Chanel and Billy Baldwin: A Cosmic Connection?

I'm big on signs. Not signs as in signage, but rather an indication that something is meant to be. You know, like there are no such things as coincidences. That kind of thing.

So late last week, I received an email telling me that Chanel has a new fragrance, Beige. Now, when some companies use the word beige to describe a product, you can be fairly certain that it's dull. Kind of dingy and like dishwater. But when Chanel uses Beige as the moniker for their new fragrance, well, it seems kind of chic. There's beige, and there's beige. You know what I mean?

Interestingly enough, the first thing to pop into my head- after the thought of "Wow, Chanel has a new fragrance", of course- was the image of Kitty Miller's London living room as decorated by Billy Baldwin. There's beige in that room, but there is nothing vanilla about it. That room sizzles in an elegant kind of way. I always said that if I were to go neutral in my home, I would use the Kitty Miller room as inspiration.



My favorite beige room ever, that of Kitty Miller.


And then, guess what arrived in the mail later that day? The review copy of Billy Baldwin: The Great American Decorator by Adam Lewis. I've been anxiously awaiting this book as has everyone else. I'm in the thick of it as we speak, and it's good. Really good. Lewis notes that this book completes his trilogy on what has to be the most talented group of friends ever: Van Day Truex, Albert Hadley, and Baldwin. I revere all three.



A new favorite book.


What's interesting is that I associate the word beige with Baldwin. Sure, Baldwin used some beige in his own apartment and in projects for others, but he also loved color. Really intense color. And he was quite good with it. It was Truex who was the master of beige. In fact, Lewis writes that Baldwin once said "Someday Van is going to beige himself to death."

Truex's beige living room; certainly not deathly looking to me.


So, what's the sign here? Does all of this portend that I'm supposed to go beige in my apartment? Maybe, but my high-gloss Farrow & Ball blue walls cost a fortune, and I'm not changing them anytime soon. Perhaps I should start wearing the new Chanel fragrance? (I don't know as I'm about to take the plunge with Gucci Guilty which I wrote about a few months back.) Or maybe this was all a big build-up to the arrival of the new Baldwin book which I'll review soon. Who knows? But one more thing: I'm going to hear Adam Lewis speak on Billy B. in a few weeks at the San Francisco Antiques Show. You see? It's a sign.

(Baldwin photo from Billy Baldwin Decorates; Truex photo from Van Day Truex: The Man Who Defined Twentieth-Century Taste and Style by Adam Lewis.)

Orange is the Happiest Color

Or so said Frank Sinatra. Frank loved his orange. Me? Not so much so. However, there are certain shades of orange that I find to be stunning. I wouldn't say that these particular shades are necessarily happy but rather moody. Moody in a good way, mind you. Not moody as in tedious. More Paris than Palm Springs, the place that Frank called home. You know, orange without all of that Vitamin C.

You know who else must have liked orange? The late (and still great) Henri Samuel. I flipped for the photos of his Paris apartment that were featured in the 1989 book The Decorator by Florence de Dampierre. It was a refined home and yet that Hermes shade gave the room a sense of vigor. This, to me, is orange the way that it should be.

Interestingly, when asked what his favorite color was, Samuel responded that it was mauve. OK, so I'm not sold on mauve, but I'm sure if anyone could successfully use the color, it was Samuel. Now I just need to find some photos to back that opinion up.


Of course, an orange room looks that much better when one owns a Giacometti table and a Balthus painting.




Samuel's sitting room. The fireplace was Empire "in the Egyptian taste".


(Photos from The Decorator by Florence de Dampierre, Antoine Bootz photographer.)

This Lady Sings the Blues

There are some people who can't stand blue. I know- each to his own, and if we all liked the same things, wouldn't the world be a boring place in which to live? But still, I just can't imagine living in a world without the blues. (Yes, I sound like a broken record.) But for blues to be interesting, they have to have something interesting to say. They have to be sophisticated and have that "traveled the world" air to them. Really mild blues are too timid for me; they don't look like they've lived. I want a bold, full-bodied blue. Blues that have some maturity. Such as... that blue above. The walls in this Atlanta living room are covered in Brunschwig & Fils silk satin in the most beautiful shade of blue. The homeowner, Danielle Rollins, and her decorator, Miles Redd, are both drawn to blue, so it's only natural that in their hands, the result is something magical. I've seen the walls at night, and they positively shimmer! And, it serves as a smashing backdrop for those chocolate colored velvet sofas.


Yes, there is much going on here. But look at those greeny blue walls. And look at how the purples and reds of the room sing against that blue. Maybe they're singing "My Blue Heaven".


And Madeleine Castaing was a master of blue. That carpet is the most gorgeous shade of blue. The walls aren't too bad, either.


The windows wore blue velvet.


If all of this blue is too bold for you, you can use it as an accent. Traditional fabric yes, timeless shade of blue absolutely.


A little blue, just for you.


(Image at top from Town & Country, August 2010, Francesco Lagnese photographer. #2, #3, and #4 from Decoration (Vol II); #5 and #6 from The Finest Rooms in France)

The Good, The Bad, and the Definitely Not Ugly

My obsession with deep, dark purples and raspberry pinks has reached a feverish pitch as of late. These are the colors that are on my mind, and when I see them on the pages of books and magazines, those colors just seem to leap from the page.

Take flowers, for example. Back in my former life as a married gal, I had the most gorgeous wedding bouquet. It was very simple- chocolate cosmos and really dark purple calla lilies. The bouquet almost looked black, but rather than coming off as Goth, it seemed sophisticated, a bit stark, and dramatic. (If like me you love Porthault linen, Mario Buatta, Tiffany china, and Rigaud candles, then Goth is an adjective that will never be used to describe you.) I can't take full credit for that choice in flowers; I believe that I saw something similar in a very early issue of Martha Stewart Weddings.

Last week, I hosted an event at my apartment, and I threw together a really pretty arrangement of dark, dark dahlias and pink tulips. (That's it, at top. Trust me, it looked a lot better before the tulips grew.) The tulips lightened the look and kept the dahlias from looking too femme fatale. The dark is smoldering; the pink is sweet. It's good girl/bad girl. And let's face it- we all have two sides to our personalities. This color combo kind of encompasses that.



Let's move on to Hamish Bowles' Manhattan dwelling. This chair, above, just killed me. A Louis XV chair upholstered in purple tweed. The color is so rich and luscious. I just have to find something in my home that I can cover in a similar fabric. And then there's Hamish, below, amongst deep raspberry, green, and animal print pillows. Rather decadent looking, don't you think?





There's the Framboise Rose china that I wrote about last week. I'm still convinced that it would look terrific against an aubergine colored cloth or, better yet, in a lacquered aubergine dining room. The aubergine would help to tone down all of that pink in the china.


And then I'm sure you remember this garden party layout from Domino. (It was no ordinary party; it was hosted by Miles Redd.) I always liked how Nick Olsen's hot pink polo looked next to that gorgeous raspberry Oscar de la Renta dress. What a statement, and a most stylish one at that!

(Photos of Bowles' apartment from Vogue Living Australia, June 2010 ; Domino image, Paul Costello photographer)

Back to the Blue and White

For some, the difference between right and wrong is as simple as black and white. For others, there are many shades of gray. Some of us live in red states, while others in blue ones. But regardless of where we live and how we see things, I think it's safe to say that there is something that most of us would agree on. Blue and white is always right in decoration.

(The image at top is a foyer that was designed by William Machado. The effect of the blue and white paper not to mention the blue ceiling is crisp and clean and not too sweet.)



I've always loved this photo. There's my favorite Pierre Frey fabric on the headboard. And look at that gorgeous blue and white Porthault linen. But the main reason I love this shot? It was designed by Mario Buatta, one of the masters of the blue and white color scheme (just one of his many design talents!)



Carolyne Roehm is no johnny come lately to blue and white. She was using it long before her recent book came out. Here, in her Southampton house, there is a wonderful blue and white Portuguese table placed in front of the blue and white tiled fireplace and wall. The blue and white quilted fabric with trim completes the breezy look.




Hmmm, quite an exuberant use of blue and white. You've got the Manuel Canovas porcelain print on the walls and curtains; blue and white plaid on the chairs and window shades; blue dining chairs; blue china; and blue and white lattice rug. Oh, and it appears that the top of the white chest is blue, too.



Mallory-Tillis designed this soothing room in the late 1950s. In a weird way, I'm kind of taken with that blue floor. I'm not so crazy about the arched panels over the windows, but I do like the blue-backed bookshelves and white dust-jacketed books. And that marbleized blue shelf is rather wild.


(Machado photo from The New York Times Book of Interior Design and Decoration; Buatta photo from The New Tiffany Table Settings; Roehm photo from The Tiffany Gourmet Cookbook; exuberant blue photo from House & Garden's Complete Guide to Interior Decoration; House & Garden's Complete Guide to Interior Decoration)

Spellbound by Color

I love color in my home, but not so much in my wardrobe. (Look through my closet and you'll see a sea of black, gray, and bit of greige thrown in for good measure.) But a panoply of bright colors is usually not something to which I gravitate. Lots and lots of shocking, wild color in one room feels like getting hit in the head with an anvil. But if an array of vivid color is limited to one piece or a confined area, and if the colors are arranged in a tight, linear way, well, that's an entirely different story. An angular composition of color seems to give a semblance of order to what otherwise might be chaos; it adds a severity and an edginess to the colors which I like.

Take, for example, the fabric I've shown at top. I don't know who made this fabric, but I'm absolutely in love with it. I realize it's not for everyone, but think about this geometric print being used in a controlled way- perhaps on a seat cushion, pillow, tablecloth. It could very well bump a room from great up to fabulous. And it has the Brooke Astor seal of approval.




Think something like Harran II, Frank Stella, 1967; the Guggenheim Collection.


I think this quilt, Bittersweet XII by Nancy Crow, 1980, would be magnificent hung on the wall as artwork, especially if housed in a very minimal, contemporary space.


This Donald Brooks coat from the 1960s/70s is fabulous. The colorful bands read sophisticated, not cutesy. It's that wow piece that would make the rest of your neutral wardrobe sing.


There's a reason that this book makes appearances so often in chic interiors, and it's just not because it's about Christian Liaigre. I think it might also have to do with that cover.


Even better than the Liaigre cover is this one, American Painting by Barbara Rose.

(Unfortunately, I can't remember from which publication the photo at top was taken.)

Go Dark!

The House Beautiful Color Institute took place here in Atlanta last week, and the turnout was huge.  No surprise, really, as Atlantans are design obsessed...but I think the rest of the country has its fair share of design savvy citizens as well.  Stephen Drucker led a lively discussion on color, and when the topic of current design trends came up, Stephen mentioned that dark colors seem to be captivating us today.  Case in point...the deep navy kitchen of Windsor Smith and the black entryway designed by Rob Southern (seen above), both of which were featured in the September issue of House Beautiful.  This trend is one that has really struck a chord with me, perhaps because I recently painted my powder room navy.  All of the talk of deep, dark rooms got me thinking...

...about designer Courtney Giles' den.  Look at the fair-haired version of the room when it was featured in Atlanta Homes & Lifestyles.  It's light and bright, yet that fabulous corduroy sofa, the geometric rug, and the deep brown wicker chair lend coziness to the room.  And then compare it to the current version in rich chocolate brown.  The same pieces are in the room, but the mood is so very different.  It used to be Grace Kelly, but it became Liz Taylor.


Stephen also mentioned that painting a room black is one of the most daring things you can do (design wise, of course).  I'm dying to try my hand at this.  When I think of black rooms, this one comes to mind:

A room designed by Mark Hampton in the early 1970s. I love the crisp white molding against those black walls. Can you imagine the way this room must have looked at night??  Smashing!  (Speaking of Mark Hampton, I am so excited about Duane Hampton's upcoming book on her genius late husband, Mark Hampton: An American Decorator, to be published by Rizzoli in Spring 2010.  This is the book I have been waiting for!!)

(Photo of kitchen: House Beautiful 9/09, Victoria Pearson photographer;  entrway: House Beautiful 9/09, Victoria Pearson photographer.  Giles' den, light version, from Atlanta Homes & Lifestyles, September, 2007, Erica George Dines photographer; dark version via Giles' website, Emily Followill photographer.  Hampton room from House & Garden, September 1971)

Shades of Prunelle

Those of you who follow me on Twitter may have seen my YouTube link to an old Harper's Bazaar video. Titled "The Fashion Message for Fall 1971", the video featured China Machado interviewing Bill Blass, Halston, and the like for their thoughts on Fall fashion for 1971. When Machado asked Geoffrey Beene for his color forecast, he mentioned teal blue and "a color the French call prunelle". Prunelle? That would be a plummy, prune color. At first I thought how very Seventh Avenue to use the French word for this color, but then again, wouldn't you prefer to wear a prunelle dress rather than a prune dress? It reminded me of an interview I saw with Vera Wang in which she described the color of her living room as "moutarde" rather than mustard. And I'm guilty of slapping fancy names on colors. Have you ever heard me say that I adore an eggplant lacquered room? Nope. I always say aubergine. I suppose it just sounds more exotic than it really is. Pretentious? I think it just might be.

Anyway, I started to think about prune in the home. I wonder why this color is not seen more often in interiors? Are we biased towards the color because of its name? Do we shudder at the thought of its medicinal effects? (When I see the word prune, I immediately think of the prune juice that was on the menu for years and years at The Cloister. I bet when they decided to go after the glamorous set a few years ago they got rid of that item on the menu!) Or, is it just an ugly color?

I don't think I would want a prune colored room. Instead, I'd choose either brown or aubergine. I mean eggplant. But, what about a chair seat covered in prune colored leather or mohair? The chair frame would need to be something other than brown wood, perhaps a creamy ivory or even a smoky gray would be pretty. Or, I could see a glossy ceramic lamp in prunelle. And prune might look pretty smashing mixed with glints of gold and hand rubbed brass. I'm certainly not trying to sell you on coloring your world prune, but it's not that bad of a color. You only need it in small doses- like prune juice.



Do a search on Neiman Marcus for prune and this Ferragamo shoe pops up.


What do you think? Is Farrow and Ball's "Pelt" a shade of prune?


This Calvin Klein fabric from Kravet is Ligne in Prune.


A prune commode by Cote France via Decorati

Image at top: Good luck finding a room with prune accents in it. Perhaps there's a reason for it. This room is kind of pruney, although perhaps it's more plummy. And guess who's responsible for it? Billy Baldwin.