Gold Smith

I was curious when I heard about Michael Smith's new book, Building Beauty: The Alchemy of Design.  Close on the heels of Kitchens and Baths and focused on the renovation of just one house, I wondered if it would seem rushed.  Worse, that it would be filler.

As it turns out, it is pure gold.  I read the book cover-to-cover in one sitting and it is the most remarkable tale of the most remarkable project.

A talented designer, trusting and generous clients, a team of exacting craftsmen and a beautiful Malibu setting combine to deliver something incredibly special.

Christine Pittel tells the tale in an intimate and conversational tone; I felt as if I were looking out over that bluff, tip-toeing behind Smith in Will Fisher's antique shop and overseeing the placement of the pietra serena stone alongside Jim Sangster.

I can with much certainty predict that I will never be involved in a project of any kind that will be executed with the same level of care and precision.  Rather than instilling envy, the story of this process filled me with awe.  Without pretense, it is a story of passion and commitment to that unnamable thing that goes "click" when something is right.

You can find Building Beauty: The Alchemy of Design here.

All images courtesy of Rizzoli; photography from top, Fernando & Gerardo Montiel Klint, Francois Halard, Klints, Halard.

Hope Springs

I am on the outs with the weather, holding it at a distance as a friend or lover who has delivered a thoughtless slight but cannot be cut loose.  "Not personal," of course, and I can't pretend it's so, but still I don't care to reengage and can't forgive.  It's no coincidence that every thing I seem to be ripping from magazines and pulling from showrooms is green.  Apple and kelly and acid, anything for every room to cut the gloom of the clouds and the rain.  Suddenly, there seems to be a place for satin, space for leather and always a spot for chintz.  Ribbon from a friend's gift graces my inspiration board and boxwood balls bounce across the front beds and still it is not enough.

I need spring.

These are not meant to be used together or even in the same room. They are, clockwise from the largest leather sample top, B. Berger Green Leaf, Garrett Leather Chatham Chartreuse, Cowtan & Tout, Moss Rose, which would be on my office chairs now if it were not for Dexter, Serena & Lily Grass Trellis, which will live at my kitchen windows eventually, if I could just focus long enough to figure yardage, ribbon from a dear friend and Schumacher Honeycomb in Lettuce from the Mary McDonald collection.

Padding the Walls

I know that you will think I've come unhinged, but we really are expecting snow.  Three to five inches and my sanity is, seriously, hanging by a thread.  I told Bill last week, "When people ask how I am, I am going to say, 'I am not fine.' Because I'm not."  So I have retreated a bit to small, dark spaces and started thinking about the bathroom that we recently finished in the basement.  I kept the original turquoise sink and toilet because, well, they're turquoise and what could be more fabulous?  Now I get to paint the walls.

This page from a recent Serena & Lily catalogue caught my eye.  I thought this might be a clever way to use the four-hundred-and-fifty-two sample jars of paint that I have languishing in my basement.

Then, somewhere trolling the internet, I ran across an image of Cecil Beaton's powder room and, truly, I cannot imagine anything more charming than guests tracing their hands on the wall.

I had asked the boys (it is the basement, so mostly their domaine and their crowd) what they thought about my painting frames around squares of chalkboard paint and then their friends could draw their own pictures on the walls.  "They wouldn't do anything crude would they?  Naughty?" I asked.  All three, in three different exchanges said, "Yeah, mom, of course they would." And I thought with annoyance not for the first time, "Girls wouldn't."

So I've settled on something in-between.  I think I am going to paint replicas of some of my favorite paintings, something of an Abstract Expressionists hall of fame, and leave a few blank with the tempting chalkboard centers.  Naughtiness be damned.

Images, from top, Serena and Lily, unknown, Graham and Brown Wallpaper and Cafe Sebastienne at the Kemper Museum here in town which is a personal favorite. 

Legendary La Cienega

In the last ten days I've stepped, if not out of my comfort zone, a little out of my regular circle of friends.  I like my friends, but it was a conscious shift.  In doing so I've met a couple in their sixties who are hiking in Nepal in the next year, another couple who moved to town because they fell in love with a house and then let the rest of their lives fall in around it and yet another who is here for work, but plans to move when he retires in three years because they hate the weather.  Where are they going?  Back to Michigan, which should tell you something about our weather (especially of late.)  An old friend and a new friend joined us for dinner last weekend and he told tales of spending time on his grandfather's ranch in California as a boy.  It is invigorating to put yourself someplace new.

Even better to put yourself someplace new and sunny.  I'm headed to Los Angeles next week for Legends of La Cienega.  Because it's new.  And sunny.  And creative and fun and energizing.  I'll be hanging out with my friend Megan Arquette, who I rarely get to see in real life and taking in all the great events (which you can find and sign up for here.)  My second largest geographical demographic of readers (horribly awkward phrasing - open to suggestions for revision) is in California, so if you see a middle-aged Midwesterner who you think might be me, it is.  Say "hi."  Tell me your story.  I'd love to hear it.

Selfie - Sort of

A few people posted and emailed to ask for a larger image of the screens, which, frankly is lovely.  But see what happens when I post "more?"  Sort of loses something, though it does look quite nice in person.  It's the light, maybe, or as someone pointed out recently, the photographer.

It's one eight-panel screen hand-painted over silver leaf, likely 1920's.  

With some wear.  Like its mistress.

There's a plan for some reupholstery as well. While this charming image of Pauline de Rothschild turned up on pinterest yesterday did not inspire it, it certainly could have.

Thank you, to those who asked, for your interest.

Screen Time

It's thirty-six degrees here and I am looking out my office windows at something dreadful called "wintery mix." In Seussian fashion I don't want to go out and I don't want to stay in, have loads to do but don't care to begin.  I keep jumping from one thing to the next, though nothing engages me.  The only solace is, as I walk back and forth to the kitchen (I convince myself that the twenty-five steps there and back negate the small square of dark chocolate with orange that I am going to fetch) is the new screens flanking the sofa.  I may need to take just one more pass.

Wright for Me

If, like Maria and Claudio Luti, you think your home might be enhanced by a Picasso drawing, you could hop over to Wright to view images from one of their next auctions, Picasso: Master Drawings from a Private Collection, which takes place this Thursday (April 25th.)

I've been working on a project in which Picasso plays a minor role (certainly that was never the case in real life) and I've developed a sort of personal attachment to the artist.  The untitled etching above is one of my favorites from the sale, though certainly not expected to be the most dear.

But the piece I would want most is this photograph by Andre Villers.  For me it is as if this image of Picasso's studio mirrors the breadth of his creativity.  And it's a jumble, which is unfailingly appealing.

You can view all the lots here as well as the items in Living Contemporary, which are terrific as well.  You may be surprised to find that there are many pieces that are incredibly affordable.

Image, top, New York Times Style Magazine, Spring 2013, photography Ruy Teixeira; other images via Wright.

Powerful Balance

This may be one of the most singularly beautiful rooms that I've seen.  I carry a lot of rooms around in my head like beloved memories and this one will hopefully be happy knocking around in there with the rest.

The home of Maria and Claudio Lutti, he the CEO of Kartell, which was founded by his father-in-law, New York Times Style Magazine, Spring 2013; styled by Carolina Irving and photography Ruy Teixeira.

Book Week - Heirloom Modern

It's sometimes easy, especially in the on-line world, to be foggy on the concept of friendship.  I'm "friends" with over one thousand people on Facebook, though I interact with a couple of dozen people whom I actually know.  People whose food aversions are familiar, whose mental and emotional land mines have been well-charted and whose ability to make me laugh with a timely look is unfailing.

A few years ago, in an effort to say "thank you" to some of these folks who had been especially kind to Mrs. Blandings, I planned a cocktail party during one of my New York visits.  In an unsurprising but incredibly generous move, my big city friend offered to host it.

It was a terrific crew and the people who were there are still the people I see when I am in the city.  In the crowd were Jean Sagendorph, Hollister and Porter Hovey and, of course, my big city friend, David Epstein.

Hollister and Porter were blogging and working and Jean was toiling as a book agent at a large firm.  David was, and still is, being fantastic.  In any event, some sort of magic was sparked.

The result of which is a really terrific book written by Hollister with pictures by Porter, including both homes of my friend David.  Jean, now on her own, stirred the pot.  Heirloom Modern is an incredibly personal book about people who have filled their homes with the treasures of their pasts.  Fresh and lively it will inspire you to rummage cupboards and live with the things that mean the most.

You can find Heirloom Modern here and, I happen to know, at Rainy Day Books in Fairway.  Kansas Citians, please mark your calendars for a book signing June 1st at Anthropologie on the Plaza from noon until two.

All images, Porter Hovey.

Book Week - Nicky Haslam's Folly de Grandeur

I have a friend who says that you find your clothing style in college and never really change it.  I'm glad to say that while I was once a fan of jean jackets and stirrup pants they have not reappeared in my wardrobe since graduation.  Oh, also no denim mini-skirts, though I did have a doozy back in the day.

But I did love chintz, need chintz, surround myself with chintz and that has never changed.  In or out, thumbs up or down, I always seem to have a little (or a lot) hanging around.

You won't be surprised to know that I adore Nicky Haslam's new book Folly de Grandeur.  It lived in my car for weeks at the ready for any brief or extended idle.

Painted walls, chipped furniture, hand-dotted brackets and needlepoint, needlepoint, needlepoint.  I love every page.  Haslam's own words make it a treasure.

You can find Folly de Grandeur here.