My Palace Walk.....from the Sahara to the Subcontinent

A Majestic Man & His Many Colours

2016-02-26T08:55:00.001+11:00

On this blog, I've written about royalty, princesses, palaces, interiors, colour, style, exoticism, travel, artisanship, beauty, nature, literature, history, film & poetry ... but never music - more specifically, my undying love of it, AND, in particular, the 'music-man' who has captured my heart & countless others for nearly four decades. Gosh that sounds a bit old! ... But hey, he's older ... though significantly more spry & fly' than I'll ever be!!

Yes, I'm referring to the one & only 'Artiste' - the diminutive dance-dexter, swoon-scintillator, heart-palpitator, groove-motivator & purple thunder of all regal wonders ... that is Prince.

A name & noun that sits & fits plumb in my Palace. For PRINCE & MPW are one. Practically sympatico - OK, I'm getting slightly carried away, but I mean the PURPLE, the PAISLEY, the embroidered emblems, eclectic fabrics & outfits, the classicism, the divine design, the flower-power, the sensuality, balladry, poetry & romance. HELLOOO!

*Rocking the embellished 'Onesie' like a
fuchsia funkmeister. Prince does pink proud.

I've been privileged to see Mr Nelson in concert on several occasions, in a swathe of slinky costumes, on a few kinky continents ... sporting an array of fabulous hair-do's too: from powerful, masculine mohawk to long, sleek & sexy-full, short-shaved & engraved (with slave) to his present funky 'fro ... & boy, does he become them all - tilting his head, tapping his feet, commanding the beat & sounding-off like the masterful, maestro he truly is.

His latest incarnation - stripped back & super-cool on a mic & piano (nothing else & with no heels in sight!) - was, & is, without exaggeration & fully deserving of the hype ... the greatest concert experience of them all.

Did I happen to mention the bling-connection?

Stepping out for a night with His Highness

Sans band, back-ups, booty-girls, special effects, synths, lights & other mod-cons, we got to see the Prince of pure, practised perfection. THAT voice (& celestial range), brought into sharpest focus, & the consummate keys that accompanied it ... were a gift - one that pierced our ears, hearts & minds to the verge of quiet collapse.

Ain't got no time for beige!

I say 'quiet' because the Princely vision held our attention ... completely, astutely, telling the hysterical 'Let’s go crazy' one's when to shhhh, & the dazed among us when to stomp & holla. And the people listened - shushed, stomped & sang when summoned - because, he IS, after all, a Prince.

To be honest, he had us at stage-entry. Standing silently in (back-lit) golden silhouette, with rotund locks & regal sceptre outlined - an almost 'holy' apparition ... We ate it up & lost our flirty, 'Dirty Minds' before he even started singing it.

From there, Prince took us on a musical ride of remembrance, of lost-love ballads that 'Nothing Compares 2', of first 'Kiss' kisses & relaxing drives that 'smelled of the weekend'. He asked us to 'try to imagine what silence looks like' ... Yeah ... what silence looks like ... & he looked at us.

Swoooon!!

A medley of some of my fave, flamboyant,
artsy album covers from the 80s through to the Noughties.
How's that luscious 'Love Sexy'? (bottom/centre) ...
Oh Maaaa! So risqué back in the day.

And so, in my umpteenth decade, listening with pounding heart & a river flowing down my face, to even smoother versions of songs I first cavorted to when I was twelve!!! (Great-gosh-almighty!) I realized what a long, colourful, winding road it was that led me to be here, all 'growned-up'. In fact, WE are ALL growned up now. Prince too. But the sweet, melodious memories remain.

Though no longer a gum-popping teen in the playground, with secret ambitions of joining a 'revolution' (Prince & the Revolution! :) ) ... & Prince himself not the tufted, pompadoured, frilly shirt-slayer of yesteryear ... the musical reality was the same. The intensely beautiful lyric, the syncopating, hypnotic beat, the gripping growl & faultless falsetto, the sensuously deep emotion, sultry, side-eye glances & fluttering lashes, the energy, the enigma, the 'gentle' man, the Music MAJESTY. Up close & personal.

Oh this was REAL - but for me it was a forty-year fantasy, from which I will never, ever recover. Xx

*In other fascinating royal news, Prince's doves, 'Divinity' & 'Majesty' (see what I mean? Sympatico!!), are credited on his 'One Night Alone' album with providing "ambient singing". Coo Coo, Woo Woo! Tehe :)*

Thank you for making space in your day to read my post

(I love & appreciate all your uplifting comments)

IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO, YOU CAN FOLLOW MY PALACE ANTICS BY SUBSCRIBING TO THIS BLOG ... OR CONNECT WITH ME ON IG or TWITTER

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#All writing & photos by Rani.C (Char)

#Albums/CD covers - personal copies

*Image from Essence magazine

*Top image - Taken inside the State Theatre, Melbourne, at the February 17th Prince concert, 'Piano & a Microphone'.

#The comments appear along the pink bar below

Four Years of Festive Face-Time

2016-01-21T11:55:00.000+11:00

AND ...

... 192 EXPRESSIONS IN (TECHNI) COLOUR

... Hip-shaking, back-breaking, friendship-making

Arts, Crafts, Collage & Montage-Memories

... coupled with poetry, floetry,

fabulous flamboyancy, fabrics & gems!

AND THERE'S MORE TO THIS SHIMMYING STORY YET

EARNEST THANKS to all who joined me then ...& to those HERE with me now, at the Palace in 2016! Let's make it fancy, schmancy, romancy ... & keep the colour & conviviality alive. 'OUR' story of sister-hood, solace & shared, common interest ... continues without bounds :)

With love & smoochies for my divinities,

to whom I am completely beholden,
Char Xx

IF YOU HAVEN'T, AND WOULD LIKE TO, YOU CAN FOLLOW MY PALACE ANTICS BY SUBSCRIBING TO THIS BLOG ... OR CONNECT WITH ME ON IG or TWITTER, I SHALL LEAVE A CANDLE BURNING.

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#All writing/designs/'OneRoseOneRuby'products & photos (of Facebook-Past) by Rani.C (Char)

The Quintessential Indian ... Interior!

2015-11-23T16:23:00.002+11:00

Well, now that I have you here, I need to confess that there is actually ...no ...such ...thing!

For a country that is as rich, dynamic, complex, crazy, contradictory and multifarious as Mother India ...it would be a misnomer to use the word 'quintessential' or 'typical' to describe any of its overarching characteristics, artistic proclivities or aesthetics.

Somewhere in Puri ...
internal grills, wooden shutters, deep,
dark vermillion, tribal borders ...& a bust of Lenin!!
WHAT THE???

You will find on the east of the Subcontinent a reverence for dark, lineal, earthy & brooding colours, designs & utilities -- as befits the folkloric & tribal observances of, say, Odisha & Assam -- as well as the austere, erudite tastes & influences of both pre & post-British Bengal.

Colonial-style, peacock wicker-chairs &
weaved moda (stool/table) in a Bengal bungalow

Terracotta, earthen-ware, stone/concrete walls & floors,
& lattice screens are common in east Indian homes

Traditional textiles - Odishi, handloom, ikat sari in
mustard and navy blue/aubergine. Tonal 'tastes' seem to
reflect the staple diet of fish, dahl & brinjal (eggplants)

*A Kolkata classic.
Earthy hues, historic, time-worn collectibles, dhokra (brass) accessories, plates, pictures, patina & solid rose-wood furniture...

...All add to the fusion of old-world charm & indigenous artisanship of this region.

Over to the west side, the desert dominates, giving way to an explosion of light-absorbing, architectural & textile-reflecting counterpoints. Rajput & Mughal warriors, Gujarati Garba & Rajasthani Kalbeliya dancers, snake-charmers, gypsies & merchants all accede & ascend to the spectacle of effusive colour. To dazzle in 'full' light, or by romantic moonlight, is both a palatial & personal predilection in these parts.

*Don the sunnies for this Jaipur gem -

fashion designer, Liz Bruce's confection of

cushioned alcoves, elaborate arches & stenciling,

cobalt-glass chandeliers & floor pillows for flouncing

Doors of distinction.
Jewel-toned Amber fort with its opulent recesses
& gestures in gold

A chorus of kaleidoscopic choli blouses awash with
the west-Indian wow factor -- textured, glittering threads &
no colour restrictions, set the tone for one's home

*Bolsters are BIG & reclining is recommended!
Enamel, glass, precious-stone & metal inlay,
marble, mud-brick & maharanis combine to produce the most lavish west Indian interiors

*A decorative jhoola (Indian swing)
just seals the deal

Down south, with its tropical climate and lush, verdant greenery, a light hand & deft touch see simple, subdued cotton textiles, brass fixtures, wooden houses, sculptures & evocative rangoli patterns -- all part of an intrinsic southern lore, governed by female energy (shakti), motherhood & holistic living. This classical, artistic influence & beautifully serene style can be widely viewed & experienced throughout much of Asia, where Hinduism was exported -- most notably in Indonesia, Cambodia, Burma & even Vietnam.

Keralan teak-wood mansion with sculptural roofs,
Venetian etched mirrors
& sacred Hindu deepam (oil lamp)

*Simple, white & indigo cotton,

Nelson-fluted floor-lamp & side-table

*Easy, breezy, ethereal ...
with trompe l'oeil stair mural

*Teak toys, antique brass scissors
& other apprized items

Chalk rangoli design -
welcoming friends & good fortune

To the north of the continent, where vertiginous cliffs, mountainous terrains & robust residents salute the source of all life -- rivers, endangered eco-systems & the loveliest of low-clouds ...we stumble upon practical magic. Fishing, farming, sacred ritual & all things fertility come into play in art, design & building. Villages & villagers of the north place great emphasis on blankets, bamboo, coir, cane, Warli paintings, murals & metal-work.

*Traditional Indian charpoy bed

& blankets galore

*Sculpted wood & woven cane, sparkly
cushions & silvery things (including Nandi the bull -
bearer of truth & righteousness)

Handmade bamboo 'chik' screens

allow for airiness & peekaboo privacy

'Warli' home paintings of the north
tell the tales of nomadic Adivasis

While there's enviable variety & heart-heaving abundance in the textiles, textures & treatments of Indian homes & palaces -- from north to south, east to west, big, small, traditional or contemporary -- one thing underpins them all; the interpretation, expression & celebration of the specific environment in which they exist and the ancestral legacies that have coloured & constructed them.

I find the hearths & homesteads of my homeland to be imbued with instinct & individuality ...& much like the people themselves; mindful, artful & decidedly devotional.

Thank you for making space in your day to read my post

PLEASE JOIN ME ON IG or TWITTER

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#All Writing & Water-marked photos by Rani.C (Char)
*Image from Elle Decor International edition 2012 - Kolkata home of Surajit Iyengar (personal copy)
*Image from Celebrity Style magazine 2006 (personal copy)
*Seeta Devi in the film, Prem Sanyas (The Light of Asia) 1925
*From 'India Style' - Monisha Bharadwaj (personal copy)
*Image from 'Indian Interiors' - Sunil Sethi, featuring the south-Indian home of Jean Lesage (personal copy)
*From 'Indian Interiors' - by Sunil Sethi.

Of Beauty, Background & Eastern Belonging

2015-08-16T19:56:00.001+10:00

Beauty is in more than just the EYE of the beholder … it is in the very SOUL. Without it, soulfulness, that is, things are just things -- no shape, context or meaning. And I LOVE beauty & beautiful things to the depths of my soul. If that sounds shockingly materialistic or shamefully shallow, well how’s this, I make no apology for it either!

Tonnes of tuberose & jasmine Gajra (flower garlands)

& their necklace twin below.

Cotton/silk materials used for

OneRoseOneRuby necklaces, emulate flower leis.

To have a discerning eye, a discriminating taste, an appreciative appetite for beauty (AND, by default, the artist, artisan, crafter, atelier who’s beautiful thoughts germinated into a tangible creation that so captured you) ... is, in my opinion, not necessarily a bad thing. The secret is in the economy of choosing & the reasons behind the choice. Everyone’s desires, motivations & ‘money-bags’ are different, of course, but the finding, filtering, flirting & fascination with objects of beauty are part of the dance of life, & sometimes even, the letting go of the need to HAVE them. (I’ve not ENTIRELY reached that stage yet!)

Hand-crafted choker of 24Kt (mesh) gold.

A (maha)Rani family heirloom.

Bangles to bequeath, betroth &
bedazzle the subcontinental lady.

Sensually, transparent net-sarees with delicate Chikankari embroidery ... to be transformed for my shop!

I, for one, am a person highly sensitive to my surroundings. A bare wall & a beige sofa are an ‘emergency surgery’ situation in my home. I’m also the individual who buys ‘travel candles’ & lights incense in the loo, for, you know, devotion … to the dunny goddess! From the tenderest age (in my homeland of India), I have witnessed colourfully colossal din-dins to the deities, fulgent fashions fit for a feathered monarch, high-octane, fragrant festivities, the likes of which only the Gods can fully digest, & homes festooned with truck-loads of tinsel, that TALKED! All of this has saturated my inner-world with an intense light & vivacious pulse -- the volume & velocity of which are always on MAX.

Tinsel ... of the 'vocal' variety!
(Old Delhi -- Chandni Chowk market)

Colourful crescent moons at the Muslim
marriage registry (Kolkata)

As a consequence, I simply can’t live without the warmth & glow of colours in my home that recreate the dazzling sunset over the Yamuna river, nor the contrasting sheen & coolness of exquisite alloys against my skin, echoing full-moon nights, collecting water from a well. I always ‘hear’ bracelets, ‘smell’ sandalwood & ‘taste’ rose-water in my creations -- for they are the essence of the Orient ... & the bed-time story of my youth.

'Teratali', tribal dancer --

the embodiment of extravagance

colour & cultural connectedness
(Ranakpur, Rajasthan)

Pink, orange, purple & green
Agra, a river & a row-boat.

My 'OneRoseOneRuby' shop pieces are a living, breathing tribute to this heritage. Every fabric, sari, trim, filigree-design, sumptuous stone & swinging pendant is a sonorous song to the past, present & future of my creative life -- afforded to me by ‘accident’ of birth & the ‘provision’ of certain artistic leanings. These memories & personal accessories; hand-crafted, designed & created by me, bring me enormous comfort … & much more, they bring me (& hopefully others) immense joy & pleasure.

'OneRoseOneRuby' textiles, trinkets, tassels, trim ...

= my treasure & my toil

Pleasure, for me, is the ultimate reward for a life well 'spent' ... AND intentioned. In my case, this has been studying history, commerce & art, independent travel, living abroad (both in Europe & Asia) … and seeking & ‘speaking’ beauty wherever I go. Yes, for me, beautiful things need to speak. They need to teleport, translate in all tongues & transmit endearing energies. They need to remind me of certain events & emotions -- hold strong memory connections of some ONE, some PLACE, some TIME; a thoughtful, well-made gift from a lover, a congratulatory gift to self, one's first pay-check purchase, that dream-trip to Tangiers ... each offering a story of our likes, loves, tastes, traits & interactions.

Cairo's carpets.

A middle-eastern melange & magical remembrance.

Antique Ottoman oil lamps. Turkey's got taste ... & talent!

There needs to be ALL of this, coupled with croon-worthy craftsmanship & a sharp sense of history, for a thing to have ‘value’ for me. In my world, you see, ‘things’ are not just functional ... they are EXPERIENTIAL, often emblematic & almost always edifying.

Mud-brick paintings &

primitive places (Shilpgram, Udaipur)

A medieval marvel ...

Kalna, terracotta temple carving.

I don't want to get to the end of my days with a storage-unit filled with meaningless fandangles that were de rigueur for a hot-minute. No, I want to own things, make things, gift, see & share things that stand the test of time ... that turn heads, start dialogues, warm hearts. I want my life & my painted tomb to say (like Tutankhamun himself) … I was here … I lived ardently, expansively … & I liked a bit of the good stuff! Xx

Thank you for making space in your day to read my post

PLEASE JOIN ME ON IG or TWITTER

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#This post seeks to articulate the 'SOUL' of OneRoseOneRuby & appears as a link on my website, under that tab/title.

#You can read about my jewelry process & dedication to the craft 'HERE' or ... 'RETURN TO MY SHOP'

#All Writing & #Photos by Rani.C (Char)

The passion, the process ...the PIECES -- Where glamour meets gastric heartburn!

2014-12-05T16:16:00.000+11:00

Sitting in a rented vehicle -- ready to make the six-hour return journey to the small village where four generations of women in my family have annually convened to collaborate with fifth-generation artisans for the purposes of chai, chatter & creative jewellery making -- I'm taken back, & slightly aback, by the imminent, irrational roads & lanes of lumpiness we must traverse, the death defying obstacles hurtling passed, which threaten to take us prematurely to our heavenly maker, & the slightly surreal feeling that ALL the Ghosts of Aunties Past are watching closely, curious, slightly circumspect & ready with sharp tongues & shawls wrapped tightly around shoulders to critique my designs!

Overstuffed bicycles, bulls and bright
lorries compete for space

Will they be pretty? ...Will they be finished? ...Too big/small ...gaudy ...articulated/interpreted the way I have imagined, sketched & explained for months & months via correspondence? Will anyone even like them?

One of my many earring designs

I sigh and say a silent prayer as I pass each & every shrine & temple along the way ...& the way is hard my friends.

Stuck for hours, on my own, on a precarious 1.5-meter-wide, 20-metre-high bridge, built back in the days of the British, with only the equivalent of a curtain rod & a threadbare brick separating you from certain death, not to mention an ominous 'skull & bones' warning of collapse if more than two vehicles cross at the same time, I have to ask myself two questions: Is this some kind of population control? AND... Is the bling really worth it?

The yellow bridge of angst

Oxen doing the rounds over the road

After a half-cocked symphony of whaling car-horns, buffalo horns, moustache preening (by taxi drivers, not me) & half-a-dozen useless buttons & boiled eggs sold to me through the window, we teeter on. We go past the impressive Muslim madrasah, tatty Tata car factory & the funky fish market (which I could get whiffs of two hours prior!) ...& I know now that the six-hour journey has stretched into ten. This is why they lovingly call it IST - Indian stretchable time! And you see, it happens all the time, & I've seen it all before, but each time with eyes agog & wonder ever increased.

School & mosque being mended

As we turn the corner at Haldirams sweet shop with the old plantain wallah (green-banana seller) crouched on the curb, crooning a melody to off-load his last bunch, I reach out to relieve him of his burden & instinctively sniff the skins -- because this, dear friends, most reminds me of my childhood; a childhood in this bountiful village that lasted a mere three years. Smell is such a compelling conduit of memory ...so too colour ...& that colour for me, has always been GOLD.

Smelting the gold

Pretty soon, I am before it. It is unmistakable. ‘Warmth’, ‘Glow’, ‘Glitter’ & ‘Shimmering’ are my companions & when they welcome me with a bhajan (devotional song), a gajra (flower garland) a tilak (forehead blessing) & a sweet rose-lassi ...I know I am home.

The Ābhūṣaṇa kī dukāna (jewellery shop) is my happy homestead.

A countertop of traditional gold & onyx mangal-sutra
(wedding necklaces) [Notebook & chai are also a must!]

My pieces are summoned like precious children. Lined up & presented with perfect poise.

My third collection of designs
& a few remakes brought to beaming life

There is great nervousness & expectation. I look them over, study their lines, angles & finishes. Measure, weigh, make note of errors, request small changes, and fend off pushy Aunties (unrelated to me) who gawk inquisitively. And before long, I have an audience of cutie Kewpie-doll girls, breathless brides & demanding-diva Mama-Ji's all ogling my jewels -- hence it's time for a private viewing.

Celestial Goddess admiring her bling

Most popular & practical in India, is to buy ready-made, ‘chunky-don’t-funk-with-me’ super lustrous sparklers. It is the Indian woman’s currency and still used as a bartering tool and dowry device in many regions. Some, though, have the privilege and desire for custom-made. I am fortunate to be one.

OneRoseOneRuby gems &
materials for necklaces

A lineage of loyal patrons creates a distinctive bond, a special relationship, between the creative & the creator, the artist & the artisan, the designer & the maker. It's a mutual understanding & respect for the hand-mastered artform, the devotion to detail and reverence for imagination. But the challenge posed by going outside conventional or traditional design in an established jewellery house, wanting to maintain certain cultural standards -- together with the time management skills required to cater for me & a gazillion other more important clientele & the need to acknowledge each & every design as a work of individual, artistic, expression -- make for an arduous, painstaking process. It involves much time, money, effort, unpredictable (sometimes impossible) barriers & a palace-full of patience. When all goes well, however, it is the ultimate student-teacher symbiosis ...me being the very contented student.

Sorting the stones

I design & make jewellery for adornment; for the pure, unadulterated joy of beauteous things for beauty's sake. Jewellery that enhances, enchants & transforms ...without any rendering to a higher order, no ill-conceived spiritual claims, condescending saviour-complex (helping little brown people out of poverty, while lining my own pockets ...How Colonial!!) or any particular intellectual pursuit. That is not my motivation or marketing strategy. Wearing my pieces, you will not become part of an elitist club or community of high-minded priestesses. I like to think of my jewels as having an objective beauty & universal value rather than a narrow, subjective worth. They are informed by my rich cultural heritage, fondest memories, significant travel experiences, sweet sentimentality &, mostly, my desire to create something different and special for you & me. I pay the gold & silver market price, the labour charges as asked of an established, ethical & prominent jeweller, extensive travel expenses & the privilege of protection & relative anonymity (unlikely elsewhere, including Kolkata). The risk of copy & duplication is nil. [That is of course, before I put them up on the Internet. Then it's game on for all parasites & other pests!] There is a high premium for quality & exclusive workmanship.

Intricate filigree earrings of solid gold,
a OneRoseOneRuby design.

So, to answer my own question, Is the bling really worth it? Well, when I frown, even cry a bit, become woeful, sometimes exasperated that the whole journey will have to be repeated, maybe twice, even thrice -- because the gold pieces have been made silver or the silver made gold -- I have to wonder if my dearest jeweller can also turn water into wine & drown my sorrows! The traffic jams, the choke-hold of diesel around my larynx. The heat, the dust, the careening trucks of doom, teetering on just two wheels (yeah, TWO WHEELS). The feeling of failure & disappointment, because only five out of 20 pieces materialised. Worrying about time and money. Pondering how often I can get back to India. Having to inspect every piece in person ...That's when the fear & doubt sets in. When the foolishness, self-pity & magnitude of the whole shebang starts to weigh heavily ... & then, THEN, I look outside the car window to see a 40-kilo, toothless, old woman carrying a 50-kilo stack of bricks on her head in the blazing sun, & I instantly snap out of it.

Clay-relief figurine carrying a load

“Get over yourself, I say. You have so many things she doesn’t ...most significantly, choice!” I've made my choice, now I just need HER unconquerable strength & determination to continue.

When I get back to the hotel & settle down into my floaty kaftan, the answer to my question bursts forth with a resounding YES! Yes, I will get back in that taxi tomorrow, brave the mechanical beasts on the street, suck up the black soot, cross that perilous bridge, buy a dozen unneeded eggs, muse over moustaches in traffic jams, high-five the banana-man, negotiate the jewels all over again & pray earnestly to the temples, shrines & ancestors of my past. You see, I NEED this connection & the cumulative courage of every soul I come in contact with.

On the other side of calamity

Heaven knows, it IS all worth it.

For when a person buys a piece of my heartfelt work, a sample of my soul, a study of my life, they will gain much, much more than they bargained for …They will have cried the cries & smiled the smiles and unknowingly journeyed with me Xx

View from my cab - a truckload of vocal villagers.

Thank you for making space in your day to read my post

PLEASE CONNECT WITH ME ON IG or TWITTER

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#You can read about my tale of eastern enchantment, & love for all things beautiful 'HERE'

#All Writing & Photos by Rani.C (Char)

Merle, Me & A Mansion in the Motherland - The Mystique Of Merle Oberon

2013-12-08T17:21:00.001+11:00

On my first junior jaunt back to India, my garrulous, great-grand-mother regaled me with phantasmagorical tales of spooks & sirens & magical manors with maidens so fair. So 'FAIR' I pondered!... In India? Oh yes, the fairest of fair maidens, some of whom courageously crossed the Indian Ocean to seek fame, fortune & felicity.

Pampered, preserved & conserved on celluloid

I was told of the grand home of a great English screen actress who lived in Kolkata - a home I have searched for on countless occasions (Most likely reduced to dust by now, courtesy of a few mustachioed, man-servants with muscles) & a small curiosity I had been trying to unravel since the words 'Palaces' & 'Silver screen' were planted in my brain.

Not the Oberon Mansion but a crumbling neo-baroque

building-facade in the nicer nooks of Kolkata #

Research indicates that actor Merle Oberon was born in Bombay to an Indian mother & British soldier during occupation (or as it was more commonly referred back then, the days of the British Raj) While this was not 'such' an unusual occurrence for the time, nor too scandalous a revelation for modern times... back then, the progeny of such couplings found themselves caught between cultures, & either elevated or ostracized, depending on the company.

Neon art-work by Nicholas Galanin, echoes offensive signages

found in many public places in India, right up until the 80s *

It is believed, however, being young, ambitious & leveraging her sought-after skin tone & 'masala-mix' beauty, Merle took to the high-seas in the hopes of striking 'Star-Gold' in her new world. Nothing particularly 'new' there, except for what marks this story as particularly tragic. It was not because (like other half castes of her generation) she dubiously concealed her Indian identity, (&, in Merle's case, going to extraordinary lengths to do so) but the fact that the woman she travelled with, & referred to as her 'Ayah' (servant/hired-help) was by way of the Bible, her very own Mother (unbeknownst to anyone else of course, excepting Miss Oberon)!

Douglas Sirk's 'Imitation of Life' sees Sarah-Jane

rejecting her mother's 'colour' & denying their relationship **

The actress, whose soft vulnerability & rarefied radiance shone wildly in 'Wuthering Heights', & who wistfully lured men-folk to her siren-call in nearly every movie she starred in, essentially rejected the exotic essence of her being & for all intents & purposes, was vehemently ashamed of her heritage... Heart-breaking.

'Wuthering Heights' 1939.

Oberon plays the quintessential 'English' Rose

Yes, yes, I know it was but a safe refuge of the time, a legacy of old perceptions & an unwitting survival tactic - but I can't help feeling doleful about it all. Disheartened that such measures had to be taken to extricate oneself from the barbarous associations of a supposedly backward nation.

The Indian Mutiny of 1857

While some were fleeing inequality, others were fighting it ***

Writings proffer that Merle Oberon returned to the Motherland in later life, when the stage-lights dimmed & the need to hide was no longer required... especially as there was nothing left to seek & she was no longer sought.

Living & leaving on the 'low-down'

I wonder whether any peace was had or 'made' with the uncredited lady who 'took care' of the great actress. What sense of self-worth each had, how they reconciled their fine charade & if they felt the price they paid for fame was indeed worth the fortune.

Sizzling & statuesque in a studio still -
Follies Bergere 1935

As for me, I no longer search for the house of the great screen actress in Kolkata. That legend died for me long ago, probably around the time 'hired-help' & 'maid-servant' were planted in my brain... & yet I still adore Merle Oberon as the eponymous Cathy in 'Wuthering Heights'. I muse also at the irony of her many roles where she is cast as the 'exotic' temptress, painted-up, no less, to accentuate her obviously Eurasian features - features she’d have, no doubt, tried to subdue & placate over a lifetime.

Merle perfecting Persian Princess Pose

in 'Night in Paradise' 1946

****EPILOGUE****

Meanwhile, on the other side of the Indian Ocean a little boy & his school mates, waited in breathless anticipation for the hungry hang-glider to touch-down in old Melbourne town. It was 1965, & the delicate contents of that giant, mechanical bird in the sky soon spilled out onto the tarmac in eminent style. Along with the crates, cachets & carriers, came the 'STAR' - small, slim, ivory-skinned & hugged tightly by a foxy-white mink stole...Merle Oberon, advanced in age, though ever charming, strode past with an air of vintage pedigree. The social-studies teacher reminded the now infatuated young boys, it took about 11 hours to fly from Kolkata to Melbourne.

KOLKATA... INDIA... JUNGLE-BOOK! - The mind was on a mission....

# The Maharajah mascot of mechanical elevation

The little boy ran home to his mother & his world atlas, both formidable, frequent fonts of knowledge. He pointed to the bendy Bay of Bengal & pronounced euphorically, 'One day I will visit there. I will ride on an elephant. Catch me a tiger. And find me a wife.'

That little boy was my future husband...
Funny how things work out! Xx

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#All Writing & #Photos by Rani.C (Char)

#Other images taken from 'The Romantic life of Merle Oberon' - Charles Higham & Roy Moseley (Personal Copy). Fanpix.Net & 'ACertainCinema.com'

*Nicholas Galanin Flickr.com

**Screen-Capture from 'Imitation of Life' - Douglas Sirk (Personal Copy)

***From the 'Punch' Victorian Era Cartoon Series 'The Indian Mutiny' (Personal Post-Cards)

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Hands Of An Artisan - Master & Apprentice

2013-06-23T15:59:00.000+10:00

Way back in the day, when individuality, originality & all-encompassing beauty were a prized & ‘Pulitzered’ commodity, certain measures were taken to ensure their incontrovertible uniqueness: some ridiculous, others barbaric, many justifiable. Among the most memorable examples of protecting beauty are the Hollywood starlets of old, who’s limbs of loveliness were insured by their studios for poster-girl posterity - notably, Betty Grable's legs, which were insured with Lloyds of London for a cool million in the 1940’s.

'Pin-up' princess in stone, Konark Temple

Further back in history, fierce competition, pride & privilege sent limbs flying, with legend recounting the outrageous orders of Emperor Shah Jahan (after the completion of the Taj Mahal) to have the right hands of his builders CUT CLEAR OFF!! Similar anecdotes concern Ivan the Terrible in Russia & Prague’s Astronomical Clock - where Hanuš, the clockmaker, was blinded, by order of the realm, to avoid his work ever being repeated.

Master 'pattachitra' painter at Puri,

Raghurajpur artist-village

Drawn directly with a brush

using natural colours, no outline

Setting gold in a Jewellery die

Truth or tall-tale, such was the passion & reverence for artistry, creativity & ingenuity, that people could not bear the thought of duplication or imitation…nay, imitation was not flattering at all…it was downright disloyal & akin to the most serious crime. Born of this age-old need to protect intellectual & artistic property, of course, comes the present day trademark, label, patent & copyright.

Master 'Iron-Man'/blacksmith, custom-making
a Rani-Designed frame

Back-breaking rug-making

Metal draw-pulls hand-made for the Palace!

But how do we patent the road-side floral-artist, the village seamstress or even the cobbler? No less artisans, who’ve often learned their skills from a Master, usually Master-Grandparent, & ply their trade, sometimes as lifelong apprentices, with the same finesse & aptitude found in the finest atelier. Where is their insurance policy? What drastic & dramatic measures do we take to preserve & value their incomparable work?

Indian gajra-making - a fine & delicate art

Marigold chains of devotion

Working since a boy, this cobbler is no shoe-in

I don’t suppose in today’s world of monotone, mediocre, morphed & maddening sameness, where fakes flog themselves flagrantly & authentic is a 'flavour' not a virtue. Where work is ‘borrowed’, ‘inspired by’, ‘taken from’, ‘copied to’ & in many, many instances pinched for the purposes of ‘CURATION’ (the modern catchphrase for the oft uncredited)…True value can scarcely be gleaned. Skill comes from devotion & dedication, artistry from feeling, sensation & observation, & discipline from respect for detail & obeisance to our teachers, forefathers/mothers & the like. Value does not come from a lauded label, gormless gimmick or transitory trend, all of which, too often, mask misappropriation. When value is lent to the imposter at the expense of quality, artisanship suffers, true meaning is lost and all is undermined.

Silt from the river-bank

Spun into solid shape

Fired into earthenware

The functional & decorative artisan depends on you - dear patron & connoisseur of beauty, the person with pennies & power to purchase - to see, respect, admire & reward his or her talent & power to create, through the fair exchange of money, supply & demand for quality products in a competitive market, increasingly dominated by inferior look-a-likes...this ensures that, while the privilege is ever yours, POWER will always remain in the palm of their hands…the hands of the talented, knowledgeable, not always upwardly mobile, & often unnoticed, expert Artisan.

Traditional hand-cut Chinese sign-board

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The Trails & Trials of the Subcontinent

2013-05-03T16:54:00.001+10:00

"Exploit a country long enough & watch as the people make slaves, barbarians of themselves & eachother" #

Women are 'Suppressed'. Men are 'Repressed'. And many matriarchs (mother-in-laws especially) 'Oppress'! This is India, definitely Not ALL of it, but much too much of it. I can say this, categorically, being a native of the land, who has spoken, seen & heard, fresh & first-hand, from the curry-bowl.

The issue of sexual violence/dominance/penury (even prudishness) in India is vast, complex & deeply ingrained in the national psyche – a psyche, nonetheless, that NEEDS to be viewed against the backdrop of 1000 years or more of external interference, forceful invasions, brutal foreign control & despotic administrations, Persian/Central-Asian usurpation, Mongolian marauding, colonial subjugation, to name but a few, the last of which stratified (even further) the existing & most abhorrent class & caste-system. All this turbulent activity of 'ransoms, rape & pillage', divisions of power, domination, humiliation… to varying degrees, helped shape, compromise, some may even say, damage India's collective conscience.

The fabric of a society, its sense of self, identity, liberation from subservience/conformity, its unifying pride, gender roles, sexual politics &, inadvertently, the sexual impulse itself are all deeply rooted (no Australian pun intended!) in the notion of FREEDOM. Where freedom & justice are perverted over several generations the personal & social ramifications have far, far reaching consequences, & nearly always found to be deeply disturbing & devastating for generations to come. (One must remember too, India only attained Independence 65 years ago, after centuries of foreign rule, followed by a sustained period of hectic, ungoverned lawlessness.)

“For some days, people thought that India was shaking. But there are always tremors when a great tree falls.”

– Rajiv Gandhi

I have pondered long & deep, ached even, over this land that I love with its litany of striking contradictions & harsh cruelties that present so clearly to even the casual observer - too many to list, too shameful to utter - & like others, I remain ever skimming the surface. I never, however, divert my gaze, & feel it is incumbent upon us to try & understand 'WHY' people do the things they do & how they came to be (no matter how harrowing the detail)…with sufficient context & an adequate accounting of the struggles fought, valleys climbed & deepest oceans crossed. In asking the questions, I’m not in any way absolving the crime, but simply searching for a humane way in which to face the ‘monster’, the evil, the abominable soul of man…call it what you will.

While history can assist in explaining some things, other contributing factors give rise to present-day (real & perceived) problems in India: globalisation & the ‘sordid’ Internet; a meteorically rising middle class; a shift from relative religious tolerance to deeply nationalistic overtones of intolerance (with subsequent demonising & loss of opportunities for minorities); the assertion of liberated, free-thinking, modern Indian women (agents of their own sexy desires & the most confronting & direct break with tradition); a nefarious veil of INTOLERANCE, spilling out into all areas & aspects of life; exploitation of power & position at the highest level; a largely corrupt police force; & a struggling, illiterate, rural population of 'the poorest of the poor'. This great divide, the growing resentments & simmering discontents they engender, could NOT be any greater at anytime, anywhere in the world (except, perhaps, America, which, I must say, India tries its darnedest to ‘LOOK’ like) & sadly, finds its greatest, most pitiful expression, in vile acts towards the vulnerable.

The balance required for an ancient land, with its multitude of complex beliefs & traditions, growing golden-wealth alongside persistent, pernicious poverty, sexual conflicts, confusion & frustrations, heavy political burdens, colonial legacies - emasculated men, highly susceptible women - & somewhat misguided aspirations, is without doubt…Herculean & all, significantly, symptomatic of a loss & reclaiming of CONTROL, however distorted.

***

That Indians (and India) were missionised, marginalised, demoralised, proselytised, polarised & essentially 'burglarised' for centuries has served to arrest & undermine her ‘development’ – socially, economically, psychologically, but interestingly enough, not spiritually. For what else does a nation do, who has herself been continuously raped & plundered, but worship & idolise benevolent gods in the hope of a better, more equitable life.

Of the horrors of today – where the oppressed have now become the oppressor, where freedom has become a ‘free for all’ without consequence, where women are in some ways even more commoditised (in the case of in-laws with growing material cupidity), where children are violated as a consequence of taboo & warped ideas surrounding sex – we condemn & denounce loudly, wildly & without hesitation. We support & commend where liberation & justice are sought &, if connected in any way to this soil, we wait with patience, hope & understanding for the ‘Mother’ to find her steady feet, reach her 'majority' (sexual maturity), defend her 'minorities' (the struggling disenfranchised), break the cycle of domination, censure & brutality & walk forward, unashamedly, with the rest of the world.

"We end today a period of ill fortune, and India discovers herself again. The achievement we celebrate is but a step, an opening of opportunity, to the greater triumphs and achievements that await us. Are we brave enough and wise enough to grasp this opportunity and accept the challenge of the future?" - Independence Day, Jawaharlal Nehru

A quote as relevant today, as it was 65 years ago.

**IMPORTANT CAVEATS**

1) While gender inequality in India existed before Imperialism, so too did it exist in much of the world up to relatively recent times. Some might say the fight still continues in even the most progressive cultures. But the conditions in India, discussed in this essay, further exacerbated & lengthened that struggle for many Indian women in a nation that is desperately trying to catch up.

2) While an extensive rail network & other modern infrastructures were brought about under occupation (seen as positives for India & justifications by the west), the lungs & resources of the nation were utterly destroyed & largely plundered for the purpose of FIRST industrializing the western world.

One need only see the wealth of the west versus the poor & filth of the east to figure this out. So in passing, next time you pull up your 'cotton' boxers or sprinkle 'pepper' over your eggs benedict, give a little ‘holla’ for the homeland that laboured to provide it!

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#All Writing by Rani.C (Char)

#Photos by Rani.Cee: Student Painting 'Gandhi & his people' - Sabarmati Ashram, Gujarat.

#Stone relief, 'Slave Girl' - Kalna Temples, West Bengal.

#'Mughal Wall-Mural' - Shantiniketan, Artist Village, West Bengal.

++Stock-Photos of Kolkata, 1942. Via Postcards from the Indian Museum (Personal Copies)

***Photo by Raghu Rai from, 'India - A Retrospective' Asahi Shimbun (Personal Copy)

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My Kolkata Walk

2013-03-23T14:31:00.000+11:00

There are holidays, & 'holy' days, 'wholeness' days & 'holla-out-loud' days, honeymoons & heavenly hiatus &, of course, your good old fashion, run-of-the-mill, rest & relaxation, sexy vacation. All imply some form of respite, intermission, suspension of duty & recess from the ravishes of everyday life, perhaps even some perfumed-pamper & a little extra five-star-sparkle thrown into the crystal clear waters.

The Hooghly River

I do not travel to INDIA for any of the aforementioned, ney, I tell you, I go there to be: propelled, pummelled, shaken about, spun around, smacked sideways, stunned, stupefied, confounded, confronted, crushed, affronted, assuaged, jolted, jarred, scarred, stared-at, serenaded-to, thwacked-on (by ricocheting spit-balls!) bumped-into, blessed & blithely bothered. In short, I go to experience the full gamut of human experience, of life 'Unfiltered'....a 'Walk of Life', which starts for some, & ends for others, in Kolkata.

The push & pull of industry

The family that works together...

Negotiating the space

Kolkata, that City of questionable 'Joy', that evokes more Dickensian drudgery, than Dalrymple delight, more 'Mother-House' affliction, than multi-fusion menu & more begging black-holes than a quantum-physics symposium. That she is ALL this, and more, makes her so frustratingly fascinating & likeable, people flock to her Hooghly-shores, not to escape the minutiae of life, but to face it.....head on & unapologetically.

The wall of fancy-pants pundits

Tottering trams & tired buildings

Herbaceous road-side vendors

Peaceful Buddhist Shala

Ever wonder where your hair/shaving brushes come from?

The finest goat manes!

Bow Barracks

Door to the 'other' side

Churning chick-pea flour

Old Russian Theatre

Spicy street

While the heaving Howrah Bridge dominates, & august, British-colonial monuments flank the cityscape, as well as lend to it its modern history, it is the interactive alleyways & 'paraganis' (traditional townships), with it's confluence of cultures - British, Persian, Chinese, Armenian, & Portuguese among them, their shapely shrines, mosques & churches, edifying eateries, beguiling bookshops, institutes for 'adda' (political/topical conversation), tireless tailors, wily wallahs, vendors & hawkers, iconic, rickety-rickshaws, scrumptious, sought-after sweetshops, witty, bouncy, Bengali repartee, rolly-polly aunties in shimmering saris & unmatching cardigans, little girls in felicitous frou-frous, paired with non-negotiable Nikes, the elder-spunk in a safari, the young bro' in Gabbana, industrious indie films, lilting literature & fierce, freedom-fighting....that all give this city its soulful, colourful cadence.

Beth El Jewish Synagogue, 1856

The call to prayer caps

Old Portuguese Cathedral, 1799

Bubbly bidi (cigarette) stall &
jolly Bengali belly!

Vanity Fair!
Mirza Ghalib (Freeschool) Street

Dakshineswar Temple

Namaste your Majesty!

The royal residence under renovation

Armenian Church, 1707

Snack time

Puppy-Love

Hindu wedding preparation

100 year-old Chinese tea shop

So, Ok there are also scuzzy dogs & stench-filled drains, pesky touts & clambering charlatans, roving eyes & ridiculous poverty, not to mention a swelling, swarm of 22 million sonorous souls all vying for that same cup of chai...but there's a story for ALL of that &, if you're interested & willing to rise above otherwise preconceived notions, relatively privileged lives & necessary sanitary proclivities, able to stomach the sensory intensity & digest the inescapable iniquities......you might just get a far more gratifying & graceful picture of this grand & life-giving megalopolitan.

The poor

The industrious

The hungry

The iconic

Don't expect though, to see a beautiful city.....if anything, she is a shambolic mess of snazzy new cars, overwhelmed infrastructure, whiteness cream, dreams, fumes & aspiration. Kolkata tests & beckons you to forage for her 'beauty', weed it out, blow off the refuse, paint it a new colour, reinterpret the concept, pack it away.........then carry it in your heart, veins & lungs, for a lifetime.

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The Flower Of Power And Perpetuity

2013-01-24T16:29:00.000+11:00

‘I forbid you to wear that floral get-up!’...said no Great-Grandmother, ever, in the history of Grannydom; well, at least NOT the fashionable ones. Yes, fashionable I tell you, for Nana was onto a good thing. As she waltzed around the room in the arms of her buoyant beau, a vision of verdant whimsy, with a ‘festival of flowers’ festooned on her frock……no one could know, this delicate damsel in designers, was a ‘keeper’….or at least, her DRESS was!

C.1954 Hubert de Givenchy's vine-embroidered gown.

C.1750 Coromandel-Coast printed linen Petticoat **

The budding rose, the creeper divine – bulging, bursting fruits of the forest & orchids in animated orbit – were the patterned picks of the day……& they liked to go by their foxy, Indo-European name 'CHINTZ'

Section of an early 18th.C wall-hanging.
(*All chintz pieces presented here were produced in the Coromandel-Coast, India)

(Rani's own reproduction chintz)
Section of a 17th.C chintz floor-covering from Khandesh*.
Cotton print purchased at the Calico Museum, Ahmedabad

Black-iron, Indigo & 'Chay'

While in modern parlance ‘Chintz’ has been used to describe any floral print, painting or embroidery, on cloth, ceramics, etc. – & to some extent, bandied about disparagingly, when confronted by gaudy, florid patterns & psychedelic petal perversions – its true mien is multi-fold. Traditional ‘chintz’ (a corruption of the North Indian word ‘chint’, meaning ‘to spray’) describes both the process & characteristic motifs of this 17^th century, Indian, textile phenomenon.

Fancy cornucopia on a 17th.C

bedsheet, incorporating yellow resist dye

21st.C reproduction chintz-style embroidery

by the good Sisters of St Mary's, Amhedabad*

THE PROCESS

Designs, hand drawn with a bamboo pen (‘kalam’) onto calico (namesake of the city Calicut in Kerala, where the material derives), were filled in with colour, using natural dyes of black-iron mordant, indigo & red ‘chay’ (clay), one layer at a time, speckled or sprayed by hand, then made resistant via a dual technique of waxing & glazing.

Early samples of chintz production

A process of steeping the fabrics in a mixture of acidic buffalo’s milk & a native plum, helped ‘fix’ the colours, while bleaching in dung (yes, dung!) ‘set’ the patterns. A good thrashing with the naughty stick (mallet) gave the fabric a luxurious lustre. This complex, bare-handed, hip-slipping, back-cracking process was repeated numerous times on the one fabric to produce intricate, multi-toned chintz.

C.1725 Section of a tent-lining

The designs themselves were a continuance of Hindu/Islamic devotion to the beauty of the natural world; organic shapes, flowers, botanics, vibrant tones, rich textures.
The fruit of these efforts? Strikingly beautiful, sturdy, sumptuous bed-covers, drapes & floor-coverings. A fertile, textile treasure-garden had indeed germinated.

C.1750 Wall-hanging made for the french market

THE PLAYERS

It wasn’t too long before the French, English, Portuguese & Dutch traders, already hooked & high on the ‘spice’ of the subcontinent, sniffed on the smelling-salts of another opulent opportunity. As early as 1600, they were sending Indian Chintz samples to Europe for reproduction. Of course the labour-intensive methods could not be reproduced & were instead replaced by inferior, mass-produced mimics. This did not pass the royal requisites of fashion-forward females of the day, who wanted the ‘real-Indian-deal’. So, with demented demand at hand and discerning buyer afoot, export from India for the Western market, still limited & hugely valuable, became de rigueur.

C.1710 Small Yoke/Blouse made from a wall-hanging

for the Dutch Market

By the late 17^th, early 18^thCentury, chintz hailed & prevailed, becoming increasingly customised & refined for French & English upper-class tastes. Different royal insignia, French/English fauna & flora, etc. were incorporated….at first flaunted as home furnishings, but soon escalating to essential ‘closet couture’.

C.1760 Linen waistcoat

C.1725 Coat of arms, pegasus &

crest, featured on a wall-hanging

THE POSERS

Every person of prominence & position, from Queen Victoria and Marie Antoinette, right down to Madame Pompadour herself, sashayed & cavorted in chintz. It was the ultimate apparel for the Euro style-o-phile; exclusive, exotic &, make no bones about it, an exuberant display of one of the most profitable & propitious exploits of the East-India Company.

Francois-Hubert Drouais, 'Mdme de Pompadour'

Wearing Chintz garment. Oil on Canvas C.1764

C.1780 Jacket & Petticoat

C.1750 Section of a bedspread made from cotton petticoat linings

THE DECLINE

Though chintz production enjoyed considerable popularity for a generation or two, it was banned from import to Europe several times due to its threat to local mills. Ultimately, the invention of commercial roller printing saw to the demise of traditional, authentic Indian manufacture & trade.

C.1720 Section of a small, brightly colored cloth

made for the Dutch market

'Jute-Garden' 'OneRoseOneRuby' shop's

block-print, chintz cushion*

THE LEGACY
Indian chintz, & the demand for it in the 17^th & 18^th centuries, triggered massive international trade, stimulated economies, governed fashions, dictated class & clique and fuelled parliamentary debates, illegal shipments (when outlawed), chastened confiscations & other scintillating scandals. It also left the legacy of a reference to ‘flower-power’ in fashion & furnishings in almost every decade since. This then spurned a love or loathing toward the humble, floral flounce or flourish.

Mid 18th.C woman's Jacket

Rani's retro, 1960's, floral shift-dress*

Chintz upholstery at Chateau de Cheverny, C.18th - Loire Valley #

THE FUTURE

In recent times ‘chintz’ patterns have remerged as a baroque breath of fresh air in the world of predominantly minimalist interior design and fashion; from embellished, floral, brocade pants that bloom in boutiques to damask flower & fruit-vined wallpapers that wow the ritziest hotels.

Henry Wilson's

contemporary chintz wall-paper**

Young debutantes too are re-entering the world of herbaceous-patterned long hems, twirling madly to funky tunes in flowery, flowing frocks. Perhaps, even holding on for dear life to Great Gran’s blossomed ball-gown, never again to snigger at the delicacy or ‘out-datedness’ of patterns that once danced rapturously to the strings of a different instrument;.......& all in the shadow of a distant artisan, who created them with his bare hands.

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#Main images taken from 'Chintz - Indian textiles for the west', By Rosemary Crill (Personal Copy)

#Travel Photo

*Photos from the 'House of Rani'

**Images taken from 'Elle-Decor' - Celebrating India, Collector's Edition. (Personal copy)

#All Writing & Photography by Rani.C (Char)

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A Prince among men.......

2012-10-24T00:25:00.000+11:00

# # #

There have been mighty kings, fierce warriors & chivalrous knights, those who forged great empires in their sleep, felled foes for breakfast & dazzled a damsel or two at dinner....so too, princes who pounced & poets who brooded, men seeking knowledge & beauty, others only pomp & power....yet, few among these could lace a boot, petit-point a cushion or give a jolly toss for the finer elements of 'House & Palace'......that was the stuff of ladies, that is until.....'Henry Wilson'. Sure, there are countless, caravans full of creative men.....but for the 'Indophile', there is only one. To the unacquainted, Mr Wilson is a notable photographer, designer, writer & interminable interior-design-guru with a singular appetite & appreciation for all things India.

* * *

While Henry's design books are widely available & showcase the gloriously rich, colourful & diverse interiors of India lovers, lesser known & viewed, perhaps, are photographs of his own heavenly abode. Below, you can take an exalted walk through his magnificent, (self-styled) majestic kingdom.

Holy Maharajah!

Wall-to-wall wondrous wallpaper*

Mhmm, he sews!

Luxurious velvet cushions with

'petit-point' stitch*

Regal is as regal does

Beaded skirting & gilded door-ways*

It is not uncommon in many Indian Palaces & homes, to find every square inch of space, carved, painted, tiled, tinseled, mosaiced, marbled, furnished, fussed-over, rugged, 'joojed', color-strewn & bedazzled. It is merely a part of the Indian aesthetic to 'layer-on' the love & adornment. There is a sense of intimacy that comes with this.......knowing that nothing has been overlooked, neglected or given that extra regal touch.

Deep jewel-toned walls of warmth...

Yes your Majesty!*

Pomegranate vines & dramatic contrasts*

Gold, sandstone & wood

for his OR her 'Palace'*

Vibrant & earthy, characterize

the stylish Indian home*

No Rani or Indian-Interior enthusiast need face life without a little piece of style on their dial. 'India design' & 'India contemporary ' by Henry Wilson are staples of lavish livelihood & I have spent many an evening drowning deliciously into the pages of both. Few wouldn't be intrigued by his keen eye for colour & detail & none unaffected by his bold & imaginative celebration of the Subcontinent - layer upon layer of vibrancy, design, history & ideas, all melded into the perfect decorative soup.

A bath & a half!

Interesting tribal & geometric designs

add masculinity*

A cosy kitchen-bench of

Henry's stencils*

# # #

Style sensibilities are so personal & individual, rendering it nigh impossible to say who or what's best....all possess the genius to beautify & enhance, but only some have that rare ability to exploit the imagination, give expression to it in the most abundant & complex way. I've known a chap or two in my time who have each created a rare item of beauty, but I tell you sincerely, a man who can decorate, match a paint to a tile & loop a thread through the eye of a needle.....is truly a man worth knowing.

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**************************************************

# Photos from the 'House of Rani'

* Other images taken from 'Elle-Decor' - Celebrating India, Collector's Edition. (Personal copy)

#All Writing & Photography by Rani.C (Char)

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Collections & Reflections

2012-08-23T22:37:00.004+10:00

To whomever wrote 'A thing in & of itself is sufficient ', (i.e., one thing is enough), while I mostly adhere to the principle & honor the sentiment, I need, at this precise & divine moment, to fully shut-out such thoughts......because here comes Rani in her chariot of clinking, clanking collectibles, happy as hell & unlikely to ever get off!

One genie's lamp does look dashing,

but 10 in a row takes you to Turkmenistan #

Oh, the joy of a colourful new 'find' to christen a solitary interior space or, even better, to add to a bevvy of existing beauties. Any decorative house, homestead or Palace can attest to the cumulative bliss of a spectacular collection. Items that stand soulfully on their own, when placed together, create a splash & a symphony.

Yes, I'll take 15 pairs thanks

There's no doubting the fact that placing, spacing, styling & arranging beloved items of worth &/or sentiment creates a wondrous visual story. Whether it be the perfect alignment of tea-pots in a row or the seeming disarray of a pile of oriental shoes. What matters most is the theme, the element of quirk, of whimsy, that circular path of interest that propelled your passion in the first place.

A cornucopia of copper, bells & brass #

Mixed metals for the Maharajah

Collections of any kind exhibit keen, if not astute, interest. From modest, artful home displays to powerful posturings of wealth. Which Palace or stately home ever failed to impress with its fine gatherings of silver, armoury, furniture, glass-ware, brass-ware, pewter & paintings? Collections that speak of grand-eloquence & the history of ages. From the Russian Hermitage all the way to the magnificent Topcapi Palace of Istanbul.

Coloured glass of varying sizes & aperitifs

Some collections, however, need not be palace-guarded. They can take shape using virtually anything. Items of common material, colour, cultural interest, size, texture, pattern, era, theme, function, sentiment......& infinite other inspirations.

Turkish tiles of distinction

No object of beauty was ever diminished when placed side by side in Rani's Palace

A selection & 'collection' of coffee-table books

Roses of Ribbon

In keeping with my palace textile passions & collections, rolls of trim & ravishing ribbons, make for beautiful floral substitutes & displays. Pile high into glasses, vases & brass cups.

Maharani's mountain of cushions

A mass of marvellous, mosaic tea-light holders #

Whether it be the simplest decor items or the most highly collectible, a discerning art collector or a lover of modest, market buys.....all can create a tableaux of equal impact & sophistication.

No Palace would be complete without

vintage perfume collection

Such is our nature to want to repeat the thrill of a first-time buy, to partner, pair & place together pretty items of import & significance, to add value to them by 'arrangement', to reflect upon each with fondness & love, to tell a story, create a lasting impression....& for those among us with a penchant for veritable 'altars' of admirable adornment, the temptation to keep adding to our decor-family is always irresistible & never, ever 'entirely' sufficient.

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*All images are from inside the 'House of Rani' except (#) which are my personal travel photos.

#All Writing & Photography by Rani.C (Char)

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Every pilgrim's home is their Palace

2012-06-17T20:08:00.003+10:00

# # #

Those who are an intimate to the Rani know it is with not too little irony that her humble abode is referred to as a 'Palace'.......the irony lies in the fact, that in actuality, it is but a small, unassuming, unintentionally sparkling spot on a busy highway (not exactly the sprawling desert setting of ones dreams!) Yet neither its tiny size, nor its positioning, diminishes its individual 'grandeur' or its ability to keep friends coming back, time & time again, for a little piece of 'Palace-Pleasure'.

Do valuable saris, size, silks & sequence

maketh a palace?

It got me pondering common notions of grandeur, wealth & beauty - particularly after one very gormless guest to the Palace squealed at how 'small' it was (a reaction that betrayed a certain condescension, namely 'If it ain't the Taj Mahal, it just ain't special'). She now languishes in the 'tiny' Palace dungeon!. I hitherto came to regard the pervasive idea that 'Grandness' derives solely from the proportions of a dwelling & the expensive contents of it's corners as pure, palatial, puffery.

Grand Bhavan / Ashram of Rabindranath Tagore #

Sure the Versailles, Winter Palaces & stately homes of this world fill our hearts to the brim with 'decor'-ous rapture (& our mouths too heavy with lead, forcing them to the floor!). But so too do the lovingly filled, small & modestly furnished homes of those less fortunate, but no less rich, in creativity.

Stunning painted interior of a tribal hut #

Seems what the pocket forgot, the imagination makes up for. All across the Orient, & world at large, there are boundless examples of decorative dexterity that rival the grandest of palaces.

Bright blue & red washed walls

add some drama to the ordinary #

Happily discarded becomes

happily included #

Pots, painting, plaster & textiles

Pedestrian or palace-worthy? #

A one-room wonder-hut #

Tiny house-caves in Cappadocia,Turkey #

A bag & a blanket

The pilgrims prize essentials #

While tribal arts are all the rage in the western world, they reflect a lifestyle of near-often, subsistence living for the artisans. The importance of these crafts for the continuance of culture, history & survival is often taken for granted. These simple, yet beautiful & inexplicably intricate textiles & crafts, indeed 'furnish', lend character, texture & warmth to earthen, modest spaces, & are also bartered in marriage as prized possessions.

All that glitters is NOT gold #

Camel couture as palace regalia!

It is these 'possessions' that come into focus. For how does one put a value on what is most 'valued' by any given individual. Utilitarian utensils, toys, paper, bottles, tops & other objects are routinely collected & used in novel, innovative ways to create colour, character & ambiance, often culminating in eye-catching displays of creative wealth & ingenuity.

* * *

Disused light-bulbs, painted pots & glass,

bindis & boxes, turbans & tea-strainers all take centre stage.

Recycling, up-cycling & all the other latest trends, owe a debt to centuries of resourceful artistry.

To the Rani, richness, grandness, palatial living are all a matter of perception, if not imagination. It comes from a sense of knowing oneself & one's place in the world. A sense of history & geography, culture & economy, of wanting more but accepting & cherishing less. From understanding the gap between inspiration & aspiration, reconciling that difference, then sitting back comfortably in one's little Palace, safe in the knowledge that what you have, what you've worked for & created, is surely enough.

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*All images are from inside the 'House of Rani' except (#) which are my personal travel photos.

(***) Is a collage created by Rani using photos from 'Rajasthan' by Pauline Lynden & 'Indian Interiors' by Taschen books. Both copies owned by Rani.

#All Writing & Photography by Rani.C (Char)

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The Princess & the Peacock

2012-05-15T11:53:00.019+10:00

*MPW featured in 'An Indian Summer'

From time immemorial, the peacock has been regarded as a highly symbolic bird. Exotic & vain, with a plume so dazzling, even humans gush & blush brightly. Its symbolism is steeped in centuries of noble decadence, glory & excesses, with the ancient Greeks attributing to it power & caution, the Indians, knowledge & compassion, & the Persians, royal guardianship. Is it any wonder then, the Grand Palaces of the past rendered the pretty pheasant to 'domestic deity' status?....a garden pet of flaunting, racy, regal magnificence.

# # #
Who's a pretty peacock?

The vibrant, iridescent feathers of the peacock, not only illuminated the manicured lawns of the Royals, but also served as the perfect decorative feature to their bold, sumptuous interiors & exteriors, by way of painted motifs, tiles, sculptures & more........

# # #
Precious peacock gateway, Jaipur Palace

# # #

Painted peacock tiles, Bundi Palace

# # #
Velvet peacock tapestry.

Ephesian stately home, Turkey

Nothing speaks Mesopotamian-magic louder than pretty peacock feathers & other peacock paraphernalia. Plonk a partial plumage into a vase today & you'll have yourself a tiny slice of Cleopatra's Crib, Zeus' Ancient Acropolis or even Rani's heavenly Palace!

Long stems, short stems or

baby plumes, all create a

magical, whimsical feel

Dainty marble peacock coasters

Serving it up, Palace style

Large peacock-feather earrings

hung from bamboo-reed blind

The striking blues, greens & golds of the peafowl (a perfect combination of primary colours ordained by the Gods) blend brilliantly with earthy browns, yellows, pinks & sandstones, as well as contrasting strikingly against white, black & navy.

Peacock-fans of handy handbag size to

full-body frou-frou, elevate any interior

Colourful devotional deity
'Lord Murugan' with peacock

* * *
Peacocks emblazoned on white
village walls in Rajasthan

The Rani (and other 'bonafide' Princesses before her) has lived and luxuriated happily amidst the sublimely hued feathers of the peacock, been protected from the evil eye & passionately propelled towards knowledge, beauty & compassion. Bold & enigmatic, it takes confidence to style with these colours & items -- especially given such popular beliefs as 'blue & green should not be seen'. I would hazard a guess, whoever uttered these eternal words, never had the privilege of witnessing the seductive, magnetic power of the Regal Peacock on 'display'....in its manifold varieties & exuberant expressions, in either home, garden, zoo or Princess Palace!

*Rani's Palace on 'An Indian Summer'

http://anindiansummer-design.blogspot.in/2012/05/rani-amrita-and-shawn.html

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*All images are from inside the 'House of Rani' except ###, which are my personal travel photos, and ***, which is courtesy of Gill Davies' 'Spirit of India'.

#All Writing & Photography by Rani.C (Char)

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Crazy for Paisley

2012-04-01T18:57:00.015+10:00

*Recently featured front page of the Top Morocco Daily*

Seems ever since the Rani was knee-high to a golden foot-stool, a love for all things decorative & decadent has consumed her every waking thought & deed. From climbing up curtains, age 3, for the express purpose of attaching Mother's diamante clips to the pleats & folds, to attacking any white-washed wall within a mile, with crayons of every hue & fancy (resulting often in a light pat to the tush!), to plastering a whole library of books with fabric, glittering stars & flower-power motifs. And while this may describe the life & times of many a young'en, for Baby Rani, however, these were more than just the musings of girly youth.......these were the early expressions of interior decorating gone mad & a deep-rooted connection to her history. The need to adorn, embellish, 'make ones mark' so to speak........is, as the Rani will share, older than time itself.

Divined into wood-block

Earliest amongst those with this desire have been nomadic tribal groups, groups who have historically used the decorative tool to beautify, enhance &, above all else, 'communicate'. The 'Adivasis' of Northern India, illiterate as they were, devised an inventive marking, using the clenched fist, dipped into paint & pressed side-down to a surface.......a design that signaled their cast, creed & individuality. This design would come to be known (courtesy of the East-India Company & the weavers of a certain little Scottish town) as the iconic, indispensable, highly ornate & sensual 'Paisley'.

Rani's cotton, paisley bed-spread

Few patterns so vividly evoke the exotic, sumptuous style & grace of Indian arts & crafts. The Rani has been hypnotised since childhood. A true disciple of the lusciously curved 'droplet', who has incorporated the pattern into many of her own creations, not to mention wrapping her whole Palace in various interpretations of it.

See & judge for yourself the level of her Paisley madness!

Crepe-chiffon sari curtain with decorative floral/paisley borders

Pretty paisley detail

1960's vintage dress material with luminous paisley applique, used to upholster old drawers.

Cut, stretched, folded, tucked & tacked by yours truly!

Silk/cotton, paisley-covered photo-album.

Made with love by yours truly.

Wrapping history with history!

Psychadelic scarves of paisley distinction,

& lastly

My 'OneRoseOneRuby' shop's tribute to paisley

Above items can all be bought

from my On-Line Shop

(Click on tabs at top of page)

From the ancient Egyptians, right through to graffiti artists of today, a sign, a symbol, a flourish has captured & engaged us, started a dialogue & been the inspiration that has triggered more creative impulses. With her finger firmly on that pulse & a crazy passion for paisley.....the Rani's palace continues to positively vibrate!

#Committed to paisley?

Do let the Rani know of any paisley invasions or manifestations going on at your Palace; in word or image.....the more divine 'droplets' the better!

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*All images from inside the 'House of Rani'

#All Writing & Photography by Rani.C (Char)

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Put a trim on it.....

2012-03-23T20:27:00.018+11:00

*MPW gets a warm mention on American artist Christine Mason Miller's website*

Heaven help me, the Rani is certainly no hootin, tootin, gun-totin 'Calamity Jane', but if there's one pistol she's happy to carry around in her bejewelled holster, smoking & ready to use at a moment's notice......it would be her ever-lovin, ever-faithful, all-purpose, hot-action glue gun! One shot to any surface, a bit of heavenly bonding & BAM...........instant palace-couture!

1 piece floral trim +
$3 wooden frame = Hey Presto!

Encasing the Imperial images in a style
to which they've grown accustom

Did you not see the Maharajah
happily twirl his magnificent moustache?

The need to improvise & economize in hard financial times, means even the Rani has had to employ a bit of imagination & wiliness to achieve some courtly appeal.

The Rani is particularly fond of mixing retro fabrics, such as this 1970's hipster-swirl 'shirt' fabric (Yes, you heard right, shirt fabric!) with Indian Jari borders. Different textures & patterns make a throw-cover, so much more pleasurable to pounce on.

1960's, second-hand, foot-stool given the hot-glue-gun treatment. Scalloped-lace, ivory tassel glued over original upholstery, with a bit of Rani-pink beaded-trim for contrast & effect.......Only royally loyal feet, will now be placed on this!

A mirror of Rani's making & reflection. To bring a little dimension & colour to the mix, some faux-pearl strands have been glued on.

Many a time (as I'm sure you all have) I have received or ordered an item I wasn't entirely thrilled with. Neither ready to dip in gold nor toss in the river - which Ranis don't do for environmental reasons - a good compromise is to fashion the item into something you'd prefer. As with the mirror above.......a small addition of shine & colour turned a 'nice' piece into a 'dazzling' one. Not expensive & completely salvageable for the Palace.

1 Indian tunic too small (because Rani ate too much cake last Christmas & every subsequent day since!!), cut down the middle, arms snipped, silver cotton-wire trim added & Ravi's your Uncle!...ready to use as a runner or wall decoration.

While some hand-sewing can also be employed, & certainly should, for more delicate & expensive materials, the squeezy glue-gun often bonds tinsel trims and the like much better & lasts longer too. But if truth be told, it's the fact that it is a considerably faster method for embellishing that keeps the Rani so firmly attached to her glue-gun holster. More time, means more shimmies around the palace, searching, looking, hoping for other fading glories.........to put a trim on.

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*All images are from inside the 'House of Rani'

#All Writing & Photography by Rani.C (Char)

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Let there be light

2012-01-29T10:09:00.000+11:00

There are two distinct types of 'lighting lovers' - those who love the 'brightness' and those who love the 'darkness'. And by 'darkness' I refer to the kind of soft, dappled ambience of a Mosque, at-day-break...........NOT the 'Occult Of Satan Kind'! Though many people do fall somewhere in the middle; turning the glow up or down, on or off, depending on the mood or occasion. Regardless of one's preference, one thing remains for sure.............the lighting in a room, can make or break it. It frames & gives focus, can take you to the stars and beyond, sets the tone for romance or equally kills the moment, should the glare be too garish! A spectacular light or lamp is like a beautiful Maharani, your eyes are drawn to her, the moment you step into a room.

PRESENTING

'Miss Morocco'

Contoured, earthy & elegant

'Miss Egypt'

Luminous, veiled & mysterious

'Miss Turkey'

Traditional, handsome & sophisticated

'Miss India'

Sparkly, ornate & decorative 

'Miss Indonesia'

Strong, balanced & intricate

Mix your lighting styles for maximum impact. (Go global if particularly fearless) You could simply or dramatically emphasize a shy corner of a room with a vibrant, stand-alone lamp or illuminate the entire space with a collection of small, hanging lanterns (see below) Keep to scale of course; gigantic fixtures for mammoth palaces & modest fixtures for smaller palaces etc...but there are really no hard & fast rules. As long as your lighting transcends the space it occupies & exudes a warmth & intimacy befitting of a 'Miss Maharani', I'd say you're on the right & regal track.

'Miss, Give-me-$10,000!'
# # #
Show room or Palace room?

You choose.

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#All images are from inside the 'House of Rani', except (###) which are my personal travel photos

#All Writing & Photography by Rani.C (Char)

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The mighty Toran

2011-12-16T14:54:00.000+11:00

Just when you thought your Palace was replete, with all the shiny, shimmering bits & pieces necessary to dazzle even the most reticent palace walker......your eye suddenly skims over the lonely, naked, architrave of a window, crying out for the 'once - over' - Royal treatment. Enter the 'Toran' - a heavenly gift of craftsmanship, designed to beautify & enhance any doorway, gateway, archway, 'window-way'.....& quite frankly, any 'way' you'd like it!

Traditional Gujarati, cotton,

tribal-pattern, Toran

As the sun sets, a pretty silhouette emerges.

A kitchen window with flavour!

Sequenced cotton over bamboo screen, framed by a toran.

Even the smallest room in the house deserves some Palace pizazz.

An 'improvised' Toran.

Egyptian, belly-dancing skirt,

sparkles to effect.

Terracotta & Bronze

Ganesh with bells, Toran.

Torans indicate happiness

and prosperity.The Maharani then, is

positively giddy!!

If like the Maharani, you adore a bit of 'tinkle' with your 'sparkle' and unable to find Indian bell Torans........decorative wind-chimes can be modified and substituted.

Curtain-ties can also be used, to add a touch of elegance, without the effort or cost of upholstering a whole window pelmet.

More bells for the Maharani.

For the truly adventurous among you - flower leis, exotic beads or strips of silky ribbon are equally prized for creating something stately & spectacular. If you love the decorative, festive feel of the 'mighty toran', don't want to wait for an 'occasion' & feel compelled to get your 'shimmy-on' this instant...........then, dash out right now, collect your coins, your crafts, your thoughts & get creative ..........................only the sky & the Palace tower's the limit.

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#All images are from inside the 'House of Rani' except (###) which is a personal travel photo.

#All Writing & Photography by Rani.C (Char)

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5 & a 1/2 Meters of Heaven

2011-10-22T16:25:00.000+11:00

From now until................'Kingdom Come', I shall be singing heavenly praise to the wondrous, beauteous, indespensible & iconic Indian Sari. Not solely for the fact that it continues to be the preferred garment in an everchanging & increasingly cosmopolitan India, but also because of its variety, versatility and synonomous connection with the colour & vibrance of the Mother-Land. In terms of sari uses in the home..........well, where does one start and finish? The Maharani simply lives, loves, dreams and breathes the equisite yardage.

The Sequenced 'SARI-CUSHION'

A Palace staple 'Par Excellence'...................

but lets now give devotion to a bit of 'Sari-Heaven', in it's other incarnations..........

The 'SARI-CURTAIN'. Fancy & fabulous,

in any room & in any fabric.

The 'SARI-TURNED-RUNNER'

Covers tables, cabinets,&

other un-glamorous surfaces.

The 'SARI-FOR-FRILLS-&-THRILLS'

Maharani's day-bed.

Love is in the billowing detail.

Fallen out of love with an old cupboard or book case ?.............don't fret............a simple white sari can refresh, glamour-fy & add panache. A few antique upholstery tacks, some rudimentary folding & tucking skills & voila!........20 minutes later, you've got yourself an elegant, new & distinctive look.

The 'INSTANT-FACELIFT-SARI'

Don't hate me for my freshness!

Intricate sari embroidery.
Plainness is not acceptable
in the Palace!

Corner of a reinforced, embroidered 'SARI-MAT'

Too pretty to step on, unless wearing your silky socks..........but nonetheless, worthy of a Palace interior....................
Now that we've paid homage (& shall surely return to this topic at a later date) it's time to adorn yourself in a magnificent sari, lay back on your sari-clad, day-bed..........rest upon your soft, sari-cushions and dream of what you'll do, with your next 5 1/2 meters of heaven.

Sari, Sari on the wall......

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#All images from inside the'House of Rani'

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Pink appreciation day

2011-09-25T21:30:00.000+10:00

For many, the word 'Pink', summons frightful memories of frilly, childhood tutus & "oh-so-wrong" frosted pink lipstick, matchy-matchy (bubble-gum-pink) outfits with your sister/maybe even your brother (bet he's had some therapy!) not to mention that whole 80's thing - certifiably-bad, flourescent-pink socks, leotards & head-bands & lest we forget those fluffy 'hot'-pink leg warmers (you confidently worked, over pink denim jeans!).....Umm, no wonder many of us shunned 'Pinkness' for a few decades. Hopefully, now that the trauma has subsided, we can move into a fully realized love-affair with the strong jewel & delicate blush tones of the ever fanciful & fabulous 'Pink'.

Magenta pink threadwork

on a delightful Tunisian ottoman.

I can think of no other colour that better encapsulates the essence of femininity & sensuality. Pink, is 'the' quintessential colour of Indian decor & features strongly in many a Morrocan, Mexican or Mandalayan home too..........from vibrant magenta bed spreads to brilliant boganvillia-pink cushion covers.........

A montage of heavenly

pink things.

......elegant musk or petal-pink walls, ornaments & flowers......not to mention Rani-pink, throw covers & sheer saris, that tantalize, capture the imagination & perhaps induce a rosy blush to the cheeks too.

The sheerest, shiniest, shimmiest,
silk-voile sari in 'babyest' pink.

Rose-pink, silk, orchid flowers

Of course a palate of pink 'fresh flowers' are ideal.......& the Maharani makes a point of ordering colourful blooms when in season.

A delectable, mixed pink/orange rose bouquet.

From a discreet admirer of the Maharani.

Bless!

Fuschia-pink Ali Baba cushion,

gold accents & Jute.
Take me to the Bazaar Now!!

Try to expand your pink repetoire. If unsure of which shades to put together.............just take a flying leap into boldness & blend them all! You will achieve a sublime depth of tone & explosion of colour like no other.......vary your textures and 'lift' the tableaux with a lighter accent colour; such as cream, lemon, mint-green, or lilac......the possibilities are endless.

So much pink, So little time.

Medium-pink,Boganvillia-pink

Raspberry-pink & Cream.

All bonding in the one space.

Voila!

Never forget to revel in your creativity & point of difference. Roll around on that carpet, like a Maharani does & soak up the luxurious, vibrant, ambience. Love that pink - & worship it daily.....long may 'Pink' live to brighten up our homes and our hearts.

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And a truckload of gold

2011-08-05T14:31:00.000+10:00

Do not, I repeat, do not be afraid of the colour gold. No self-respecting Maharaja or modern-day princess would ever be seen without a truckload of its metallic namesake adorning the neck, ears, fingers and toes. Not to mention said-coloured fabrics lining their wardrobes and hanging from their ceilings. Sparkle and shine need not however, equal gaudiness. Nor should it be limited to personal adornment. Gold (and silver for that matter) make a rich and alluring accent colour to any space. Think fuschia and gold, red, black and gold, turquoise and gold, white, ivory and beige with a thread of gold/silver running through it, or simple royal-blue curtains, enveloped by a glorious, golden, tassel-tie-back, taking it from 'meh'...to magnificent in an instant. I sometimes hear people say, 'I dont know what colour goes well with purple,' or 'What would bring together this peach and silver material?'...........................One word.........................'GOLD'

Gold, olive-floral & purple silk/brocade sari curtains with antique, silver beaded tie back. Sewn lovingly (including Venetian trim) by yours Truly.

Border detail of curtain

Tricolour forest green, silver & gold,1960's crepe/lame' dress-material and gold sequence fabric (bought in retro fabric store, fashioned by me into cushion covers). The 'paisley-vine' design, lends itself perfectly to the exotic feel and adds pattern and warmth to a room.You have to love the psychadelic 60's.

Exquisite'Zaree' (Gold & Silver thread) bridal sari - used irreverantly as a valance. May the Gods of decor forgive me!

Throw any colour into this mix and watch your decor come alive.

Section of a divine, vintage, Rajasthani tapestry. Floral embroidered-detail, using predominantly gold & silver thread. Hours of labour for the artisans, but a lifetime of viewing pleasure for me!

I myself would love to be dipped in gold, and the Maharajah gives a 51-gun salute to all who go forth, golden and emboldened. So don't wait....................Be bold........................Go Gold!

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