Leg Up! A Kelly Wearstler Christmas Story?

Far be it from me to question Bergdorf Goodman's judgment of chic gifts,

but this table sculpture by Kelly Wearstler

(from Gifts to Captivate advertisement in NY Mag)

reminds me of the leg lamp from A Christmas Story.

Perhaps Ms. Wearstler has been watching holiday movies a little early this year?

And Even More Selv-Indulgence

I was delighted to receive these PDFs this morning from Selvedge.  They represent my first proper feature for the magazine, a story about French artist and interior designer Pascale Palun. 

If you haven't seen Selvedge in a good magazine shop, do look for it.  The thick paper, the beautiful layouts, even the ads are a visual and tactile pleasure. (You can click on the image to read the text.)

Your Mother's Bag

"Not your mother's" (or "Na-cho mama's" chez mes trois enfants) is a common catchphrase in advertising.

Indeed, it's not unusual to see an editorial borrowing this phrase.

While filing through the mountaneous pile of seasonal catalogues that has been arriving steadily since Nov. 1, I leafed through a new Harper's Bazaar and was struck by an item that was very much my mother's: a gorgeous, structured, boxy handbag.

Made by Roger Vivier, this bag is, to my mind, perfectly grown up, and reminds me of something my mum would have carried while wearing a matching coat and dress, her hair in a chignon.

So here's an instance where my children say "Yo mama!" and I'll happily agree.

Shear Delights

Tonight, surprised by a snow flurry, I realized it was time to replace my screen windows with storms. 

As I live in an ancient Victorian home, I have a selection of pretty but quirky windows, some low enough to reach, some high enough that I must commission some help. 

Maybe this wasn't my ideal Friday night task, but I admit, I loved the opportunity to put on some wintery outerwear.

To wit: Le Chameau rubber boots and a vintage New Zealand shearling jacket. 

I don't know about you, gentle readers, but I simply adore winter outerwear: boots, down jackets, scarves, mittens, berets.  It's either a simple summer dress or piles of outergarments that make me feel most comfortable. 

But I draw the line at climbing a ladder to my overly high second floor to put in a storm window, shearling or not.

Princess Diaries

Updated with a personal photo of Princess Diana

Long before Lady Diana Spencer arrived on the scene, I was in search of a princess to emulate.

When I was about six years old, I beame aware of Princess Anne, who is a dewy yet composed 21 in this photo.

Seeing this image again, I marvel at how modern, yet Lady of Shallot-inspired it is.

And here is a detail of a Polaroid I took of Princess Diana during her first visit to PEI, in June 1983.  I had just turned 18 and was in full princess-adoration mode.
 

In fact, in September that same year, when I went away to university, one of my first purchases was a Laura Ashley dress that closely approximated this blue one.
   

 I've posted this image here before but as it fits my princess theme, I hope you'll forgive a second viewing.

Violet and Olive

I know: the title to this post reads like a twee children's label.

That connection's not inappropriate, though, for I have gleaned colour inspiration from the considerably upscale children's catalogue Papo d'Anjo.

Children's clothing usually doesn't translate into colours or styles that I would like for myself, but I find the combination of violet and olive irresistible. 

Now: to find a grown-up sized version of this colour palette (that doesn't involve cable-knit cashmere)!

Modelskip

Do you know the proofreader's worry of "eyeskip"?  It happens when you read a sentence that's missing word, but your eye fills it in automatically.

I experienced a similar phenomenon yesterday while spying the new L. L. Bean Signature catalogue out of the corner of my eye.  From my vantage point, the model on the cover resembled Carolyn Murphy, of early Prada, mid Lauder, and late Tiffany fame.

So when I actually paged through the catalogue, I was still under the illusion that the blonde model was Murphy, until I snapped out of it!

This instance of "modelskip" reminded me of the years when I was convinced that Carmen Kass was the daughter of Carmen dell Orefice.  File these model genealogies under the late, great Spy magazine's Separated at Birth feature.