Father and Daughter: a collaboration

Is it a southern collaboration or the fact that it’s father and daughter that developed this fabric line that makes it special? Maybe it’s the fact that Andra was likely rooting around in her Dad’s Memphis home on the hunt for some such thing she deemed important, or fighting a losing battle to straighten the home on one of her visits, finding herself immersed in a sea of art.

Electra Eggleston Textiles . Originally designed for the Noelle Hotel, pictured above. Miami . Peacock.

One really can never know where inspiration will strike. It could come from under the bed, in the form of a long lost colorful sock, a passing cloud in the sky, or a well worn wallet with a few stitches, long let way from the strain of receipts – sadly not money. For me, travel it seems, always ignites that inspo – in whatever form or fashion it might arrive, I am open to taking it.

Spy that Farrow and Ball . Lotus Wall covering – yes please.

Illustrations spanning decades, stuffed under sofa cushions, frayed and folded, along side luckier versions, catalogued and stacked, whisper thin alone, but a fortress of power and inspiration in piles. They sparked what I image was a warm glow of an idea for a business in the daughter of this famed photographer William Eggleston’s eye, and she flamed it.

This series of hotels in Nashville, connected only by their location, sitting neatly in a row on 4th, offered a design aesthetic that makes me happy. Was it cutting-edge? – no, but they all had their clever moments, and one had a fabric on their upholstered roof top furniture, in an eye popping kelly green that held my attention. Low and behold, as I am flipping through Garden & Gun – yes, that is the name of a real magazine, don’t I just spy that fabric, profiled within its pretty pages. Don’t I just. I should have known, after all, I did buy the magazine in the hotel’s gift shop. Noelle Hotel is curated perfection. They even use Steamline Luggage to stage their wares, as if everything else about the place hadn’t done the trick already.

So now here I go, thinking about how I might incorporate Habana and Hokkaldo, or both into No. 5. I’ll make myself love that No. 5 if it kills me trying.

Electra Eggleston . Hokkaldo . Winter – Left and Habana – Right.

Happy Sunday.

Ode to More than a Piece of Luggage

This weekend I visited NYC to take in Hamilton, listen to some Jazz at the Blue Note, eat some good food, and generally enjoy Manhattan in the not so springy springtime.  My suitcase did not join me for the trip.  Somewhere between the vestibule and the trunk it went its own way – ending our association.

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Kate Spade for Streamline Luggage

I said it was fine, that its just a material thing, not my good health, or the loss of someone you love, or something truly tragic like living in the middle of the country and not being able to smell the salt in the air, and take a dip in the ocean, where truly all your ailments seem to vanish away.  Nothing that catastrophic, and still it’s left me a little melancholy.

Dallas . TX Top at Blue Print Store.  Bottom Left:  Cape Cod, Middle:  Farmhouse Pottery, Woodstock. VT, Right:  Hermes Pop-up . Nashville . TN

My Kate Spade for Steamline Carry-on had been a lot of places with me.  I bought it just after I sold my first home – that was three homes ago, and at least a half dozen rentals.  It had been to Paris three times, to the South of France, to Venice, Croatia, Bosnia, Switzerland, and Costa Rica.  It had been to Florida, Maryland, Virginia, Tennessee, Texas, New York, DC, Illinois, Maine, Rhode Island, New Hampshire, Vermont and probably a few states in between.

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The Club Car. Nantucket . MA

It was my constant Cape Cod companion, and adored Nantucket though it pretended to have no favorite.

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J’adore . Dior . Paris . France – Les Arts Decoratifs

Perhaps it grew tired of never be fully unpacked – not being allowed to breath.  Maybe it had some bad jeu-jeu like this rash that won’t seem to leave me alone.  Maybe I should consider it a ritualistic cleansing?  Do you suppose the same could be true of my adorable little Chanel booties – the ones that could carry me at a fast pace trot through the city with nary a complaint from me or the boot.  And what of my leather pants, and my beloved faux fir Gucci knock off slippers from Target?  What about them?

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Croatia.

That’s enough now – it’s enough.

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Water Taxi to Splendid Hotel . Venice . Italy – my Steamline was right beside me.

I had a beautiful weekend – even if I did have to wear the same clothes the whole time.  Sometimes you’ve just got to call a Spade a Spade – I’ll carry on….wink, wink.  See, I still have my sense of humor.  I never pack it, it should always be readily available.

Happy Sunday.