Rose Cumming and an Ode to the Eccentrics

A few weeks ago I lamented the dearth of true and passionate collectors. In that same vein, I've decided to write about the vanishing eccentric. Whatever happened to those individuals who were bizarre, squirrely, or downright kooky? Of course, where I come from we have our fair share of eccentrics, and they hold a special place in our hearts. After all, they make for good story telling during family affairs. But sadly they are a dying breed.

And in the design world, was there anyone more eccentric than Rose Cumming? Stories abound about this force of nature. First, there was her unusual appearance. A powder puff mass of blue hair was the first clue that this woman was no shrinking violet (or perhaps I should say shrinking periwinkle). In Legendary Decorators of the Twentieth Century, Mark Hampton wrote of the time that Cumming attended a party at Sister Parish's home wearing a very long bright green crepe dress that was cinched around her waist with a gold tieback. And in her hair were plastic fern fronds! That's certainly a look I could not pull off, but I admire the effort nonetheless.

In terms of her work as a decorator, Cumming's look was hard to define. In the book The Finest Rooms, Cumming wrote that she liked Gothic, Chippendale, Austrian Baroque, and early Victorian, just to name a few of the periods she admired. She loved "lush things", birdcages, silk fabrics, and pure color. Her dislikes were as extensive as her likes: faux beams on ceilings; figural wallpaper (unless it was a silver paper or old Chinese); and coffee tables. Oh, and wall to wall carpeting too, unless it was in a bedroom or on a staircase. When Cumming decorated a room, she tended to throw a lot of her likes into a room, making it a melting pot of styles. But in a weird way it seemed to work. Many times her work was quite beautiful, and at the very least it was unforgettable. In his book, Hampton did a wonderful job at describing this enigmatic figure. He remarked that "her version of reality was not like anyone else's". I think that would describe most noncomformists. They certainly march to the beat of their own drummers, but they also possess the courage of their convictions. Perhaps there is something that can be learned from Cumming and her ilk, plastic fern fronds and all.




I first saw these images around ten years ago, and I've never forgotten them. This sitting room was in Cumming's brownstone in New York. Cumming chose to use macabre objects in this room, supposedly as a "reaction against the usual conception of prettiness in decorating." Note the Audubon prints above the sofa that represent animals of prey. The fireplace was adorned with plates of snakes. The unusual curtains were really Indian saris. And what about that unusual lampshade? It's an Indonesian parasol. It's all rather bizarre... but quite interesting too.


Cumming's bedroom was evocative of the 1920s. The curtains are blue lame, which in this room actually works against the backdrop of blue-mauve metallic wallpaper. The 18th century Persian child's bed was used as a low table. Hampton wrote that
Cumming preferred to show her home at night. Can you just imagine what this room must have looked like, especially if it was lit by candlelight?


Cumming could also decorate rooms that were down right gorgeous. I am so smitten with this room, especially that black wallpaper with the gold stars. This room was in Cumming's home circa 1929.

Images at top: A young Rose Cumming in her drawing room circa 1930. An older Cumming appeared in a Harper's Bazaar article in July 1964. Here Rose was photographed in her legendary shop. Thank you to a very kind reader for providing me with these two images.