Saturday, December 6, 2008

Scarfing Down some Art

Last summer I was doing some research in Salem, Massachusetts, and after climbing up the skinny secret staircase in the House of the Seven Gables, after admiring Hawthorne’s Custom House, and after dodging the kitschy witchy haunts to locate the more serious, sober monument to the trials, I treated myself to the Peabody Essex Museum.

After spending some time in the exhibits I wandered through the gift shop, and, to my surprise and delight, found a scarf by Margo Selby, who had been known to me only through the wonderfully curated advertising pages of Selvedge magazine. (I buy Selvedge as much for the fabulous advertisers as for the gorgeous photographs of textiles.)

Selby is a London-based fabric designer who makes textured, *bubble* fabric in sturdy silk. She crafts throws, pillows, small bags, and scarves, to name but a few items. My scarf is in the *parrot* colorway (see color scheme of the sachet on the left in first photo) and I love how it is both tough and elegant with a jacket or coat.

As the cold, snowy weather comes, I’m drawn more and more to scarves and winter wear, so you may be seeing more of that on my blog. Or maybe not. For as soon as I proclaim something, I usually do the opposite. It’s that contrary nature.

Perhaps it’s frightfully cliché to buy a piece from an art museum gift shop. Perhaps it screams *deliberately arty* in the way that long, boxy clothing with precise architectural cuts does.

Que sera sera. Whatever Selby, Selby.


enc said...

What a superb pun, miss cav.

I don't think it's cliché to buy something you love. Who cares about it's provenance?

materfamilias said...

Okay, now that was goooooooD! That was a pun, well and truly! (and enc should know, having left a great one in my comments yesterday). One might almost suspect you of having constructed an entire post around these scarves simply to be able to finish with that pun.

miss cavendish said...

Ahh materfamilias,

I'm innocent this time--didn't even know where this post was going until the penultimate paragraph. But Anthony Lane of the New Yorker is *surely* guilty of structuring his film reviews that way. My favorite end line of his is "Faster Pussycat--Kilt! Kilt!" from his review of Braveheart.

La Belette Rouge said...

Love can be found at the most unexpected places, even a museum shop. I am glad you went for love and didn't let the location stop you.

Anonymous said...

Oooooo, ahhhhhh. Love these and so what if they came from a museum. We deserve to be treated like we're museum-quality, don't we?

Songy said...

Museum shops are actually the best place to find really great designs in Perth. yay for arty farty!