set. Let’s face it, he’s a designer. “Production Design,” says Mark, “is a combination of the best of visual fields: Architecture, Interior Design & Decorative Arts, History, Film making, Storytelling, Photography, Landscape Design, Travel..” As for the crushes? “It always happens. Shopping for the set dressing on a film is a combination of buying with characters in mind, but through the filter of personal taste. It is inevitable that certain pieces become fodder for crushes, and I always end up with a trinket or two.”

Last weekend we had a couple over for dinner and as my friend was coming in she pressed a bag into my hand. “I think you’ll like this. I wonder if you have seen it. Hitchcock. The film is great, but I think you will get a kick out of the set decoration.”

I assumed I had seen it, but I was thrilled at the gesture. This is the kind of hostess gift that could inspire a dinner party all on its own. But after the guests were gone and the dishes were rinsed (I only rinse at night; the washing comes the next day) I opened the bag – I love presents – and was delighted to find Dial M for Murder.

I hadn’t seen it and neither had Mr. Blandings, so we popped it in the DVD player the following night. Hitchcock is such a delight. He was a thinking man’s director as you have to pay attention and the nuances of his films are so engaging. Like a skilled dance partner, he leads you through the story but does not feel the need to push or drag.

The film takes place in the London flat of Margot and Tony Wendice played by Grace Kelly and Ray Millard. The set is heaven. An Anglophile’s dream. The walls and trim are a creamy yellow or a yellowy cream depending on how you choose to describe it. The woodwork is detailed and lovely. Chinese ceramics add interest in lamps and objets.

No surprise I adored the chintz sofa with the contrasting red welt. Oh my. And the linen velvet armchair might be reason alone to off your spouse if you thought it might end up it the possession of a lover.
Hitchcock was so conscious of detail. Kelly wore bright colors at the beginning of the film at his direction; her wardrobe transitioned to progressively more somber tones as the story unfolds.
The curtains and shutters play a major role in the plot and are beautifully crafted under the skillful eye of set decorator George James Hopkins. Hopkins had an impressive career. He was set decorator for sixty-six movies including Casablanca, Auntie Mame, My Fair Lady, Wait Until Dark and Hello, Dolly!

So my friend was right and I adored the movie and the sets. I hope they will come back and not just because they bring charming gifts. The dinner went well as we had a fun crew and the food was fabulous as Mr. Blandings cooked. Mr. Blandings always cooks. We are trying to avoid the sort of review Tony tosses to Margot, “I’m so glad we don’t have to go…; she’s such a filthy cook.”

Images courtesy of Grace Kelly Online.

Lantern by Charles Edwards.

The entry is the only room on street level, a classic dream of black and white marble floors. Climbing the staircase with the iron railing you can’t help notice the fantastic lantern over-head. Entering the main floor of the townhouse, you are greeted with ebony-stained wood floors, a subtle Empire vignette in the hallway. Zebra rug, leather sofas, big, bold black and white painting over the fireplace.

Miles Redd via Patricia Grey – she has done a fabulous week of zebra.

Billy Baldwin via Patricia Grey, by way of Style Court.

Outside is a terrace that would make Dorothy Draper swoon. Trellis and iron, striped canopies; perfection.

The butler’s pantry is two long walls of ivory lacquered cabinets trimmed in black.

Two walls of cabinets like the box, top. Unbelievable. Boxes, West Elm.

Just to the right is the entry to the master, the doors of which could be by Fornasetti himself.

Screen image courtesy of Fornesetti.com.
If you think bathrooms today are loaded with innovation, you will realize how little progress has been made when you see the bath. Travertine floor and ceiling, sliding doors encasing the sunken marble tub/shower with temperature control and multiple jets.

The bed itself is some kind of brass extravaganza. A mis-step in my book, but when a thing like this show up in a spot like this it makes me question my own taste and not the tastemaker’s. Barcelona chair in the most amazing buttery-camel leather and the most hilarious rickety TV stand and TV that will remind you of your grandmother’s. Pickings must have been slim in this area.

The butler’s room is quintessential English “man” room. Simple, classic, phone by the bed to be on the ever-ready.

OK, he’s a cartoonist, remember? The third floor is his studio. Two levels with soaring vaulted ceilings.

The movie itself is a delight if you like old screwball comedies. Verna Lisi plays the wife in question. The only issue Mr. Blandings had with the plot is why Jack Lemmon wants to get rid of her; she’s gorgeous, wants to fool around all the time, is an amazing cook and speaks no English. “So she’s the perfect wife?” I coyly asked. “No, darling, I have the perfect wife.” I can’t wait for the next fifteen years.