Tag Archives: Vintage Design

Shelf Life

Jennifer Boles at the Peak of Chic recently posted about how fresh Albert Hadley’s work is.  Even ten years after his apartment was published in Elle Decor it appears current.  Timeless.
As I have been having a fantasy love affair with “Trixie” – the Red/Black on Off-White has been on my desk for months – I have noticed Hadley’s wallpapers popping up hear and there.
Here is Trixie in chic black and grey in Kate Rheinstein Brodsky’s New York kitchen. 

Splatter in Eddie Ross’s window at Bloomingdale’s.

Reddish Rose in Elizabeth Mayhew’s daughter’s bedroom.

And local designer, Ann Egan’s, kitchen in the December/January issue of Spaces.

Christopher Spitzmiller has a stylish lamp named “Hadley,” and while I love it in this matte finish

I can’t help wondering what it would like like with the “Miro” pattern applied tone-on-tone

by Roy Hamilton.

Images from top, Elle Decor, February 2000, photography by Fernando Bengoechea, via the Peak of Chic, Hadley’s Connecticut home from Albert Hadley, The Story of America’s Preeminent Interior Designer by Adam Lewis, photography by Fernando Bengoechea; Brodsky’s apartment, Elle Decor, March 2010, photography by William Waldron; Bloomingdale’s window via Eddie Ross; Egan’s kitchen, Spaces, December/January 2009/10, photography by Aaron Leimkuehler; Hadley lamps from Christopher Spitzmiller; last image, my own.

rssrss      FacebooktwitterpinterestlinkedinmailFacebooktwitterpinterestlinkedinmail

Gibby Shelter

Driving home from school yesterday the eldest Blandings boy said somewhat out of the blue, “I’m thinking since I like math I will either be an architect or an engineer.”  Architect, hooray, engineer, hmmm.

The middle responded, “I thought you were going to be a movie critic.”  “Oh, yeah, I’m going to be a movie critic at night.”  I chimed in, “I could be wrong on this, but I think movie critics have some kind of training.  A degree.  Work experience.  Something.  You can’t just be a movie critic.”

The middle, again, “I’m going to be one of those guys on cooking shows who says if stuff is good or not.”  “What?”  “Yeah, you don’t have to go to college for that.”  He doesn’t want to go to college, you see, as word has leaked that you have to leave home to do so.  “Actually, a lot of those guys, most, have been to culinary school.  Which would be awesome.”

“Then I’m going to go to culinary school for just one day and learn to make really excellent cookies.  Then I can be the cookie judge.”

“I,” declared the youngest looking out the window resolutely, “am going to be a night watchman.  At the Nelson.”

Really, who am I to judge?  I went to school to learn to boss people around behind the scenes of television new shows and have spent the last thirteen years honing my skills at crocodile stuffing and macaw manufacturing.  I have seen enough school productions to qualify for critical review, though I generally share these insights only with friends in the parking lot.

Some of us get side-tracked.  Take T. H. Robsjohn-Gibbings.  He went to architectural school and wound up hawking knock-off chairs uptown.  Oh, and he was also a critic.

All images of Robsjohn-Gibbings’s designs from House & Garden, June, 1991; photography not credited.

rssrss      FacebooktwitterpinterestlinkedinmailFacebooktwitterpinterestlinkedinmail

Seasonal Appeal

This may be a meandering mess as my head is clogged, and my ears are ringing just a little bit, but I am not sick enough to go to bed with no guilt.

One of my fellow travelers last week was showing me the catalogue for a charming publisher and I realized at once that the universe was hitting me over the head as this was the second time it had presented me with this jewel.  Today, as I was clearing my desk of tissue and tea cups, my hands fell upon a page ripped from a current magazine and I had to admit that my cotton-headedness has nothing to do with my cold.

Persephone Books is a British publisher specializing in books by women that had previously been out of print.  “Middlebrow” as they describe it.  Well written, good stories, though probably not “literature.”  The covers are the chicest dove grey.  And then there are the end papers.

This is from the book at the top of my list, The Home-Maker by Dorothy Canfield Fisher.  The end papers are described as follows, “The design of this Warner silk, velvet and terry material, exported to the USA during the early 1920s, was derived from a French fabric based on medieval tapestries: two birds are facing each other and away from each other – as in marriage, they are both coupled and confrontational.”  These are the type of people you want to support, aren’t they?  Rather than the large on-line retailers who make you feel your books fall with a flat, hard “thunk” when they hit your shopping cart.

Not the type of girl to choose a book on end papers alone, still Good Things in England by Florence White caught my eye for just that.  (Intrigued by the name I lost interest when I realized it is about cooking.)  These end papers are based on a fabric designed by Duncan Grant.

Duncan Grant of Bloomsbury fame.  Coincidentally, I’ve just begun a reading run on the Bloomsberries since my book club chose Mrs. Woolf and the Servants by Alison Light.  I’ve finished Bloomsbury Recalled by Quentin Bell, which gives a nice overview of the cast of characters, and have just begun Virginia Woolf, a Biography, also by Bell.

After admiring the end paper I went on a hunt to see if the fabrics are still in production.  Charleston was something of a country outpost for the group and the home’s site has a nice selection of original fabrics from the house under the heading, “Learning.”  Indeed.

What little I knew of Bloomsbury did not seem to fit these designs, though I couldn’t tell you exactly why.  Probably because of what little I knew.

Charleston does offer reprints on some of Grant’s original designs.

Including “Grapes,” which may make me like gray.  Which would be a good thing as it has been the theme of January and February around here.

No persuasion necessary to like the glimpses of the house that the site provides.

And this detail of Grant’s door, a photograph by Tony Tree, makes me want to head off round the house with my paint brush immediately.

Immediately after this cold has gone.  For daily-ish updates from Persephone Books check their blog here.

Top three images via Persephone Books, the remainder from the Charleston website.

rssrss      FacebooktwitterpinterestlinkedinmailFacebooktwitterpinterestlinkedinmail

Snow Day 1 of 3

The boys went back to school on Tuesday then were home yesterday for inclement weather. The snow did not start in earnest until afternoon, but the temperatures were (and are) in the single digits. Frankly, I’d rather be inside anyway. And likely will be for the next two days. Say hello to school in June.

We did go to the Nelson-Atkins in the morning and sort of kicked around. The youngest Blandings had made a poor choice for breakfast and was “starving” but has somewhere gotten the idea that one has to whisper in the museum, so with the large rooms and high ceilings it was hard to hear the complaining.

When we arrived home, peeling off coats and hats and gloves, my eldest asked me why I don’t like to play Wii with them and I said, “You know, I don’t really like to mess around with electronics.” He responded with a bug-eyed double take.

It’s true that toward the end of Christmas break I was clicking around on the computer every now and again. I forget about things for a while then they occur to me and I will go on an interested but half-hearted quest.

One day started with a quick look for sconces to flank the portrait of Mr. Blandings, Jr., then morphed into a peek into painted French dining chairs and landed squarely with a perusal of Gio Ponti.

I blame Thomas O’Brien for my Ponti pining as the pottery in his apartment was my first glimpse of such treasures. Though I hear he is a nice guy, and not at all a cad, I don’t think he feels a bit of responsibility for introducing me to this wickedly enchanting substance. As if I needed another inky black something to covet.


There is a wonderful, wonderful vase (top) on 1st dibs, the perfect piece to begin any collection. Delightful, indeed, is Ponti’s porcelain for Robert Ginori as well, but these tiles! Oh, how they sing.
All images courtesy of 1st dibs; Gio Ponti pieces seen here can be seen here.
rssrss      FacebooktwitterpinterestlinkedinmailFacebooktwitterpinterestlinkedinmail