Monday, October 26, 2009

Liz Clai-Borne Again

File this one under "Living Under a Rock" because why did it take a massive billboard at the Midtown Tunnel entrance to clue me into BIG changes at Liz Claiborne?


I knew America's Sweetheart Tim Gunn was named Chief Creative Officer a while back, but turns out my hero Isaac Mizrahi ditched Tarzhay and has been designing for La Liz (also known as my mom's former favorite purse manufacturer) since '08! No wonder the fall campaign looks so delightfully Vivienne Westwood-meets-The Ice Storm. Isaac makes little cameos in all the ads:


This one's from last spring: that 4ft tall grandma is killing it in her lavender separates and maxi weekend bag! The whole feeling reminds me of Kate Spade's all-Gentile Royal Tenenbaums narrative entitled "Visiting Tennesee" that this charming blogger recalled just yesterday. Synchronicity! Plus I love how Liz has reverted back to the old font and that "LC" logo. While waiting out the monsoon in Duane Reade on Saturday I saw her signature perfume (from 1986) behind the case:


Dying for the primary color triangle motif and this cobalt blue bottle by Pierre Dinand, who has apparently designed half of the world's perfume bottles for the past 50 years. Like I always say, you do one thing and you do it well.

This cannot end without mention of the spurious suburban legend that's haunted Liz Inc. for some time: that the late fashion icon was a Satanist and went on Oprah to proclaim her faith in the dark arts and detailed how she gave a portion of LC's profits to the Church of Satan. Simply not true!

Monday, October 19, 2009

11th Dimension

Oh, my goodness gracious. More than a month absence and I left you with Evelyn "Champagne" King and some Photoshopped plates? Shame on ME. I promise I haven't been holed up at home eating ice cream (well, not for consecutive nights at least) but rather working hard at Derelicte and fixing up my place, spurred on by visits from sisterbelle and my favorite ex-Wilderness Boy. Yes, the ten large boxes of coffee table books have finally been unpacked. The Op-art painted wood floor has been executed. The doo-doo brown burlwood wardrobe (a.k.a. my only closet) is now pale blue, awaiting some kind of red kuba cloth-inspired design on the doors and drawers. Also, question: can you hang a 5ft x 6ft canvas on a piano hinge to operate as a giant cabinet door? I'm gonna try. And try to to update more often because Fall '09 is offering up so much inspiration. Like Kelly Wearstler in Vogue AND Met Home?? Outrageous. Magazine subscriber copy covers like these:



Delicious! (Why they put those Family Circle-quality fugfests on the newsstands I'll never know, but that's yet another topic). And thanks to one of my two musical liaisons -- let's face it, without them I'd be listening to the iTunes 90s radio station nonstop -- I have a New Favorite Song: '11th Dimension' by sloe-eyed, slurring Stroke singer Julian Casablancas:


Things we know about Jules: his dad is legendary modelizer John Casablancas (who dated legendary maneater Stephanie Seymour when she was but sixteen) and he can work a Red Wing boot/velvet blazer combo like nobody's business. Oh and he's a super-talented songwriter! But let's analyze the album cover above ... an apparent RCA Victor homage set against moody, Rive Gauche colors. Teal-stained plank wood floor? Yes, please. The black wainscoting, panels and speakers make me think of Jenna Lyon's chalkboard paint bedroom but reimagined with an aubergine silk velvet headboard piped in orange, a red lacquer mirror over the fireplace and a brass-mounted mahogany bureau plat with a distressed leather top as a bedside table with a desk chair upholstered in shiny orange leather. It also reminds of this Matisse painting I saw with Aunt Pat a few months back in Philly:


Le luxe (I), 1907. Sure looks like a frozen surface of a fireball to me. Note to crouching bather lady: sometimes I like to put my head in the sand, too, but you'll miss out on a whole lotta luxe that way. Ya dig?

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Three's Company

Thrice-named ladies in my head right now:


1. Evelyn "Champagne" King.


2. Aerin Lauder Zinterhofer.


3. Sally Jessy Raphael.

Friday, September 11, 2009

Back to School

It's me again, Margaret. Hi!! How was everyone's summer? Mine was ... well, uh, I don't want to use the word "bummer" because there were major bright spots, but it kinda started late and ended early? Seriously felt like November outside today. Anyhoodies, I'm trying to conjure some major Back 2 School spirit even though seeing NYU freshies on the sidewalk makes me feel absolutely ANCIENT (okay, and a little tingly too). I need motivation. And I miss back to school shopping SO MUCH. I used to plan my First Day Look with the fervor and discipline of Karl Lagerfeld. Fitting into Big Gap sizes circa 5th grade changed my life ... there was a denim-on-denim moment, a suspender situation ... fast forward to 2009 and I'm Blasé Barbie.

Until last weekend when, while selling half of my closet at Beacon's, I bought two new pairs of shoes: cinnamon suede bucks (possibly to be re-soled) and tan suede and nylon worker boots, sort of like generic Timberlands but in narrow width. Why doesn't anyone make narrow footwear these days? On semi-midgets like moi 9.5D's look like snow shoes. So I've decided my B2S look will be anti-fashion black-on-black with some non-sequiturs thrown in. Start with a 19-dollar faded black Uniqlo sweatshirt:


Paired with fresh black Levis 511's (it's all about tonal fading), scrunched up above said narrow suede construction worker boots. What a revolutionary concept! And when I'm feeling sportif:


these Adidas Country II running shoes. DYING for the hunter green-on-white-on-cream combo. So what if it has a thicker sole? Grandpa's fallen arches need support.

Don't I wish I could take road trips every weekend to see the changing leaves, browse flea markets, and sing along to wisftul tunes on my car radio? Of course! But I'm stuck here, sans wheels, listening to the crackhead outside my window scream "I NEVER HAD A FATHER FIGURE!!" at 4am (true story). Maybe I'll buy this 300TD and get the heck out of dodge:


Right. Instead I'll probably just head over to the impossibly stylish National Restaurant, where they always seem to be closed for a movie/teevee shoot (Gossip Girl?!?). Its interior and sign font have a Caribbean feel, pointing the inspiration compass towards My Jamaican Gal, Grace Jones:


As if that cover isn't awesome enough, the woman dated Dolph Lundgren:


Take note, today's "celebrity" pose-robots: this is how it's done. And speaking of inhuman strength, my back-to-school reading begins with C. Wright Mills' The Power Elite:


Now I'm about as political as a bag of Fritos but I love the title and that cover rocks my world.

Oh and I'm gonna decorate some too! Currently obsessed with any of Kazumi's prints for Clarence House in the 80's/early 90's:


I like the idea of mixing quirky African pastiche with the real deal:


This is the best image of an African birthing chair I could find, but how cool would it look next to a modern armchair or little French slipper thingie upholstered in the leopard above, beside a low, slouchy, solid satin sofa? The answer is VERY. Trust me, I graduated Summa Cum Cool from the School of Hypothetical Interior Design.

Monday, August 17, 2009

Arbitrary Trend Forecast: Vermiculate Rustication

Partly because I love verbiage and partly because I have more than a few Rain Man qualities, I tend to wander around New York subconsciously repeating certain words or phrases. Otherwise I'm in an iPod trance, mouthing Whitney Houston lyrics on the subway. Listen, my job involves a lot of shlepping ... one must stay entertained.

EXAMPLE: while stomping up Park Avenue past a particularly austere limestone apartment building (not to the strains of Sara Bareilles' "Love Song," which Mugatu teasingly says is my anthem) I start with, "What's that brick action on the sides called, the kind that gets smoother as you go up? Oh yeah, rustication. Rustication rustication rustication RUSTICATE MY LOVE rustication."


Then later that day whilst sifting through the sample bins: "Oooh, I love these discontinued Oscar de la Renta fabrics with the squiggly design ... what's that called again? Oh yeah, vermicelli. Like the pasta. Hey didn't some salesperson at Cowtan & Tout call it a 'go-with' when I was last there? I just love archaic terminology! Like when my dad told me something 'wasn't worth a tinker's darn' and the then he didn't even know what a tinker did! Vermicelli, vermicelli, go-with me vermicelli ..."


I really should seek professional help.

But then I saw Diogo's post on the in all its goopy, rusticated glory and got reinspired. And the next day in a cab I passed the Versace flagship on 5th Avenue:


A former Vanderbilt mansion with Keith Haring-esque squiggles incised into limestone blocks ... two obsessions in one! Wikipedia tells me this style has its own name: vermiculate rustication, a chiseling process in which the rough is purposefully made to look rougher. Take heart, Courtney Love! Seriously, I love how modern this looks. Maybe Studio Printworks could vermicul-ize their lovely "Le Temple Des Grecs" wallpaper? Sadly both Haring and Stephen Sprouse are gone, but the world needs more cheery loop-de-loops. And more Renaissance Mannerism. And more 25-cent words!

Tuesday, August 11, 2009

Sally King Benedict

Sally Benedict is a true Southern belle I met once years ago but felt like I'd known forever. Not a Shirley MacLaine past-life situation, but close. She's also a SUPER talented artist whose works have this Rothko meets Twombly quality with Tidewater-twilight coloration (she's from Atlanta but studied in Charleston): wouldn't the abstracts below look right at home in Todd Romano's fabulous showroom? I think so. Some of these have already sold but check her site for other canvases and works on paper. Brava, Sally!




Tuesday, August 4, 2009

Made in the Shade

Sorry about that title, but there is a part of me that should be writing copy for Highlights. There's also that part that should be updating his blog but it's summer and I'm volunteering countless [happy] hours to my favorite cause, Operation Margarita Smile. Oh and of course my dream house, both the online version and this little opium den I'm crafting downtown. All the while with Sweet Eliza's request ringing in my ears:

I was wondering, could you do a post in which you expound upon general lamp shade preferences and rules?

But of course! Truth is, there are a lot of fugly lamp shades in The Market which is why I'm sort of a traditionalist here ... the "creative" or "contemporary" categories always fail, and fail HARD. I'm all about narrowing the field, so let's begin with the most versatile and reliably chic, the paper Empire shade:


Whether pure white, ivory, black, or craft paper, this is the basic shape and material that all the GOOD stores use on their lamp inventory (whether or not they'll sell it along with said lamp is another story). I love them atop Chinese (or any) porcelain, Robert Kime-y columns, modern prisms and everything in between. Just maybe not on spindly candlestick lamps, too bulky and wide. You can paint them to look like lacquer with oil-based paint or just trim the top and bottom edges with a contrast color like Mrs. B did to her lovely parchment rectangles, love that shape too. Gracious Home stores carry a great selection of side-pleated silk empire shades -- more delicate than a box pleat -- in a bunch of pretty colors for more $$ than paper but much less than what the custom stores charge. Of course you can trick these out with ribbon or fringe, too. Moving on!



The Coolie. Yes, like the hat. To me this shape looks best paired with something tall and skinny-ish, lamps that don't need the extra height of an Empire. Reminds me, there was this chrome-and-wood Deco candlestick lamp at the Hinson lighting sale with the tiniest little black lacquered coolie shade I wanted SO BADLY ... isn't it sad when 70% off still doesn't seal the deal? The shape kinda gives off a relaxed Michael Taylor/California/beach condo vibe so you don't often see them in fancy pleated fabrics or bedecked in trims and tassels ... that would look fug. Speaking of fabric-covered paper shades, a solid linen or silk or a subtle plaid or stripe can be pretty but I'm personally against loud patterned fabric ones or anything textured. Faux leather or suede? Shudder. All too decorator-y (It's a self-hating profession. I'm working through it.) It's also important to avoid heavy finishing on the edges, that bulbous mass of fabric you see on every shade at Crate & Barrel. Keep it clean.

Lastly, I'm not sure what to call this one:



Square Empire? So crisp and architectural, especially atop urn lamps or anything more curvy/baroque. I'm not a fan of the blocky lamp + blocky shade combo, again too postmodern. Check these out in Gil Schafer's old bedroom, oiled craft paper with a brown paper tape at the edge. Love!

That's it? What about drums, ovals, bells, and bouillottes ... all the other shades under the sun? In short: they're fugly! Harsh, but I dare say true. They're all too old lady or Victorian or cutesy or Sopranos-y or po-mo. Okay I can think of about two exceptions but stick with the above and you'll stay in chic territory.

Other rules of thumb:
1. Always use shades on chandelier bulbs (that is if you absolutely have to have a chandelier!!)
2. Always wise to bring the lamp with you to the shade store. If you're shopping online to replace an existing one, measure the top and bottom diameters, overall height and slant (if there is one). But trust me, getting the proper scale is so much easier in person!
3. Finials: again, keep it simple. Ball, urn or whatever matches the finish and won't distract from the lamp. Fleur de lis and Chinese characters are fussy and fugulous!
4. Harps and hardware: No one likes to see the socket or that metal pipe underneath on most lamps -- Mugatu has drilled this into me. Buy a lower harp so at eye level the shade begins at the tippy top of the lamp or just below. If there's no harp holder thingee (someone help me with the term!), try a shade clip and a small utility bulb, the kind you use in your fridge.

Whew. Operation Shade Verbosity complete.