What I've Been Up to Over the Past Year: Inspired Design

Goodness. It feels strange writing a blog post after a year-long hiatus. I was worried that I may have forgotten how to blog, but it seems that after eleven years of writing The Peak of Chic, blogging has become second nature. It feels good to be back.

As some of you know, I have spent the past year writing my latest book, Inspired Design: The 100 Most Important Interior Designers of the Past 100 Years (Vendome Press). I spent countless hours doing research (thank heavens for my library of design books and shelter magazines), writing, and selecting the photos that defined the careers of the featured 100 designers. In fact, I spent so much time working on this book while cloistered in my home, some of my neighbors assumed I had died or moved.

Now that the hard work is behind me, I can say that it was well worth it. The end result is a book that I feel honors a very diverse, influential, and talented group of individuals. The featured designers hail from around the world, including America, England, Yugoslavia, and even Iran. There are living designers who are currently at the heights of their careers, while others experienced their heydays back in the 1930s and '40s. A number of the designers can be classified as traditionalists, but for each of them, there is a designer whose work was, or is, at the cutting-edge. Some were known for their reserved personalities, while others aren't afraid to make statements with their appearances. Peter Marino, that would be you.

Did your favorite designer make the list? You'll have to wait until October 2, the book's publication date, to see the list in its entirety. In the meantime, we'll be releasing glimpses via my blog as well as on Instagram. For those who can't wait, visit the Vendome Press website today for a peek.

To pre-order the book, please visit Vendome's website for more information.

I'll be embarking on my book tour later this fall, so I hope to see many of you soon!

France, May, 1939

One of the nice things about collecting old magazines is that I have a treasure trove of inspiration. One of the bad things about collecting old magazines is that I often forget which ones I own. Over the weekend, I found a May 1939 issue of the French magazine L'Illustration, an issue about which I had completely forgotten. The issue's theme was houses and design, and it contains photos of all kinds of wonderful Parisian apartments and country villas.

While reading the magazine, it dawned on me that this issue was published just a few months before Hitler's invasion of Poland, an event that ultimately embroiled Europe in World War II. That's not to say that in May, 1939, Europeans were ignorant of the troubling brewing around them; most were in fact aware of the Nazis' growing threat. But, I suppose that in the spirit of "business as usual" (or perhaps "sticking one's head in the sand"), European magazines continued to promote the high style fashion and interiors that were the rage in the 1930s.

The interiors seen here were done by Jansen, Ramsay, Eugène Printz, and a firm with which I'm not familiar, Porteneuve. I don't know if these photos show actual residential interiors or showroom vignettes. Still, I think it's interesting (and rather sad, too) to look at these interiors with the knowledge that Europe was about to change forever.

Image at top: Salon by Ramsay




Room by Jansen




Dining Room by Eugène Printz




Salon by Porteneuve





Bedroom by Eugène Printz




Jansen

How the Stars Really Lived

Articles about how the stars live at home have always helped to sell magazines. Not only has the roster of popular actors and actresses changed through the years, but so too have the decorative styles with which they choose to live. In the 1930s, more than a few actresses resided in homes that bore striking resemblances to the glamorous movie sets of the era. But, by 1940, some of that Hollywood pastiche seemed to give way to more established styles like French Provincial or even Early American.

The homes featured here appeared in the November 1940 issue of House & Garden. It seems that designer William Haines had a lock on the Hollywood movie community as five out of the six homes shown were of his doing. The sixth home was designed by Tom Douglas. While some rooms bear the mark of drama that you might expect from the likes of Ann Sothern and George Cukor (who of course was a director rather than actor), others seemed to evoke a sense of East Coast propriety. That bedroom of the Richard Wallaces looks like a room in which one of Katherine Hepburn's characters might slumber.




The dressing table of Ann Sothern which, according to the magazine, was planned by Sothern herself. Helen Conway of William Haines decorated the room.



The Richard Wallaces' bedroom designed by William Haines. A rose chintz covered the walls, windows, and the headboard.



"Constance Bennett likes a formal setting", or so said House & Garden. William Haines, decorator.



"Chinese elegance" in the William Haines' designed living room of George Cukor.



One of the only houses in this article that was not designed by Haines. The home of Wayne Morris was the handiwork of decorator Tom Douglas.



Tropical flowers abound in actor Sam Jaffe's entrance hall. William Haines, decorator.


All photos from House & Garden, November 1940

A Numbers Game

On the day that Elizabeth Taylor died, I tweeted that the actress was never more beautiful than in Butterfield 8. I stand by that statement, but I would like to add that she was also stunning in Ash Wednesday. I will never understand why that movie was so roundly panned. Here's the deal: the film is set in Cortina, Italy; Taylor drives a gorgeous Mercedes, as I recall; the producer was Dominick Dunne; and most importantly, her clothing was by Valentino. Oh, and she wears a bejeweled turban in the movie. Seriously, what more do people want? Talk about a heavy dose of glamour!

But this post isn't really about Taylor. I've just taken us down a very circuitous path to a discussion of telephone numbers, or more accurately, telephone exchanges. Butterfield 8, in case you're not aware, was the exchange that Taylor dialed to find out who her appointments were for the evening. Because as you know, Taylor played Gloria Wandrous, a call girl. A quite beautiful call girl, but a call girl nonetheless. Decades ago, telephone numbers were a little different than they are today. They were composed of seven numbers, but the first two numbers were designated by letters. So, Butterfield 8 was BU8 plus four additional numbers. You dialed the letters using the corresponding numbers on the dial. I may not be making myself clear, so you can click here to learn more about it.

So why am I writing about this? Because, don't you think that these exchanges had a lot of pizazz compared to the boring old numbers we have today? I'm sure that a lot of you remember when phone numbers were designated this way. If you watch an old movie set in London, you might hear characters referring to a phone number as WHItehall XXXX. That was a well-known exchange. If you lived in New York, your exchange might have been PLaza or GRamercy. Had I lived in my current Atlanta home back in the 1950s or 60s, my exchange might have been CHerokee.

I know this might seem like such a random post, but seriously, wouldn't you rather have calling cards printed up with KLondike, MUrray Hill, or HEmlock rather than all of the rigmarole we have to use today? I know that I would.


Parish Hadley's telephone number, as seen here in a detail of a rendering for Sister Parish's calling card, was RHinelander 45380.




One of the lady decorators, Elsie Sloan Farley set up shop on Park Avenue. Her number was PLaza 3-3516.




If you needed to reserve a room at The Carlyle back in 1936, you would have rung RHinelander 4-1600. You would still dial the same number today: 744-1600.




Syrie Maugham's London exchange was a posh sounding Mayfair. Her Chicago shop? That exchange was SUperior. That one sounds nice too.




W.E. Browne was an old decorating firm in Atlanta. This invoice, issued to my mother for the purchase of an antique cabinet, shows the firm's TRinity exchange. What's funny is that this invoice was dated 1990; I suppose they never saw any need to print new letterhead. I also admit that I like the use of "Decorators and Furnishers". It seems refreshing in a day and age where those terms are considered to be passé.


Image of Syrie Maugham stationery from Syrie Maugham by Pauline Metcalf.

Elementary Design

My friend Dean Farris, a designer and blogger who now resides in Naples, FL, recently sent me a few House Beautifuls from the early 1930s. Yes, manna from heaven. Surprisingly, I was intrigued by an article about a very well-appointed nursery in a New York apartment. I usually don't feature nurseries on my blog because quite frankly, I just don't think about them. Alfie didn't require one when I adopted him. Still, the one I'm showing here really caught my attention. First, it was decorated by Pierre Dutel, a noted designer of the era whose work I have always admired. And secondly, look at how elaborate this nursery was, especially considering that this article was written in 1935. There was the kindergarten/ dining room, a night nursery, and a day nursery. A set up like this obviously took up a fair amount of room. It makes me wonder what the rest of the home, owned by a Mr. and Mrs. Wallace T. Orr, looked like. It also makes me wonder what became of the children who were lucky enough to call this their nursery.




This was the kindergarten cum dining room. The mural of blocks, some which feature French phrases, was really quite charming. The star ceiling fixture looks very similar to one that is currently sold through Circa Lighting.

The night nursery was really quite sophisticated stuff for the time. What I'm especially taken with is that bed. I like that the bedspread matches the upholstered headboard and footboard, both of which are finished in a nail head trim. A bed like this would work equally as well in an adult's bedroom, as would the blue and white toile wallpaper.





The day nursery was decorated with Mother Goose nursery rhyme murals. I spy Jack and the Beanstalk and the Cow Who Jumped Over the Moon. And check out the painted floor. Murals like these would be perfect in a child's nursery in 2011.

All images from House Beautiful, July 1935.

What Is It About This Home?

I bought a copy of Carrie Donovan's 1981 compilation of New York Times design articles, Living Well : The New York Times Book of Home Design and Decoration, a few years ago. Despite photos of homes of the beautiful people- you know, like Halston and Paloma Picasso- as well as a few palazzos and country piles, there is one home that has stuck with me for years. And you know what? I can't really figure out why, because it's not really my style...or maybe it is.

It was the home of Manhattan caterer Donald Bruce White. White lived above the shop so to speak in a five story townhouse built in the late 19th c. Part of the townhouse was designated for White's catering business, while the rest of the house was his personal space. The article mentioned that White's home was a melange of styles. So why my interest in this home?


Here, White, seated at the head of the table, holds court at a dinner in his private dining room. I know you may think that I was drawn to this photo because of the female guest dining in her fabulous fur hat, but that's only part of it. The room is understated. It's quietly chic. It's not trying too hard to impress. It's a type of decorating that seemed more prevalent "back then", but unfortunately not so much today. (Oh, and I love the ceramic pumpkins on the mantel.)


The living room in which White received clients. Again, it's a room that wasn't decorated to death. It was comfortable and inviting, but I would think it allowed White and his clients to get down to business. As my mother and I like to say, "It is what it is", and "it" wasn't trying to be something that it wasn't. (Does anyone know if the multicolored fabric on the pillows and seat cushion is still made today? If not, it needs to be. It's pretty fabulous.)


And then here is White's private kitchen. I hate to state the obvious, but isn't the copper cookware the draw here? That bombe adds a little eye candy to the photo too.

Maybe the reason I find White's home appealing is because it seemed that people and their enjoyment of good food and a little conviviality were the focus of this home. Not showy furniture or artwork. Not in your face fabric or wallpaper. Rather, it was a place for living a seemingly good life- something I try to remind myself as I'm decorating my home.

Laura Ashley- I Hardly Knew Ya

Today's book reviews involve two designers- one who I thought I knew well, and the other who I knew not at all.





I loved Martin Wood's book on Nancy Lancaster and devoured his follow-up on John Fowler (who didn't?!). So when I heard that his next subject was Laura Ashley, I was intrigued. Intrigued because Wood was writing it, and curious about what made Laura Ashley a compelling subject. Well, let's just say that the last time I was taken with anything Laura Ashley was back in the 1980s- but I'm enchanted by her, her story, and the look once again.

Welsh born Laura Ashley and her husband Bernard got their start in the apparel and textile business in the early 1950s when they began to print fabric in their home. The business took off with a line of small neck scarves that became all the rage. Tea towels followed, but it was their garment line that took the company to an entirely new level- and made Laura Ashley a household name in Britain and beyond.

Of course many of us fondly remember those Laura Ashley dresses that we wore as children (they were a little Laura Ingalls Wilder-ish, but hey, it's better than some of the clothes little girls are wearing today), but did you know that Laura and her husband were innovators? Bernard insisted on selling their fabrics alongside the garments, something which people felt would never work... but it did and quite successfully. And many of their prints were actually a bit edgy looking, a far cry from the traditional florals that many of us associate with the house. Who knew? I certainly didn't.

The book is chock full of photos of various clothing collections (the Venetian Collection was pretty fabulous) as well as color photos of their prints. But for me, the best part are the photos of the Ashley homes. If you swoon for very British interiors, trust me, you'll have a ball reading this book.


Remember this photo? Diana was wearing a Laura Ashley skirt.


Laura Ashley fabrics c. 1972.


The Ashley dining room in their home in England.


And for you Francophiles, a guest bedroom in the Ashley's French chateau

And the designer who I wasn't familiar with? John Minshaw. And what a nice surprise this book was. John Minshaw Designs is a wonderful introduction to a designer whose work is classical with a twist. There is a brief biography of Minshaw- important for those of us who are new to the designer- but the monograph is mainly a compilation of project photos. No need for me to write anything else because I think the photos will do Minshaw more justice than my writing will.

Perfection

This 1936 photo of a cocktail room stopped me dead in my tracks. (Yes, we can just stop the post right here. A cocktail room. How utterly fantastic and so very civilized. I'm going to call my living room a cocktail room from now on because it is where the cocktails are drunk in my home.) Everything about this room sums up what I love best: Chinoiserie; a mural; cocktails; a dark floor (perhaps linoleum or some type of composite?) with what appears to be metal inlay.

The mural was painted by Allyn Cox, famous for his murals at the US Capitol. You may also remember my post about the Peacock Mansion here in Atlanta with its Allyn Cox mural in the dining room (see below). How I wish the cocktail room photo were in color, but here is a description of the room:

A corner of a cocktail room in a house in Glencoe, Illinois, with murals by Allyn Cox. The background is pale yellow, the figures are a luminous blue-white, with black touches in hair and shoes. The room itself is done in grey, with splashes of vermilion.

Perfection. Enough said.


The dining room of the Goodrum House (aka the Peacock Mansion) with its Allyn Cox mural.

Mirror, Mirror on the Wall

Want to know a secret? I love mirror. I love mirrored walls, mirrored doors, mirrored screens, mirrored furniture, and mirrors on a wall. (I don't, however, do mirrored ceilings.) Am I a narcissist? Do I like to admire my reflection? Well, no. OK, so maybe a little.

What I'm drawn to most is mirror that has something interesting going on. Think smoked or antiqued mirror or better yet verre églomisé. And mirror that has been incorporated into a room's architecture really pushes me over the edge- in a good way. What I find a shame is that so few artisans or designers are doing unique things with mirror today. (An exception is my friend Ray Goins who is a master at verre églomisé, but that's a post for another day.) Back in the 1920s, 30s and 40s, mirror really was the height of sophistication, and the imaginations of furniture craftsmen, architects, and designers knew no bounds when it came to using it. Take, for example, this door:


Now, a door like this could not have been in the apartment of a milquetoast. Instead, it graced the New York apartment of screen legend Gloria Swanson circa 1928. I can't quite figure out where the door actually is or how it opened, but that's not the point. The mirrored panels were outlined in steel molding, and in the middle was an electric fountain backed with a bright gold niche. Yes, the fountain shows questionable taste, but hey, it was Gloria Swanson. And you have to admit it was pretty creative.


Above is an outdoor ballroom designed by Nancy McClelland, a very talented and prominent designer whose name has been somewhat forgotten through time. That rather rotund fountain, the shell above the door, and the stylized tree were all made from mirror mosaic. This is really pretty fantastic. Gaudy? A bit. Do I want it on my balcony? No. But can you just imagine how this outdoor ballroom looked at night with guests attired in dinner jackets and satin bias-cut gowns, champagne coupes in hand, dancing among the mirrored decorations? Now tell me, when have you seen anyone go to this much trouble lately to do something different?


OK, so this example above might be more to your taste. A bedroom in Paris c. 1936 in which the door and window frames, the radiator covers, and tables were covered in mirror. I'm not so crazy about the commodes (or are they the radiator covers?) with the strips of mirror on them, but that door...perfection. That was some glamorous architecture!


And finally, a dining room from 1941. The mirrored fluted pilasters framed panes of mirror. The diamond inset behind the clock was a nice touch.

If mirroring walls, doors, and radiator covers seems a bit complicated, you could always buy a mirrored screen like the one at top, available from David Duncan Antiques. It's obviously not the type of mirror in which to preen, but it looks pretty smashing nonetheless.