A Love Letter to the Bamboo Pen

While I was getting myself together the other morning, I was ruminating about bamboo-motif pens.  (Why, I haven't a clue.)  Not only do these pens have a very appealing Chinoiserie sensibility, but they also are ergonomically friendly.  Those knotty bamboo stalks seem made to be held firmly yet comfortably in one's hand.  What a happy coincidence that such pens look good and feel good, too.

Bamboo-motif pens have long been staples on stylishly appointed desks, and most of the major luxury purveyors have at one time or another sold sublime-looking bamboo pens. Cartier produced luxe fountain and ballpoint pens made of real bamboo and gold, while Tiffany & Co. was known for its classic sterling silver ballpoint version.  Both Verdura and Harry Winston made sleek gold examples that might possibly have made signing documents a dream.  And let's not forget how popular those imitation bamboo ballpoint pens were a few years ago, although I would argue that their popularity will never really wane.  The bamboo motif is eternally chic.

But my favorite pen of this genre is not technically a replica of bamboo, though in a way it does resemble it: Jean Schlumberger's gemstone-studded pen that looks like a cross between a worn bamboo stalk and a studded piece of coral.  Some of the versions that I have seen include a gold shaft with hematite, coral, or turquoise studs, while the more exotic rendition incorporated ivory and coral or turquoise studs. (I doubt that the ivory version is still made.)

As efficient as typing is, such luxurious pens make me pine for the days when people actually communicated through handwritten notes and letters, usually penned in cursive, too!

Photo at top: A vignette from the catalogue of the 2008 Christie's auction that featured the estate of the Monseigneur le Comte de Paris and Madame la Comtesse de Paris.  You can see a Cartier bamboo and gold ballpoint pen in the photo.

Another Cartier gold and bamboo pen, which was sold with a c. 1935 Cartier rock crystal fountain pen at a 2004 Christie's auction.

A vintage gold bamboo pen by Harry Winston

Two examples of the Schlumberger ivory writing implements, one with gold studs and the other with coral.

A gold and hematite pen by Schlumberger

Seconds at Christopher Spitzmiller

It's the moment many of you have been waiting for... the annual Seconds Sale at Christopher Spitzmiller, Inc.  The sale begins next Tuesday, July 16 and runs through Friday, July 19.

As if that colorful array of lamps, seen above, isn't enough to whet your appetite, there are even more lamps that will be part of the sale, and all up to 55% off retail price, too.  For a complete list of seconds lamps, email info@christopherspitzmiller.com to be added to their email distribution list.  The complete list will be emailed out on Monday.

Now I must decide which lamp to add to my collection of Christopher Spitzmiller lamps.  Decisions, decisions.

Putting a Space with a Name

I always get a kick out of finding an old article or book that features a home decorated by a friend or acquaintance.  Such was the case the other day when I pulled my copy of Architectural Digest California Interiors from the shelf.  When I first read the book a few years ago, I found the project that is seen here to be quite attractive and elegant.  I was especially taken with the gazebo, which was decorated with an array of blue and white fabrics, furnishings, and porcelain.  But at the time, I wasn't familiar with the home's designer, Jack Lowrance.  Fast forward to today, when I do know Jack.  Now that I can put a space to a name, I find the project even more interesting.  Personal connections have a way of making things more meaningful, don't they? 

The home (more of a cottage, really) was located in Woodside, California, close to San Francisco. Jack's longtime clients, who had spent years amassing a notable collection of porcelain and antiques, purchased the home as a place in which to enjoy their retirement. Accustomed to living in a formal manner, the homeowners were, at first, unsure of how to reconcile their treasures with a desire to live more simply.  Jack's approach was to decorate the cottage in the elegant and refined style that the homeowners had long enjoyed and appreciated, yet he did so in a way that was comfortable and easy to manage. It was the best of both worlds, one in which the couple could continue to enjoy their collections but in a more relaxed fashion.

But still, I have to go back to the Gazebo and patio of this home.  I think it's safe to say that the majority of us love blue and white, trellis, dining alfresco, garden seats, ceramics, and the like, so I think you'll especially enjoy the photos of these spaces. They were chic and snappy when they were decorated thirty-some-odd-years ago, and they're still chic and snappy today.
  

The focal point of the living room was the Edo Period screen behind the sofa. To the left of the sofa was a table upon which a Degas drawing and antique seals rested (seen in the top photo.)

Also in the living room was an 18th-century English lacquered secretary, which held the homeowners' collection of blanc-de-chine figures.

Another Edo Period screen could be found in the dining room, where the table was set with crystal, floral porcelain, and gilt figures.

The well-appointed master bedroom boasted a view of the home's swimming pool.

The Library had mahogany paneled walls, which, along with the blazing fireplace, created a cozy refuge.

Jack employed lattice to create two different living spaces outdoors. Off of the living and dining rooms, a Pergola was added to create an outdoor entertaining space.  Planted flowers helped to soften the edges of the space. (#2, #3, and #4 in the outdoor set of photos.)  A patio, notable for its painted, trompe l'oeil scene of the surrounding area, was used for alfresco dining. (#5)  The gazebo stood at one end of the pool, where it housed a collection of blue and white ceramicware as well as blue and white striped upholstered seating, blue and white planters, and fabulous grotto-like blue and white garden stools. (#1, #6, and #7) 


All photos from Architectural Digest California Interiors, Max Eckert photographer.

Have a Happy Independence Day

Stars...

...and Stripes

Stars...

...and Stripes

Stars and Stripes...

...Forever!

 



Rooms and designers featured from top to bottom: Rose Cumming; Madeleine Castaing; Syrie Maugham; Dorothy Draper; Hobe Erwin.

A Night on the Town

How do you get ready for a night on the town?  Do you wear a silk dressing gown while making up? Or do you sit in front of the mirror in your underwear?  Do you spritz yourself with fragrance from Hermès? Or Chanel? And do you indulge in a little nip while getting ready? Or do you wait until you arrive at your destination to imbibe?

You may not give your going-out preparation much thought, but one who did was writer Beverley Nichols.  In his book, All I Could Never Be, he described in detail how he dressed for a night out in 1920s London.  This was a man who obviously thought highly of his Boucheron cuff links as well as his Fortnum & Mason shoes.  And while the label-dropping might come across as a tad bit pretentious, the vivid description, brand names and all, paints a very stylish picture of a time when going out meant tails and top hat, not dirty jeans and dirtier flip-flops.

"tails by Lesley and Roberts in Hanover Square, waistcoat by Hawes and Curtis of the Piccadilly Arcade, silk hat by Lock in St. James's Street, monk shoes by Fortnum and Mason of Piccadilly, crystal and diamond links by Boucheron of the Rue de la Paix, gold cigarette case by Asprey of Bond Street, a drop of rose geranium on my handkerchief from the ancient shop of Floris in Jermyn Street. And on the dressing-table, waiting to be sipped, an ice-cold "sidecar," complete with its crimson cherry."
-excerpt from All I Could Never Be by Beverley Nichols (1949)

A 1926 tailcoat, not by Lesley and Roberts but rather Anderson & Sheppard. (via Savvy Row website.)

A vintage Silk Top Hat from Lock & Co.

Rock crystal, diamond, and black enamel cuff links from Boucheron, Paris, c. 1920. Available through Wartski.

Circa 1927 gold cigarette case (left) from Asprey, sold with a silver gilt case (right) at Christie's

Rose Geranium bath essence from the venerable Floris.

Photo of Nichols, at top, from "Bright Young People" by D. J. Taylor. Sidecar recipe from Vogue Cocktails by Henry McNulty

The Bright Young Diana Mitford Guinness Mosley

I recently reread author D. J. Taylor's excellent book on the "Bright Young People", those 1920s-era young, upper-class whippersnappers of London whose antics were heavily chronicled by the British newspapers of the time. Cecil Beaton, Evelyn Waugh, Brian Howard, Nancy Mitford, and their ilk made up this tightly-knit group of revelers who pretty much partied their way through the decade. I have to say that after reading Taylor's book for the second time, I am left with conflicting opinions of this group. On the one hand, I admire the writers that Waugh and Mitford became. On the other hand, I think that as a whole, the Bright Young People were mostly vacuous, self-centered people who seemed incapable of understanding- and filtering into- the world outside of their clique. No matter whether one finds the bright young set obnoxious or dazzling, I believe most would agree that this group makes for interesting reading.

One Bright Young Person who was mentioned numerous times in Taylor's book was Nancy's sister, Diana Mitford, seen above as a young woman. Mitford married Brian Guinness during the 1920s, and they went on to become two of the leading lights of their social set. (Or, to use today's terminology, they were a "power couple" amongst their cohorts.)  As we know, Diana Mitford Guinness scandalized her family by throwing over Guinness for Oswald Mosley, the fascist politician who founded the British Union of Fascists and later, the New Party, which included the infamous Blackshirts.  Diana and Oswald would later marry in Germany at Joseph Goebbels' house (where Hitler was in attendance, no less,) espouse fascism, be interned during World War II, and eventually end up living in France.

Political persuasions aside, Diana and Oswald Mosley did have a pretty home in Orsay known rather grandly as Temple of Glory.  While the interiors seemed to reflect their French locale, the house also had a very British feel to it, cozy thanks to books and bibelots.  According to The Finest Houses in Paris, in which these photos appeared, the house had few rooms, prompting one guest, the Duchess of Windsor, to query, "It's a charming place, but where do you actually live?"  Pale blue, Diana's favorite color, made appearances throughout the house, especially via walls and fabrics.  An enthusiastic entertainer, Diana often invited guests to Sunday lunches, where her Irish butler prepared the meals.  For her table settings, Diana preferred to use her rare Saxon porcelain china, placing it directly on the table sans place mats.  And candied fruit (see below) was frequently served after dinner. 

All in all, the Mosley house was very elegant and inviting.  It's too bad the same thing can't be said for their politics.

All photos from The Finest Houses in Paris by Christiane de Nicolay-Mazery, I. B. Tauris publisher, 2000.

Remembering Joe Nye

I was heartbroken to learn that Joe Nye, a designer whom I considered to be a friend, died last week. I got to know Joe about six years ago when he gave my sister and me the grand tour of Los Angeles. It was then that I learned what a kind, gregarious, and generous person he was. I remember a day spent seeing the city's design hot-spots, chatting about Sister Parish and our favorite fabrics, and relaxing at his lovely, chic, jewel-box of an apartment in Beverly Hills. (You can see photos of his apartment, below.)  It was a day I won't forget.

Over the years, I enjoyed seeing his work featured in magazines such as House Beautiful, and I was thrilled when his first book, Flair: Exquisite Invitations, Lush Flowers, and Gorgeous Table Settings, was published. It seemed appropriate that Joe's book was about entertaining. After all, he was warm and hospitable and cared a great deal about creating beauty, both for himself and for others. He had great, effortless style, and he was a good old-fashioned decorator in the best sense of the profession. He loved Chinoiserie, antiques, modern art, books, Dodie Thayer lettuceware, Mottahedeh Blue Canton, and all of the other time-honored things that I also love. Perhaps that is why we always had so much to talk about.

I will miss visiting him, and my future trips to Los Angeles just won't be the same without our get-togethers.  At least we have his work, and his book, to remind us of what a talented man Joe Nye truly was.

Image of Joe from his book, Flair, Rizzoli 2010. Images of Joe's apartment from House Beautiful, August 2009, Roger Davies photographer.