A Compendium of Design (...and occasionally other things)

So I helped write a book...

2018-11-05T16:08:00.000-08:00

The reason I haven't posted in ages? This. Architectural Digest: Autobiography of a Magazine, 1920-2010.

Over the last few years, I've been working with a small group of fellow former AD staff to help realize a book that not only tells the history of the magazine but that doubles as a memoir for its longtime editor Paige Rense. It's a book in two voices. Each chapter opens with an introduction written in the neutral voice used by the magazine for so many years. Those histories then give way to Paige's own voice as she shares recollections of her forty years at the helm. (I think people might be surprised at how candid she is!)

Making this book was pretty much a dream project. (That old "It's not work if you love it" line.) But its launch with Rizzoli in New York on October 23rd was bittersweet. While I'm thrilled to hold the book in my hands and to know that Paige is happy, I'm also a bit sad it's over. In organizing my files and putting things away, it's been fun to look back through old images and notes, even Paige catching my typos. Yikes! I may have to share some of those over the coming weeks...

But below is how it all began. A blue toile box with Paige's 500+ page manuscript plunked inside. And yep, we're at Zinque, right across from the PDC. It was our regular meeting spot. Which likely had as much to do with its sangria as its centrality.

And below is Paige, signing and smiling, and just having a very good time at the launch. (What a perfect setting John Rosselli Antiques was.) I believe this particular snap was her signing a copy for either Thad Hayes or Stephen Shadley. But I can't quite remember. Seeing so many important designers in the room left me a little bit starstruck...

The full bloom of summer

2017-07-18T09:49:00.000-07:00

Isn't it wonderful, what a little love can do?

The before and after pictures of my little community garden plot never cease to amaze me. It has already gone through many iterations since becoming mine last November, and I'm blown away by the amount of produce that can come out of just a 5-by-10 plot. I've grown Brussels sprouts, lettuces, potatoes, garlic, cabbages and broccolini. Currently, it's pushing up tomatoes, cucumbers, peppers and strawberries. There are herbs, too... far more than I can possibly use: parsley, three kinds of basil, fennel, dill, thyme, lemon thyme (my favorite), garlic chives, rosemary, tarragon, purple sage, pineapple sage and even shiso. I've added a few flowers too, namely dahlias, foxgloves and petunias, for color and attracting the good bugs. "Guests, not pests," is my new motto.

If you live in a city and are without access to your own immediate gardening space, I really can't encourage you enough to join up with your local community garden. The reward is equal to your commitment, and I'm fortunate to be able to get there nearly every other day.

In the words of British garden writer Penelope Hobhouse, "I feel protected from the world by my plants." She's absolutely right, a garden is a place of respite, even though my attempt at videoing the bees joyously buzzing around my African blue basil implies otherwise...

My interview with the legendary Jeremiah Goodman

2017-05-27T13:09:00.001-07:00

That moment you get to connect with someone whose work you've admired for so many years...

I recently had the absolute pleasure to interview artist Jeremiah Goodman for the May issue of Angeleno magazine (you can read it here), just ahead of his exhibition opening at Dessin Fournir in Los Angeles. We got a full page for the story, which was fabulous of course, but there were still a few little bits that I couldn’t quite squeeze into the feature, so I’m putting a few of his fuller responses here because they're so lovely.

I adore him.

MP: Has your process or technique changed at all over the years, and if so, how?

JG: Yes, until the 1960s all of my paintings were made on the spot, in the room that was being portrayed. I still work that way when I can. In some cases, though, it’s just not possible to set up a worktable for the length of time that would be necessary, so in recent years I’ve often worked from photographs, notes and sketches. If it’s a commercial job for an architect I usually have a floor plan, paint samples, etc. I then make a preliminary sketch in pencil and jump right in, usually on illustration board.

MP: I’d love to know your thoughts on the significance of documenting interiors and really illustrating contemporary history. (My mind goes to the importance of illustration for some of my favorite books, like Peter Thornton’s Authentic Décor or Mario Praz’s Illustrated History of Interior Decoration.)

JG: I think there is an organic, visceral quality about hand renderings that cannot be captured through CAD or even photography. The mood and subjectivity of a space is given expression in an illustration. I mean, what do you want to see? It’s ten times better if Yves Saint Laurent does a sweep of a drawing than somebody else drawing all the buttons up the back. My interest is the feeling of light and again, the romantic quality of the picture. That’s the thing I’m trying to do. And, hopefully, that the person who sees them receives them in that spirit. There is a Brazilian word, saudade, meaning a mysterious longing. It is the most marvelous word! We don’t have that word in our vocabulary. It is about a feeling of having been somewhere before. It is similar to dreams and you feel that you had another life because it is so foreign to your actual life, and that the reality of your dream bewilders you. Saudade means a longing for something that you can’t quite put your ﬁnger on.

MP: Is there a “room that got away,” something you didn’t get to paint before it changed?
JG: Absolutely! Villa Trianon, Elsie de Wolfe’s retreat at Versailles. Oh how I wish I could have visited! Revered as America’s first interior designer, Elsie de Wolfe swept away Victorian hauteur and reinvigorated tired buildings with light, open spaces and soft, comfortable upholstery. Inspired by a strong French aesthetic, she introduced Parisian art to American high society. I have created many paintings of the villa from old research photographs. But would have loved to have walked through the rooms. Elsie worked constantly on both sides of the Atlantic, during a decade where it took eight days, rather than eight hours, to travel from New York to France. Those were the days!

And a few more of the images he shared with us...

President Ronald And Nancy Reagan, Living Room, Bel-Air, 1992. ©Jeremiah Goodman

Greta Garbo, Library, New York, 1990. ©Jeremiah Goodman

Edward Albee, Living Room, Montauk, Long Island, New York, 2004. ©Jeremiah Goodman

Refectory tables, because bigger is better

2016-10-06T10:26:00.000-07:00

I'm in love with this room. The colors, the fireplace tile, the chandeliers, the paneling, the rug, the windows... but most especially with that gorgeous, long expanse of table. Refectory tables have their roots in medieval design, a period that has suddenly reignited my interest thanks to some fun genealogical detective work. The tables usually have six to eight legs joined by stretchers just above the floor, and they're most associated with the refectory, or dining room, of monasteries. The tables were used in domestic settings too, often placed in the hall or principal room of medieval dwellings. They remained a common form into the 17th century, with a resurgence in the late-19th century as the Arts and Crafts movement looked to the medieval period for inspiration, as seen in this dining room. And while they were always intended as dining tables, I can't help but wish I had one for a desk... my laptop at one end, with the rest of the surface given over to joyful, if messy, piles of books and papers and magazines.

The dining room above was designed by James "Ford" Huniford for a family in Northern California. I'm delighted to have just interviewed Ford for this month's edition of +RubyLUX.

Click HERE to read the feature.

The Queen and her corgis, as you've not seen them before

2016-06-09T11:12:00.001-07:00

As a writer for design and lifestyle magazines, I get a lot of press releases via email. None, however, have made me giggle quite so much as one that arrived this morning...

Spoonflower is a North Carolina-based firm that lets you design and print your own textiles, wall coverings and even wrapping papers. (How cool is that?)

So with their existing archive of 300+ corgi designs and ahead of Queen Elizabeth's ninetieth birthday this Saturday, they've released a body pillow of Her Majesty and ninety different corgi pillows.

I die.

They even thoughtfully included twelve factoids about the Queen and her corgis, which I'll paste below the images.

Enjoy. And by all means, plump gently.

12 Things You Never Knew About The Queen And Her Corgis

The Queen has owned more than 30 corgis (but none, as far as we can tell, with a name longer than two syllables).

Pembroke Welsh Corgis are her favorite breed.

She has loved corgis since she was a small child, after first encountering those owned by the children of the Marquess of Bath.

The first corgi she ever owned was called Dookie, which her father, the future King George VI, brought home for his daughters Elizabeth and Margaret in 1933.

Elizabeth, age 7, picked Dookie from a choice of three Corgi pups, reportedly because of his longer tail – “So that we can see whether he’s pleased or not”.

When still young princesses, Elizabeth and her sister Margaret, invented the “dorgi”, by cross breeding Elizabeth’s corgi, Tiny, with Margaret’s dachshund, Pipkin.

On her 18th birthday in 1954, the future queen was given a corgi named Susan.

She was so fond of Susan that she took her on honeymoon after marrying Prince Philip in 1947.

Susan founded a corgi dynasty, spanning at least 10 generations of royal corgis.

Susan became one of several royal corgis to bite royal servants, when she nipped Leonard Hubbard, the Royal Clockwinder, as he was entering the Royal Lodge Windsor in 1954.

Holly and Willow, the Queen’s current corgis, are the last two remaining of a once 13-strong pack.

Holly and Willow seem likely to be the Queen’s last corgis, after the announcement last year that she had ended her breeding programme.

Thoughts on collecting, and my latest Staffordshire figure

2016-05-09T11:31:00.001-07:00

I recently came across this Eat Love Savor article about how young people aren't collecting anymore, and I've had to reread it several times as it's really stuck with me. At first I was sad... but then, if I'm honest, the hunter in me kicked in and I actually thought, "Wonderful, less competition!"

While, true, collecting is a hobby that requires free time and extra cash, something a lot of young people don't have, it's also a hobby (a passion) that provides an incredible source of pleasure and learning. There's such a feeling of reward when you discover something you've been looking for, or better yet, when you stumble across a completely unexpected find! My husband and I are lucky to live in an area with fantastic old homes, so estate sales have been a particularly incredible resource for discovering all the old bits and bobs I like... antique porcelain, out-of-print interior design books... you name it. (LA is also a great city for auctions and I'm still thrilled by the Ringo Starr wing chairs we got at Julien's last year! Never mind their cool history, they're insanely comfortable and let us linger long into the evening over a bottle of wine.)

I'm not sure when or how the collecting bug started but I can't quite imagine a time I'll give it up, or a time I'd at least stop looking and being interested. Maybe that's the key, really. To collect, you have to be curious, and I worry that many people today simple are not. And I'm just not sure how you teach or impart curiosity. My parents did it by taking me all over the world at a young age and by putting a huge emphasis on history and culture. My husband's parents did it by being passionate about entertaining at home. There are all sorts of ways. So what's happened?

But I'm not going to solve that now, so here's a look at the latest addition to my Staffordshire collection. Picked it up for a song at a Beverly Hills estate sale on Saturday. And I mean song! It's a late-19th century spill vase with a boy, a girl and a goat. I love their sweet expressions: his is contemplative as he gently pets the goat, and hers is one of pride, her arm draped around her love. Plus, the lead male character of my novel is a redhead, so I took it as a sign... a wonderfully encouraging little wink from the Universe.

Verdant views for writing inspiration

2016-04-28T13:24:00.001-07:00

This afternoon is all about book research, so I'm delving into the gloriously green world of Dutch-born engraver Johannes Kip (c. 1652-1722) who worked for the royal court and followed William and Mary to London in the late 1680s. There, he set up a successful print shop and worked with a number of publishers on documenting England's stately homes and their expansive, park-like settings.

At home in L.A. with Ole Henriksen

2016-02-05T11:41:00.002-08:00

A little behind-the-scenes photoshoot fun at the West Hollywood home of skincare expert Ole Henriksen and interior designer Laurence Roberts. You can see the whole feature here. Gorgeous home. Happy couple. And lots of Danish hygge. Such a fun story to write!

In with the old!

2015-12-16T11:51:00.000-08:00

Our Christmas present to ourselves: Ringo Starr's wing chairs, believed to be from his 17th-century English countryside home, Rydinghurst, that was designed by Nicky Haslam in 1999. Having cleaned red glitter out of the deep tufts, I'm thinking they enjoyed rather a good time. We'll try to do them justice.

The Rolling Stones, historic architecture and a good night's rest

2015-11-09T14:46:00.001-08:00

I've long been a fan of the incredibly smart restoration work done by the Landmark Trust and I've long wanted to stay at Swarkestone Pavilion, so imagine my delight when I was assigned this Rock Star Rentals feature for RubyLUX.

I knew Swarkestone would have to be one of the places highlighted and had such a great time reading about Michael Joseph's infamous Beggars Banquet shoot. Along the way, I found some great outtakes here, and a short film on the shoot created by Mick Jagger's brother Chris, which you can watch here. For those of you who are Stones fans, architecture buffs or both (like me) enjoy!

Branham Rendlen: A different view of Big Sur

2015-09-08T15:25:00.002-07:00

Rancho Rico, Big Sur

I spent a lot of my youth on the Monterey Bay, which exposed me to what one contemporary art history professor, Charles Gaines, not so lovingly referred to collectively as "Carmel Art." And he was right to do so. What began as an artists' community in the early part of the 20th century had become a destination for really awful painting, spearhead by the likes of Thomas Kincaid and gobbled up not only by tourists but, gasp, by locals! When I lived there (and worked at Photography West Gallery -- Carmel does still knock it out of the park when it comes to photography) art galleries were filled with cottage scenes, whales breaching in the moonlight and hotel art, huge pretty pictures devoid of any real meaning. And while the town does still have a few frightful places managing the rent on Ocean Avenue, I was ecstatic to learn about artist Branham Rendlen at the Ventana Inn art gallery during a visiting last month. Her paintings document the coastline in a way that's different from what I've seen for the last twenty-five years. They almost feel like an extension of the Bay Area Figurative movement. They're abstract, complex and intimate, yet they capture the vastness of the wilderness, even on canvases as small as 8-inches square. I'm smitten.

Castro Canyon, Big Sur

Oak and Golden Hills

South Coast, Big Sur

From Bixby Bridge

Foggy Morning, Big Sur

Little Sur During the Road Closure 2011

My favorite new book: Parish-Hadley Tree of Life

2015-08-20T11:40:00.000-07:00

Just reviewed the forthcoming Parish-Hadley book by Brian McCarthy and Bunny Williams for a brand-new, antiques-focused magazine. I'm pretty much in love with it. Color me happy. Really, really happy.

(And, more on the new mag later!)

It's time to bring back baskets

2015-07-16T14:03:00.002-07:00

Mention baskets and someone will make an audible groan. The 1980s kind of did a number on the craft and left us with cringe-worthy memories of country cottages cram packed with baskets of every size and shape, and lots and lots of dried flowers. Case in point: the image below from an early '80s issue of Architectural Digest. Yes, agreed, it looks terribly dated now but it was fashionable. Just like neon, shoulder pads and George Michael's short shorts.

But the past is the past and there's no reason not to revive something that's so worthwhile, and which can look so fresh. There are beautiful examples made all around the globe, available in a range of colors and natural materials like wicker, rush, straw and willow. They're sustainable and surprisingly durable. And they're popping up in magazines like Lonny and House & Garden, where a single basket, a clean and simple statement piece, now adds a very contemporary touch.

A well-made, handsome basket is like a grounding cord for a room; it's a little reminder of the natural world that seems to somehow dispel negativity with its sensible charm.

Elle Decor

Lonny

House & Garden

Below, a few of my favorite designs found online. Traditional or modern... I love them all. And do I have them in my own house? Yes, two: one a planter and the other a Fortnum & Mason picnic hamper that serves as storage for many of the antiques for sale in my webshop. See, practical!

Straight-sided log baskets made by Irish artist Kathleen McCormick, who grows and harvests her own willow.

Fair trade African knitting basket from Connected Goods

Two-tone straw baskets from the French Connection

Soft rattan basket from Neptune

A selection of designs from the Norfolk Basket Company that were shown at the annual basket festival in Provence (where the English basket-making owners also have a gite).

The Balloon Log Basket made by the Somerset Willow Company (which I was lucky enough to visit many years ago -- a truly amazing place!) features leather trim and a linen lining.

Garden Trading's tapered rattan log basket which, even though it's the height of summer, has me daydreaming about fall, my favorite season.

Sunday supper with the Duchess of Devonshire (sort of)

2015-07-05T14:37:00.000-07:00

While marinating chicken to roast tonight, I suddenly remembered that just a few days ago the Lucian Freud painting Four Eggs on a Plate, a gift to his longtime friend the late Duchess of Devonshire, went up for auction at Sotheby's in London. So, after cleaning up, I had to google the sale. The painting, it turns out (not particularly surprisingly), went for nearly 10 times its auction estimate of 100,000 to 150,000 GBP... seven bidders clamoring until the bidding stopped at a whopping 989,000 GBP. (Nearly $380k per egg... or 4.5 million for a dozen!)

The Duchess famously adored her chickens, which lived on the Chatsworth estate and even joined her on the cover of one of her books, so I couldn't help but let myself tumble down the rabbit hole of images of her with the little creatures. Here, a few of my favorites. There's just something inexplicably charming about the photographs, about the Duchess herself. Clearly something Freud, who painted her several times, felt too.

Decorating with a leafy motif: Majolica begonia plates

2015-07-03T08:00:00.000-07:00

A collection of four c. 1880s begonia majolica plates

Whether it’s tulips in the 17^th century, roses in the 18^th century, or the “plant hunters” of the Victorian period, every era had its fascination with flowers. But the 19^th century craze had an entirely new aspect: it wasn’t just a hobby for the wealthy, it was something the middle class could enjoy too. Parks like Kew Gardens in London allowed the public to come face to face with never-before-seen plants and to this day, the Temperate House, at the heart of the park, remains the grandest surviving historical conservatory. Designed by renowned architect and landscape designer Decimus Burton, the 1860s masterpiece is an architectural confection of metal and glass. (It’s currently undergoing a massive five-year restoration. You can read more about that and even donate to the cause, here.) Because the delicate plants needed a climate much warmer than the United Kingdom’s, conservatories became a “must have” for wealthy families who often built them as additions to their centuries-old homes. For more modest homes, terrariums, or Wardian cases as they were known, proved the answer. The great plant fascination transcended societal ranks—everyone wanted them, and everyone could have them.

Flintham Hall, a Jacobean house in Nottinghamshire that received a massive conservatory addition in the 1860s.

A typical Warden case of the late-19th century

As the demand of plants grew, manufacturers were quick to create marketable plant-related necessities for the home. There were new styles of garden furniture made from wicker or iron, jardinières of every size and shape, plant stands, and a flurry of vegetal, naturalistic dishware. English potteries, in particular, fed the fire and pumped out majolica tableware. Large factories like Minton, George Jones and Wedgwood, and smaller factories (primarily in the Staffordshire area, whose wares often went unmarked) churned out fanciful dishes at all price points. Brightly hued and wonderfully lumpy plant-inspired designs surged in popularity… leafy plates with raised strawberries, ferns, vines and, above all, begonias! Begonia plates, either single leaves or a cluster of leaves, were made in the thousands. The plants, which were first discovered in Brazil in the 1690s, were easy to propagate and, more importantly, easy to hybridize—their strange mutations satisfying a grower’s curiosity. It’s no surprise that these easy-to-grow plants became the most popular houseplant of the time. The first variegated begonia was recorded in 1886, which means my plates probably date to that time. I think that’s fascinating!

These days, antique majolica is better used for display rather than dining but did you know that begonias themselves are actually edible? Not something I’ll be trying any time soon.

For fun, below are a few display ideas found on Pinterest (not using plates so lovely as mine)… which, if I’m honest, makes me not want to sell them but to rehang my kitchen wall.

Hello, new adventure!

2015-07-01T11:37:00.001-07:00

I've spent nearly twenty years in the design world, from museums to magazines, so I'm thrilled to announce a brand new venture that brings everything together: a ** web shop ** of some of my favorite finds discovered on fun days out antiquing. I'm all about easy, pretty and functional items... candlesticks, dishes... things that have been used and treasured for so many years and that bring a very real sense of history to a room. Well-made and well-loved objects have an innate charm and hopefulness, and that's precisely the kind of feeling I want in my home. Now, you can imbue your home with it too. The first round of antiques and vintage items is up, with many more to come!

Find out more at mailepingel.com.

xo,

m

Feasting at the Getty

2015-06-30T16:50:00.002-07:00

Last month I took my second historical cooking class with Nancy DeLucia Real at the Getty Museum. I'd done Gothic Desserts several years ago and had a blast, so was happy to find another that worked with my schedule. (And for which there were tickets, as these daytime classes sell out as soon as they're posted!) This time around it was A Renaissance in Dining: Culture and Cuisine of the Northern Italian Courts. We began with a lecture, had a gallery tour of Italian manuscripts... and then we got cooking.

Somehow I found myself at the marzipan station, so I got off rather easily in terms of effort as some of the recipes required a bit more work, like stewed artichokes, Venetian fritters, and tagliatelle with cinnamon and sage. All in all, though, things were surprisingly simple to create. Banquets of the era would have been more elaborate (stuffed peacocks and the like) but these dishes were really very easy. And it's fun to think you're making something with such a long history.

The tagliatelle dish was my favorite, and it now has me putting saffron in my pasta water to intensify yellow color of the noodles. According to a Bolognese legend, tagliatelle was invented in 1487, inspired by the long blonde hair of Lucrezia Borgia, daughter of Pope Alexander VI. Holliday Grainger was good casting in Showtime's The Borgias! But I digress. To make the recipe at home, just get your salted pasta water boiling, add a few saffron threads, and cook according to the directions. (We made fresh pasta in class but I use ready-made at home.) In the mean time, heat a few tablespoons of olive oil in a pan and add in a handful of sage leaves, letting them sizzle and cook for just a few minutes. When the pasta is ready, drain (reserving a cup of the cooking water) and sprinkle with about 1/8 of a teaspoon of cinnamon and the fried sage. Toss, adding a little saffron water and/or extra virgin olive oil to thin, as needed. You can then top each serving with a little parmesan. It was so simple, and so flavorful.

And because the marzipan was so easy (and because I want to document it here, so I don't lose it), I'm posting the recipe below. I spent a Christmas in England years ago and one of the holiday confections we made were marzipan-stuffed dates, decorated with a little slice of red cherry. We used ready-made marzipan but how delicious would they be with homemade, which is softer! In my book, it's never too early to start thinking about the holidays.

Ingredients
2 cups slivered almonds
1 1/2 cups granulated sugar
1/4 rose water
extra-fine sugar for coating
12-14 slivered almonds for garnish (in class we also had strawberries for garnish)

Method
Grind together the almonds, sugar and rose water in a food processor. Process until the mixture is smooth. If the marzipan is too crumbly, add 1 teaspoon of water the mixture. With slightly wet hands, shape a small about of the marzipan into a 3/4-inch ball, roll it in the fine sugar and place it in a candy-size paper cup. Decorate with an almond slice. It will yield 25 to 30 balls.

See? Easy! And if you wanted to coat them in chocolate, I certainly wouldn't stop you.

To learn more about the Getty's culinary classes, click here.

On my enduring love for David Hicks...

2015-05-28T15:56:00.000-07:00

Sometimes the best quotes aren't from the designers but from the clients:

"David walked in, asked for a glass of port and the plans of the house—and, after only a brief tour, made all the right decisions in half an hour."

James Hamilton, the 5th Duke of Abercorn, on designer David Hicks, whom he'd hired to redo the interiors of his family estate, Barons Court, in County Tyrone, in Northern Ireland. From Architectural Digest's 1979 book Traditional Interiors, with photographs by Derry Moore (for whom I also have an enduring love).

Paintings that comfort: the work of Japanese artist Fumi Komatsu

2015-04-21T11:53:00.001-07:00

We spent the better part of the last few months in Phoenix, where my husband's family lives and where my mother-in-law passed away, a month ago today. The final weeks of her life were spent at Hospice of the Valley's Sherman Home on the Mayo Clinic campus, a place we all felt so lucky to have found. It's a wonderful facility--not only does it have an amazing staff but it has generous places (both indoors and out) for families to gather and process their grief. The purpose-built building puts the emphasis on nature (every patient room has a private patio and an always-filled bird feeder) but what I most fell in love with were the many naturalist paintings by Japanese artist Fumi Komatsu. I'd never heard of her, and still don't know much, but I loved her brushwork, palette and subject matter.

I don't know why Sherman House has so many of her works... perhaps they belonged to the Shermans, who funded the facility, or perhaps they were donated by another local collector. No one I asked seemed to know. The little detail I've gleaned on Komatsu is that she was born in 1930 and traveled to New York in the 1950s, after winning a Rockefeller Foundation for International Young Artists award and a one-year fellowship. After completing the fellowship, she entered a New York University competition for foreign artists, which she also won, and for which she received another fellowship. This seems to have been the pattern for a number of years, during which time her work was shown at the Museum of Modern Art, Jenson Gallery and Gallery 75, among others. Patrons included William and Babe Paley, George and Virginia Ullman (with whom she stayed in Arizona during the 1960s) and foreign dignitaries. In a 1961 article in the Arizona Republic, Komatsu explained that she felt “more Japanese in America,” an idea that intrigues me. “You cannot be very Japanese in Japan—at least not in your style of painting," she continued. "In Japan, I feel very tight, very restricted. Here, I feel very free to explain and interpret myself through oils, watercolors, tempera, wood cuttings.”

Maybe it's that uninhibited freedom, a joyful expression, that I'm responding to in her paintings... they provided such an uplifting respite in a time of such sorrow. So why has Komatsu's name all but disappeared? Where have other paintings gone? If anyone knows more about her, or how to find her work, please leave a comment. Until then, I'll just keep watching for one to appear... I'd love to have one.

Sweetly made: Bonbonnières

2015-02-11T17:28:00.002-08:00

When Italian designer Luca Nichetto's new Bonbon side tables (above) appeared in my inbox last week, it was pretty much love at first sight... but they also got me thinking about the term bonbon, in general. It is February, after all, the month of all things sweet and gooey, so I'm indulging in a little history. The word bonbon, which (for the most part) means a small chocolate candy with a soft center, is of French origin and translates simply to "good good" or "doubly good." Its first known use is, according to Webster's, 1770, although various sources point to later 18th-century dates and suggest it was actually a nursery word. Some, however, take it back even early, tracing the introduction of chocolate to France by Louis XIV's bride, the Spanish princess Maria Teresa, in the 1660s. She loved her daily sip of hot chocolate and someone in the palace kitchen had the brilliant idea to create a pretty little morsel from the cooled cocoa. (You can read more about that here.) So while sweets have long been a part of the human diet and have been served in a variety of ways (some, like syllabubs and possets, even requiring specially designed vessels), the advent and popularity of small candies created an entirely new need: where to store your bonbons! Not to fear, manufacturers responded by creating pretty dishes for tabletops, as well as hinged containers that could slip easily into pockets and purses. And with that, the bonbonnière was born. Here now, a little visual history of their development:

Bonbon dish, Doccia manufactory (Florence, Italy), 1750-55, hard-paste porcelain, The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York City

Bonbonnière in the form of a pug’s head (Continental, possibly German), c. 1755, enamel on copper with hand-painted decoration; gilded-metal mount, The Philadelphia Museum of Art

Bonbon dish, Meissen Porcelain Manufactory (Germany), 1760, porcelain, Cooper–Hewitt, Smithsonian Design Museum, New York City

Box and cover, Spode (Stoke, England), c. 1820, porcelain, Victoria & Albert Museum, London

Bonbonnière and scent bottle in the form of a female bust, Made by Samson porcelain factory (Paris, France), late-18^thor early-19^th century, enamel on copper with hand-painted decoration and brass mounts, The

Philadelphia Museum of Art

Ambassador bonbonnière and cover, designed by Oswald Haerdtl for J. & L. Lobmeyr (Vienna, Austria), 1926, mold-blown glass, Cooper–Hewitt, Smithsonian Design Museum, New York City

Bonbon dish, designed by Robert H. Ramp for Reed & Barton (Taunton, Massachusetts), silver, 1950, Dallas Museum of Art

Prototype candy dish by Richard Meier, 1983, silver plate, The Modern Archive

Alligator candy dish (Amsterdam, The Netherlands), c. 2012, porcelain, Piselli Projects

A winter's day

2015-01-19T16:45:00.000-08:00

There is something hugely restorative about being in a garden and this morning's walk at Greystone Mansion was exactly what I needed. Winter in Los Angeles is by no means a hardship but even though the landscape isn't covered in frost and snow doesn't mean there aren't seasonal changes. There most definitely are, they're just subtle. So subtle, in fact, you have to look a bit to see them but perhaps that's part of the beauty.

Tempus fugit...

2015-01-13T17:21:00.001-08:00

Where, oh where, have the last two months gone?

Prince Charles' garden at Highgrove House

2014-11-14T08:25:00.001-08:00

Spend an hour touring Highgrove's gardens—they're spectacular. Plus it's Prince Charles' birthday today, so why not?

Early 18th-century pattern books—a wealth of inspiration

2014-10-30T15:00:00.000-07:00

When I was did the Christie's Decorative Arts program at the University of Glasgow, the course was divided in to five categories. First we studied the history of interiors, then it broke down into media: ceramics, glass, textiles and silver. As the course went along, we were encouraged to focus our studies and were allowed to drop one of the four media. I dropped textiles... which I've regretted ever since, especially when I stumble upon treasure troves of historic patterns, like these by James Leman at the V&A. Leman was born in Spitalfields, London, in 1688 to a Huguenot family of weavers, and became a successful designer, providing hundreds of patterns for woven silks produced by some of the most fashionable factories. Most of the patterns posted here date between 1706 and 1716, making them some of the earliest silk patterns known to exist. I love the old color combinations, the stylized fruits and flowers, and the exotic bits of architecture. A single page could inspire a dozen new designs. I've always said I'll be a landscape designer in my next life. Perhaps I'll be a textile designer in the one after that. So much beauty, such endless possibilities!

Behind the scenes at designer Kathryn Ireland's new LA studio

2014-10-18T16:22:00.002-07:00

Last month, I had the pleasure of meeting designer Kathryn Ireland at a photo shoot for a story I was writing for Interiors California. I **love** being on shoots, and while Kathryn and photographer Robert Benson did their thing, I tiptoed around with my phone and snapped a few pics of Kathryn's new studio/office. Its as charming as you might expect... There are antiques from London dealer Christopher Hodsoll, racks of hand-printed textiles, sitting areas that display Kathryn's designs and, of course, all the working parts of the shop, from the long printing tables to the sewing rooms. Below are a few pictures from the day. Enjoy!

Kathryn and Robert in the studio's kitchen. I covet her Aga.

The entryway leads past the workrooms, sitting rooms and kitchen to the big living room and meeting space.

Everything Kathryn in one cheerful room.

Textiles, wood, tufting... texture, texture, texture.

A tabletop laden with the designer's many decorating books.

Where the magic happens... the printing room!

Sew, sort, sell.

Kathryn's new book, Inspired By, pays homage to the many people who have inspired her over the years.