A Study in Black and White

While we are on the subject of The Classics, let's take a moment to enjoy the majesty that is BLACK AND WHITE.

I have been reading this book lately by Celerie Kemble.

A Study in the Classics

Remember when I posted a photo of this beautiful house, and some of you pointed out that it is actually in Rockhampton. As I've said many times, I grew up in Rockhampton. It's a town that usually makes the news for all the wrong reasons, but it actually has some ridiculously beautiful old Queenslanders, so many in fact that some of them are sitting in a state of decay.
This one however, Cooloola, is quite the opposite. It is the picture of perfection, and I've now had permission of the owner to show you the inside.

Let's skirt around the outside a tad more first.

This house is a perfect example of why some bits and pieces are considered classic. They just work, they're beauitful and they don't go out of fashion. Take that timber planter box at the front door,for example. That style of planter is at the front door of many a fancy address on Park Avenue in New York.

I recently bought a white Didier Parakian dress. Five minutes after I put it on, I had spilt make up on the front of it. I could never live in a house like this, but I take great delight in looking upon it.

It's all in the details.....

There's a young lady in the house. This is her quarters.

What more can you wish for than a pink bath tub?

A study in blue.

This is what life in the tropical north should look like.

Rhythm and symmetry. So reassuring.

Excuse me. Pineapples.

In case you're wondering, and I'm positively sure you are, this is the lady responsible for this big pile of wonderful.
Frances Russell, wife, mother of three, interior decorator, designer. I imageine Frances' home is a tomato sauce/soy sauce/red wine free zone.

If you're needing any decorator services, go to www.francesfussellinteriors.com.au
You can also read Frances' blog at www.beautifulinteriorsand18thcenturystyle.blogspot.com

Thanks again Frances!

The New Rug

Our issue du jour for downstairs is currently the lighting. In a moment of desperation, I suggested we go to Ikea to see if there was a light there we could alter. My husband considers Ikea a four letter word, and rightly so. They're producing a frightening amount of land fill in that enormous blue and yellow shed.
To his credit, after some pacing in the carpark, he got on board with the idea. He even spotted this cream and black geometric rug there, and threw it over his shoulder on the way to the check out, like a caveman with a mammoth's shin bone. I have to admit, it is a very lovely rug, but at $129 there has to be some sort of slave labour involved doesn't there?
The new rug prompted a bit of movement at Chez Motherwell. A freshly arranged room is as good as a holiday if you ask me.

Indeed, this chair begs the question, 'why am I facing away from the sunset'?

The dingo had her first birthday on August 1st, which is apparently every horse's birthday? We didn't know that.

She's behaving like a little truffle pig here because the girls hid food around the garden for her, like a party game.