Tuesday, July 05, 2016
Dorothy Draper Fabrics & Wallcoverings
When I published last week's blog post about Dorothy Draper, a number of readers reminded me of the Dorothy Draper Fabrics & Wallcoverings collection, which is sold through a few designer showrooms across the country. I was familiar with the collection, which I think is absolutely terrific. But, shame on me, I had never written about it on my blog before.
So, off to the Ainsworth-Noah showroom I went, where the collection is presented with the kind of flair that is fitting for any collection bearing Draper's name. As might be expected, there are all kinds of robust prints, from big, blooming florals to tropical greenery. Stripes are a big thing, too, as is bamboo. But if confident-looking prints aren't your thing, the collection's woven and embroidered fabrics, whose photos don't do them justice, likely will be. The downside to the collection? There are so many great fabrics (and wallpapers, too) that making a decision on which one to choose will be difficult at best.
For more information on the collection, please visit the Dorothy Draper Fabrics & Wallcoverings website or contact Ainsworth-Noah or your local showroom.
Brazilliance
Mediterranean
Bamboo Roller Blind
Shannongrove
Shannongrove
Les Fleures de Toulon
Small Tobacco Leaf
Francie & Grover
Summer Shells
Woodlawn Strike
And wallpaper too:
All photos copyright of The Peak of Chic/ Jennifer Boles
Friday, June 24, 2016
Returning to My Roots
When I started my blog back in 2006, I wrote frequently about Dorothy Draper, who remains my all-time favorite decorator. From the time I first saw her work, I was enthralled with Draper's sense of theatricality, which, still today, exhilarates me. But after referencing her in those old blog posts every chance I could get, I reluctantly had to put Dorothy on the back-burner. All of a sudden, it seemed that Dorothy and her work were everywhere, splashed all over the internet. Although I didn't grow tired of her work, I felt that I needed to give it a rest. When something you love becomes ubiquitous, it means it's time to focus your attention elsewhere.
But then, a few days ago, I flipped through my copy of The High Style of Dorothy Draper, the catalogue that accompanied the Museum of the City of New York exhibition on Draper, which I attended back in 2006. Becoming reacquainted with those great, old black-and-white photos of The Carlyle, Hampshire House, and her apartment at The Carlyle especially, I was reminded of how much I love her work- and how much I miss writing about her. There isn't a lot more to be said about Draper that hasn't already been said before. And, likely, you've seen most, if not all, of the published photos of her work. But now that the Dorothy Draper-mania of recent years has simmered down, it seems like now is a good time to cast my focus back to this legendary original.
The Lobby of 117 East 72nd Street, 1929.
Draper's apartment at The Carlyle, c. 1960.
The Carlyle
The Blumenthal apartment at Hampshire House, c. 1937.
Entrance to the hospitality suite at Hampshire House, c. 1937.
Terrace outside of The Camellia House Supper Club, The Drake Hotel, Chicago; c. 1941.
The Greenbrier, c. 1948.
All photos from The High Style of Dorothy Draper
Monday, May 16, 2016
The Blues
Some people consider the color blue as too cold to be welcomed into a comfortable house. Not so, said Dorothy Draper, who believed that, "Blue can be delicate and yet warm at the same time." It's a sentiment with which I wholeheartedly agree. Blue, in all of its various guises, is not only my favorite color, it's the essence of my home, making appearances in every room of my apartment, which, I've been told, is warm and inviting. (Draper also said, "Just as the main theme appears and reappears throughout a symphony, so you can carry one note of color through your whole house to beautiful effect.") Back in 1932 and 1933, the editors of House & Garden were likewise advocates of decorating with blue. Look at the magazine's color photographs from this time period, and you'll see that blue is notably featured in most of them. In some interior photos, the color permeated a room, such as in the Manhattan living room, seen above and below, of Mrs. Robert A. Lovett. Mrs. Lovett obviously had a yen for inky blue, because not only did she choose the shade for her living room, she used it in her bathroom as well. (Seen in the third photograph, the bathroom walls were painted with a mural that shows a colonnaded view of the ocean.)
In other photographs, and in a few illustrations, too, blue appeared as an accent color. Take, for example, the charming illustration of the living room of Richardson Wright, then editor-in-chief of House & Garden, and his decorator wife, Agnes Foster Wright. In this room, the Wrights lived beneath a vibrant, bright blue ceiling. A similar shade can also be seen in the illustration of Condé Nast's paragon-of-chic ballroom, where Elsie de Wolfe chose an 18th-century Chinese wallpaper with a splash of refreshing blue.
But perhaps no photo captures the beauty of blue better than the Edward Steichen photograph, seen below, which shows a woman seemingly enraptured by the blue Delphiniums that grew in Steichen's garden. I understand the way that woman felt, because the spectrum of blues always dazzles me, too.
The three photos above show the Manhattan apartment of Mrs. Robert A. Lovett, who decorated her home.
A photo by Edward Steichen, which was taken in his garden.
This illustration shows the living room of Richardson and Agnes Foster Wright.
An illustration of Condé Nast's ballroom.
All images from various 1932 and 1933 issues of House & Garden
Thursday, February 04, 2016
The Suján Rajmahal Palace
In need of a mid-week pick-me-up? Then feast your eyes on the Suján Rajmahal Palace, the luxury Jaipur hotel whose energizing interiors- refreshing blues, pulsating pinks, and pattern galore- are sure to give you a visual start.
A welcome respite from those ho hum and humdrum hotels, the Suján reminds me of Dorothy Draper and her work at The Carlyle, the Quitandinha, and The Greenbrier- minus the Suján's Indian flair, of course. Draper understood the power of making a decorative statement, especially at hotels and restaurants. After all, who wants to embark on a night on the town or a weekend getaway, only to be greeted by bland décor? On these occasions, guests want a break from the everyday, something Draper afforded to many through her high-style and, at times, whimsically-inclined interiors. Like Draper, Carleton Varney understands people's desire for an escape from the ordinary, as evidenced by his colorful work at The Greenbrier and the Colony Hotel. And so, too, does Adhil Ahmad, the designer responsible for the Suján's interiors.
I wouldn't necessarily want my dining room to have magenta wallpaper and a purple ceiling (see below,) but oh, how much fun it would be to spend an evening in just such a room!
All photos from the hotel's website
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Mad About Maugham

I just finished reading Syrie Maugham, Pauline Metcalf's new book on one of the twentieth century's most innovative designers. It was high time that Syrie got a book of her own. Actually, Richard Fisher wrote a book on Syrie
back in the late 1970s, but that one is both hard to find and quite expensive. I had to resort to photocopying the Fisher book at my neighborhood library. At least I own Metcalf's book.
Like so many of the Acanthus Press books that I've read, Syrie Maugham is very much a catalogue raisonne of the decorator's work through the decades. There were some Maugham rooms that I was familiar with, but many were new to me too. Of course, Maugham's famous Kings Road all-white drawing room is featured in the book (it's on the cover, too); after all, this was the room that got Maugham noticed by the press and the public on both sides of the Atlantic. But what many people don't realize is that Maugham also used color- vivid color- in much of her work, and this is a point that Metcalf drives home with such examples as the living room of Ina and William Wallace and even Maugham's later residence at Chesham Place. In addition to color, other Maugham hallmarks include tufted upholstery (Syrie never overlooked comfort), sleigh beds, mirrored screens, fringe, and fabulous window pelmets, all of which are seen throughout the book.
Another interesting point made by Metcalf is that at times, Maugham's work "overlapped" with that of Elsie de Wolfe, Frances Elkins (someone with whom Maugham occasionally collaborated), and even Dorothy Draper. Look at photos of all four designers' work and you'll see the influence that each one had on the other.
I know that there are those of us who are fascinated by the history of design and those who are only interested in photographs of gorgeous rooms. No matter which camp you're in, I think this book will be well received by both. After reading it, you'll realize that Syrie Maugham was not just a one trick pony. Although she'll be best remembered for that white room and pickled furniture, she did so much more than that. Thanks to Metcalf for showing us that.
The famous all-white party room at Maugham's Kings Road home c. 1932. Once this look ran its course, Maugham was smart enough to go in a different direction and decorate her home in a whole new way:
Vogue Regency in the Entrance Hall at Chesham Place, Maugham's address from 1937 to 1939. If I didn't know better, I might think that this space was decorated by Dorothy Draper.
Rose wallpaper struck a colorful note in the entrance hall at yet another Maugham home, this one at 24 Park Lane.
And one more example of rich color, this time in the living room of William Wallace and his wife, actress Ina Claire. This space dates to the early 1940s.
I find this Maugham decorated drawing room so charming, and I just had to include it because this home belonged to Lady Rose Leveson-Gower and her husband; she was the older sister to the late Queen Mum.
The Manhattan apartment of Grace and Harry Payne Bingham. If only I had traditional windows in my apartment, I would copy that pelmet in a heartbeat.
(All images courtesy of Syrie Maugham by Pauline C. Metcalf, Acanthus Press publishers.)









































