White, still, at the end

There is something to be said about white bouquets, non?

A post-birthday rant

I have often felt that all my birthdays went sort of downhill after 22. Somehow age and personal growth kind of built up to that magical, independant yet irresponsible number and after that, it never really seemed so attractive again.

When I talk to companies, one of the most demurred questions is, when you say double-digit growth, do you mean...teens or twenty-teens? Something with a 2 in front of it, now that is a real double-digit, it's good stuff. But now, age-wise, I am headed to a region that is beyond good stuff. It's so high, it doesn't even get talked about. I'm starting to feel there's nothing between me, my parents, retirement and old age but the business of life. It's a pretty awful feeling, the type that makes you want to buy aviator shades, denim shorts and a snowboard and literally, run away from Van Winkle.

The other thing that is troubling me, is that I seem to be... aging in design taste. And that really does bother me. I'll be the first to admit I was never bohemian. I don't like dirt and tarnish. And a roll-on carry is as close as I've ever got to backpacking. I'm picky, rather than appreciative of vintage. I'm no more than grey-felt-with-red-stiching-and-a-spotted-guinea-feather bohemian, I get it. Still, I was always sort of a post-industrialist at best crossed with Pottery Barn at worst. I believed I was modern Californian casual even if, I was a closet conservative. I would have short jasper grass lawns over dark potted fronds anytime.

So please tell me, why I actually like the two pictures above? I actually like the mirrored surface cupboards, the white walls and the staid tan carpet. I understand no longer being young, I just can't grasp that I'm starting to like the estate look. Then I found out this is one of Elizabeth Taylor's properties in Palm Springs. Palm Springs furniture. Grief!

The next thing you know, I'll be all-in for geometric cut-out screens and velvet-flocked wallpaper and Kenneth Cobonpue deck furniture. Then life as I know it will really be over.

I'll stop ranting now. And just to make myself feel better, I'll add pictures that I liked. Like, from before I got old.

Mourning the passing of winter

Another year gone by without enough ski.

Beige and Coral

There is something about the colour tone of skin and eggs, something in between beige, coral and peach. I wish I could describe it as "nubile" but it turns out, the word doesn't mean anything like that. I wish it did though, rather than an ugly word like "membrane".

A comfortable home

I was asked by a few people and sadly, no ,that is not what the house looks like. I wish it was! I've just been taking some inspiration from bathroom tiles, fair-face brick finishes and bedrooms. I have a foreboding about how long and involved this project is going to be and that it's not really going to speak to my love of interior designs as much as rough-and-tumble hacking, construction, sanding, doorway-framing and cementing, to try to get this place back to somewhere in the modern century!

We're trying to add as much glass as possible, to open up the spaces and light up the interior of the space. I would also love to strip the staircase into an exposed structure, update the bathrooms and paint the bedrooms back into smooth, nuanced comfortable spaces.

Work, barely started

A property is a bit like a baby. It's a space to call your own and a blank canvas, apartments and terraces in particular, which are very interesting tight spaces. If you are like me, it'd be great fun to watch the space change, to see walls go down, to replace dark with light and glass. Then once it's changed, well, maybe you get tired of it, it's like a infatuation that grows old and starts to show imperfections. And then, like a child that grows up, you sell it off to a new suitor and it no longer belongs to you.


Maybe that's my way of saying that it's like an emotional journey, one that has little reflection on the child but requires you, as the parent, to grow up. Recently, we undertook a switch from a new property, to an old one. It is a scary prospect, a bit like staring down a black hole that sucks away time and money. The prospect of starting over, without the novelty of the first baby, leaves less of a palette to dream. This is a classic second child- more substance, less bells and whistles, less upside, more work. There is the sobriety of experience and hopefully, a better understanding of what to strip down and what to build up. We are in very early days, so early that barely the beginning is in sight, so here are some aspirations.

Some incredible pictures

For some reason, I put these photos together under the same theme, I guess they are all baby bird photos! From time to time, I like to save incredible pictures that my friends send me and I thought these were really marvellous. The first picture is of our friend's couple-days-old newborn baby and his parents lying fast asleep together, the composition and colours are just gorgeous! It looks like one of those unposed, slightly hippie family Christmas cards.

The latter two pictures were from another friend who had rescued two baby birds that fell out of a nest at her home and her family were desperately trying to keep them alive and going by taking up their care. Again, such a lovely evocative sentiment in the photos and an awesome National Geographic type scale of the size of the baby birds in her palm.