If you’ve ever had custom curtains made for your home you have likely come to understand, on a deep and abiding level, the metaphor “You could have knocked me over with a feather”. The cost of that to-die for fabric, the labor associated with nipping, tucking, pleating, pressing and detailing the curtains in a way that only the top 1 percenters (those with the keenest of design eyes) will recognize, is breath-taking. As in you will be robbed of the very oxygen that keeps you alive, and will be required to find alternative means for funding your children’s higher education.
Prone to hyperbole I am, but in this case, I am NOT. It’ll be curtains for your dream vacation or any vacation for a long time to come if you happen to have a home with many windows that need to be clothed. That is if you go the custom route.
Nobody wants to feel, or for that matter, and perhaps more honestly, others to think, that you cheaped out. That’s the worst, and you need not feel that way at all, if only you are willing to do a little leg work. Off the shelf curtains abound. Stay away from cheap synthetics, seek out natural fibers, backed by heavy cotton so they’ll hang from your fenestration like a Fendi gown on a famous actress. Once the gown has been selected, I like the offerings at Restoration Hardware. They are well made, come in an abundance of lengths and shades, and offer the perfect backdrop for the final flourish – the trim. Here’s where you’ll make a splash. Whether baubles or glass beads are your thing, pom-poms, or the clean classic look of a key fret, you’ll find a wild array of offerings to express your individuality that will be anything but standard.
I lost three properties in a seven day span. Mary Oliver would be proud of me, the Art of Losing isn’t really hard to do at all, not when you practice as I do. It does require a special quality nonetheless that I call “detached investment”. You can’t get cavalier about what you choose to bid on just because you may not be successful in your quest to obtain it. No, you need to tip toe across a tightrope – not quite a forever property but a property that you are going to spit, polish and shine into something for which you can be proud, not regretful. You can’t fall victim to your competitive instincts to win, if that winning isn’t keeping pace with reality. How much work does it need? How easy will it be to build it? Will permits or variances or condo approvals be required? If you are starting to get a headache, good. It will dissipate nearly as soon as you stop reading this, but if you win that bid for a property in which you overpaid and underestimated what it was going to take to convert it, well you better get accustomed to living with it.
This post is not meant to dissuade you from the hunt, just to keep you from the buyers remorse that some people may be feeling right this second. Three flights up a narrow, uneven staircase, the unit without air conditioning when we are moments away from sleepless nights, damp sheets and the always precarious installation of an in-window unit with its awkward distribution of weight, sharp edges, and need for two people to execute what should be a solo effort. Enough about that. You get the point. You don’t want to be that “guy”.
Continue the hunt does, and it does offer something exciting even if that something isn’t a win. I love the process of imaging how I will design these spaces and get pretty far along in the process between the offer and the verdict before ball up the trace paper and make a three point attempt from outside the paint toward the circular file. It’s not an entire loss, while every property has its quirks which lend themselves to particular furnishings layouts, art placement, lighting schemes and the like, color palettes can travel from property to property with relative ease.
I was super excited to learn that Chatham Interiors is coming to Boston, and not just anywhere in the city, but on the very same street that I currently live. Melinda Headrick is both the Owner and Principal Designer. I have frequented her two shops on Main Street in Chatham for years. I consider my style to be a happy cross pollination between Melinda (her first shop) which is all about sophisticated elegance and TA . TA, a younger, hipper, poppier aesthetic for those that have money.
Melinda is a beautiful designer, and offers an array of options for accessing her talent. Full design services aren’t for everyone as it can be prohibitive for those working with tight budgets. There are virtual consultations and room by room options with the extra added benefit of having them order and track all your purchases for you, ensuring they arrive at your home. Ah the possibilities, keep bidding, keep believing, keep on dreaming.
When it comes to the tried and true lovers of blue, Mark Sikes and Summer on the Coast seem to love these hues the most. As the days get warmer my excitement for the sand, sea, light linens, and fresh cut flowers outpace our New England weather. No worries, as the temperature bounces around like the metal ball in a pin ball machine I’ll be planning my next summer home renovation for a home I don’t yet own, in a place I am not entirely exists, with a fervor that defies all reason. It will be fueled by Jill Rosenwald’s new line of tiles entitled, Fort Point – the name of the section of the city in which her eponymous pottery shop resides, and from whence her inspiration is derived.
In partnership with AKDO, a NYC dealer of luxury tile and stone, Jill created a small but mighty line of tiles that are both an ode to our revolutionary ways, our coastal location, our love of tea and hatred of taxes. I for one often feel that I have a little revolt in me, adore tea, am calmed by the sea and salt water, and hate taxes as much as the next hot blooded American, so would feel a kinship with the tile even if I were blind, which I am not. They are gorgeous.
Five colors, two patterns, two sizes, endless inspiration. Hello Sailor, you had me at navy blue stripes. Is there anything that is more quintessentially nautical than that. Don’t answer, or do, I won’t hear you argue with me. It’s the number one, number one, plus it’s very French, which makes me adore it even more. Brushy and Flora the two patterns are simple yet inspired. The color palette which includes Hello Sailor, Tea Party, Harbor, Salty and Wharf is serene and cheerful. Whether you are rinsing off in a cool shower after a hot, sandy day at the beach or prepping chilled margarita’s and a mint, feta and watermelon salad in your sublimely tiled kitchen, this tile will offer you a safe harbor.
I think I will go in search of a wallcovering to place in a nook inside my imaginary pantry for good measure. Aren’t you just begging for an invitation?
Not everyone can make you wish you could pull off pink hair. Some people just have that flare about them. They ooze creativity, and that creativity won’t stay in its lane. It’s nothing short of fantastic. From the pretty pink painted toe that slips into a leopard velvet flat, mixes high and low, texture and print, color and pattern like a tornado swirling around her petite frame, her style is a centrifugal force pulling you in. Instead of reemerging with a tumbleweed on her head, Carissa looks like she’s ready for tea with the Cheshire Cat in Alice and Wonderland. I am left wondering alright – how does she mix and match the full spectrum of pattern and texture with the colors of the rainbow?
An Interior Designer she is not. Not in the classic sense that is, but classic is so last century. Creativity is all about breaking the rules so why would one let a degree get in the way, I ask you? Knowing that I have loads of followers that are in fact Interior Designers – in the classic sense, and being a lover of education i would never disrespect a degree. I do wonder if you applaud or disdain the untrained. Please do weigh in.
Trained or not, Carissa’s style, while not for everyone, is a master class in the complex layering of hue, color blocking and pattern. I suspect that my next statement will cause some of you to become red-faced and argumentative, but an entire room in a series of whites, off-whites, ecru, and pale cream is safe, formulaic and predictable. It screams lack of self-confidence in either the owner or the designer or both. Of course it works together, its tonal, but I dare you to tell me it wows.
Quirkiness is part of her charm and evident in her design aesthetic, the naming of her animals – a cat named Hot Dog, a dog named Waffle and another named Queso. Her irreverent, funny, and educational Instagram posts, and her willingness to share some of the tricks of the fashion and graphic design trades that have helped her excel in the world of interiors.
Reinvention is the catchphrase of the 21st century. I applaud Carissa, want to take one of her design classes, Zoom her into my living room for a strategy session all the way from Dallas, and thank her for pointing out a few color hacks that will have you building your own color confidence. Select a favorite piece of art, a scarf, or something straight out of nature and start playing.
Except here in New England where spring is more likely to still be caught in a long winter’s nap, and be skipped over entirely for summer. My fever for the season has not diminished an ounce despite my regions unwillingness to embrace renewal.
Ah renewal, an opportunity to dust off the doldrums and bunnies that have surely collected in the darker corners of your house and give it a proper cleaning. Root around in the shed or the storage closet to see what potting soil remains to plant a happy row of tulips or daffodils, a perfect urn placed at your front door, punctuated by pussy willows, and a trail of ivy. Polish up your bike, grease up the chain and launch off for a ride to the beach or farmer’s market and fill your basket with honey.
I like to give my decore a refresh while I am at it and Spring always makes me long for a coastal cottage to call my own. Perhaps that dream will have to remain a little further down my dirt path than I would like as I am currently without a primary home, and while I am not homeless, my restlessness for a renovation project feels like it’s reaching a feverish pitch, which no amount of house hunting has yet sated. Touch market. I got a punch in the gut when I saw that the only property I placed an offer on since the start of the year went for $100K over ask. It’s a one bedroom. Instead of a fresh start, I feel like I’m back to square one.
Fortunately I possess a vivid imagination and am happily putting it to use designing a home of my imaginings that would make the Equinox come-a-knocking for cocktails.
I get a rosy glow when I do something that makes me money. While green isn’t ever going to be one of my go-to hues for home, my affection for it is inextricably tied to its universal associations with luck and wealth, with nature and sustainability, with spring and the circle of life. Green will always have a place in my heart where regrettably one of my less favorable qualities – envy lives. I hope that with a large amount of awareness and a Birch Stick I am able to beat it back, making way for the dewy rose bud hue of possibility that sits on the precipice of a new day. Ah color.
It’s big business. At $30B in US sales annually, you can bet they don’t just let anyone name the colors, which naturally got me thinking about who does get to name them. Color Theorists/Specialists, Psychologists, and Marketing Professionals with a Lawyer or two thrown in to derail your plans, least you think you’ve got an original when you don’t, can all play a role in the naming process. The process by the way isn’t all flapjacks and silly putty – though the names might incidentally or accidentally make their way into the collection, it’s far more scientific than that.
Color naming falls into four basic categories: Geographical, Experiential, Emotional and Visual. Geographical names are pretty obvious. They evoke the feeling of a place and might be named; Sand Dune, Parisienne Cafe, Turkish Delight, or Ocean Meets Sky. My choice for experiential colors, because if I didn’t make it clear, I’d like to be a Color Marketing Manager that spent more than 10% of my time naming colors would be Cliff Walk, Tango in the Dust, Deep Dive, Runway or Sun Salutation. Emotional can be felt in the names; Bashful, Buttery Bliss, Cruel Crimson, or Naughty Noir. Visual Colors are meant to evoke a thing rather than a place, and bring the hue to mind like Cotton Candy, a pale spun sugary pink or Coffee Bean a rich dark chocolate brown, or Marilyn’s Dress, named by Monroe herself for a color that reminded her of a dress she owned when she was a child that made her happy. Apparently working at Ben Moore did not illicit the same feelings.
As for my color naming career, I am not sure I’d pass the mustard – not a tone you are likely to see me choose, and interestingly very similar to Farrow & Balls Color of the Year – Babouche, which I like for the way it rolls off my tongue and the association with the Moroccan slippers that the men of this country famously wear. Naming has to do double or triple duty. It must win you over in the war between brands that have similar shades. It needs to inspire and forge an emotional connection, and it needs to be true its descriptor. While we adore incongruity in writing, we seek harmony in our homes.
I feel comfortable admitting to you that I am getting pretty jiggy without my usual renovation fix to carry me through. While I generally do a darned good job hiding from the news, it’s evident that several things are happening that are going to put the kibosh on, if not my hunting efforts, at least the actuality of a purchase and potential renovation. You see, my desire to do it, even if it’s not good for me is so inexplicably compelling that I may need to be held down. I think it’s fitting that I riff on Oliver Hazard Perry’s famous sentiment when I say, “I have met the enemy and it is me”. Hazard indeed.
In the News external problem No. 1: interest rates are going up. I did search for a property with a renewed fervor from the start of the year, knowing what The Fed was up to, and hoping that I could get a property under agreement prior to the first rate hike scheduled for sometime in March 2022. I did not succeed. You see I have my own internal problems that are reeking havoc on my ability to buy. I was burned on my last property, not badly, not a third degree burn or anything as serious as that, but enough to be cautious in this heated market. There were two one bedroom properties that I loved, one of them I made an offer on, but many others wanted it more. A whole lot of cash makes its way to our city and it’s not my kind of cash, it’s the kind of cash that doesn’t bother to consider interest rate hikes because they don’t subject themselves to them. Damn you cash buyers – I hope to be you someday!
In the News external problem No. 2: war. This is a heartbreaking injustice on so many fronts. Lives lost, upheaval, displacement, nations aligning as the dark curtain of divisiveness is drawn across the globe. This type of unrest does not scream optimistic time to buy. My second problem stems from my age and the volatility of the markets. I’m losing big when by all rights I should be sliding into stabilizing stocks or bonds or whatever will carry me into retirement.
External Problem No. 3: Supply Chain and let’s go ahead and throw in labor resource challenges while we’re at it, and combine it with my own internal issue – I can’t leave even the best of properties alone. I have to have it my way. I have to rip and tear, tweak and squeak it into my own version of perfection and that is going to cost you in this market, I don’t care how patient you are, which I am not at all, it will cost you. What a pickle I’m in. If you’ve got any advise at all, now is the time to give it.
“It Costs a Lot of Money to Look This Cheap” or so the neon sign reads in the Dolly Parton 9 – 5 Suite of Nashville’s Graduate Hotel, but it could have been the design ethos for the entire property. I mean this in the most deferential way, because I adore it. It’s an ode to Vanderbilt University – all Graduate Hotels, there are twelve of them nationwide, are located near and inspired by a University, but it’s so much more. Nashville looms large in the design, and if you weren’t educated on country music before you arrived, you will be when you’re ready to leave.
The design is led by the Graduate’s in-house luminary and Chief Creative Officer, Andrew Alford. A man after my own heart, he was told by his first employer that he didn’t have the imagination to be a proper designer. A ‘no’ to Andrew is a challenge that neither he, nor I could refuse, and look where that got him. I’m hoping it will take me to a similarly fabulous place with a pink room, a crystal chandelier, a powder room papered in punchy pattern, where my perfectly polished Swarovski stilettos never hurt and make me appear ten to fifteen pounds thinner than I actually am. Just you watch me, I’ll get there too.
The property is a museum of curiosities that will allow you to keep learning overtime. Hidden gems, layered meaning, moments of surprise and delight are tucked in among the gaudy but gorgeous statement pieces that are there precisely to be noticed. The mega Minnie Pearl art installation that greets you at reception is a loud and enthusiastic southern welcome. The bubble gum pink Dolly Parton sculpture is a showstopper on the rooftop pool just outside the White Limozeen Bar.
Dolly may have one particular suite that is clearly all about her, with a wallcovering that features her face, a shag carpet that is filled with feathers, a king-sized water bed with mirrored ceiling and disco ball to remind you that life should be fun. The Jolene Suite features chintz and pink striped walls offset by a navy sitting room for entertaining.
I’d venture to say that it just might be possible to have the best time you’ve ever had in your life, without ever leaving this hotel, and in Nashville, that’s one tall order to fill. Don’t forget to stop by and belt out a note or two with the mechanical singing pigs.
I have a sickness for which I am neither seeking sympathy or a cure. It possesses me even when I attempt to quiet the insistent voices that inquire, “what would you do”? “Go ahead, you know you want to – buy it and show me – show me – show me – what you would do”? Like any honest to god addict I am spending money that I don’t have, and conjuring ways in which to beg, borrow or steal more to feed the habit.
I am a real estate addict, and I broke the cardinal rule. I attended a broker open house, just to have a look. I know I’m not a broker, but you can’t let little details like that get in the way of your obsession. I knew that the unit didn’t have air conditioning. I’ve been driven from a home before because of this issue. Laugh if you want. I stood dripping in sweat as I served my guests perfectly prepared tuna nicoise, and I wasn’t the only one. They too were mopping their brows and made a quick exit to the cool comfort of their own conditioned homes. I abhor being hot, just as much as being cold. That was the other problem with the unit – it had a heating system that was substantially undersized for the volume of the space. Oh those lovely 11′ tall ceilings with moldings that made me cry they were so beautiful. I rued the day I bought you.
You can understand why I said not again, no, ney, never, but a little look just to satisfy my curiosity couldn’t hurt – it did after all say in the ad that deck rights were penned into the condo docs. I could add a deck, and then introduce an entirely new heating and cooling system. Those baseboard electric heaters would have to go. Expensive and ugly – of course not as expensive as installing a whole new system. Even in these inflationary times the payback on energy consumption might take as long as ten years, and we all know I can’t sit still for that long.
The bathroom needed to be gutted, the kitchen needed to be gutted, but she had good bones. She was on the Parlor Level, and was wide. Her purple kitchen was tiny, tucked as it was under the buildings stairs, but had an adorable tray ceiling. Clear the slate, install wood cabinets with a natural rich dark grain and add brass hardware, and a black marble top – yes black. Don’t argue with me it’s going to be gorgeous. Inlay the ceiling with mirrored glass, and a statement fixture, throw in a butterfly sink, and lay the floor in black and white marble tile that will be carried into the hall just off the living room. That flooring would have to go too, when you rip out all that baseboard heat you’ll leave holes all over the place, and its not original. It’s oak. I’ve always wanted a hemlock herringbone floor – this would most certainly be the time to do it. That door that would lead from the bedroom out onto the tiniest deck – new City of Boston requirements for depth wouldn’t even accommodate a hearty American teenage boys full length, but those doors, they would be French, steel, divided light. All the closets in the bedroom would have to go. An unfortunate choice to have made when they were installed the first time. The bath – gut. A glass shower installed in it’s place. Good-bye to the wallcovering from another era altogether.
The man who owned the property had lived there for forty years – God rest his sole. It was impeccable, preserved, loved even. His art and mid-century modern furnishings to be admired. I want to believe he was happy there, even if he was hot. Maybe it’s for the best that I not be the one to buy it. I’m a hundred thousand in and I haven’t even signed an offer to purchase. Some days I long to be the buyer that will move right in, leave it exactly as it is, and be blissfully happy. All this desire and desperate want is a pain – even if it is one I cannot imagine living without.
Iconic pieces hold value. Trends do not. I was attempting to explain this to my Brother-in-Law who is embarking on a fairly significant renovation, along with my sister, of their LES apartment. A lifelong resident of Manhattan, Andy has an appreciation for art – fine, film, not food per se, but most definitely the musical arts, and culture. His interest in pop, international, historic/ancient, make him a fairly typical New Yorker, which is to say, very well versed in a whole lot of things, that most people know nothing about. If I am being nice about it I’d say it is likely due to the fact that it doesn’t sit on their doorstep waiting to be consumed as it does in NYC.
With all this intellectual sophistication it’s not that he doesn’t know logically that if you purchase a Renoir it is not going to depreciate the moment you walk it out of the Christie’s Auction House – at least I hope that’s the way in which you’d find yourself acquiring it. Of course there are other ways. I prefer to inherit my art, but if I do, I want it to be any one of the most famous impressionists. They knew how to turn a swirl of paint into a pot of gold. I would happily inherit a Mies Van der Rohe, a Saarinen, an Eames, or a Platner right along with that piece of art, but here is where we two differ. I can tell that Andy is skeptical of my assertion that these iconic designer’s furnishings are of real value. “Why not simply get a knock off”? he asks.
All this got me thinking about what makes something move from a trend, to a classic, to iconic. What made this fashion of a time, fifties design move beyond the three year mark, into classic territory? Design excellence, detailing, simplicity and ingenuity combined. How did they turn a formed piece of fiberglass known for its toughness into a sensuous slide that you could sleep on for hours? The angular tilt of the Barcelona Chair is a piece of sculpture in its own right, its design – like that of a master artist, a showcase of understanding of the human form. The materials, the detailing, assembly and execution are why these pieces are revered, and why they hold their value.
I’m all about the high and low, but if you can afford one iconic piece instead of ten from Room & Board, I’d remind myself that I can only sit in one chair at a time, and if I had to choose one, I want it to be the very best.