Whatever Floats Your Boat

I know there are people around who say retail therapy is either negative or non-existant. I'm here to tell you things can make you happy. I've always thought this, god knows, I've felt it, and it was confirmed for me in November of 2011 when I read it on a Manhattan billboard.

Let me show you some examples of what has made me extremely happy of late. Exhibit A is this beautiful pair of antlers, given to me for my birthday by my three favourite people in the world.

Another extremely wonderful person gave me this print. It gives me a lift every time I read it, because I think if she thinks this, it must be at least a little bit true.

That self same person also gave me this for my birthday to add to my collection. There's something about spots that is always cheery.

I gave myself these beautiful lidded bowls, and they make me happy.

Right or wrong, I get a kick out of pretty things, and the people who visit my house do too.

It makes me happy to read this little plate on the wall because it used to hang in my mother's kitchen in my first home. I recently found a little note that Peach's had written, it said; "My bedroom is clean enough to be health, and dirty enough to be happy'. I would say this will remain her domestic affirmation forever.

This plate with the roses on it made me feel happy when I found it in an op shop. I love roses, I love pink and I thought it would look pretty on the wall. I'm no rocket surgeon.
The smaller plate appealed because it has orchids and a hummingbird on it, two symbols I relate to my father.

This peacock brought me happiness when I found it. I love shells and peacocks, so what's not love about a peacock made of shells? This kitschy loveliness hanging on my wall would have made my grandmother proud. She too had a fondness for kitsch.

I felt genuine joy when I found this 1940s shell shaped vase in pretty shades of grey and turquoise, my two favourite colours.

Even this humble $2.80 pineapple makes me feel good, and it smells beautiful too.

So there you go. My point is, if something makes you feel happy then consider yourself lucky. Enjoy. Whatever floats you're boat, I say.
Last week I watched a tv show on SBS about longevity. It is a subject which really fascinates me. I'm all for a long life, but the idea of eating nothing but bean sprouts and wheatgrass juice so I can live to 100 has little appeal for me.
This show had a man on it who was about 53 or 54, but due to his extremely calorie controlled diet and low percentage of fat, he had the body of a 19 year old. Can I tell you, he was the most miserable looking person I've seen in a long time, he barely cracked a smile, but for some reason he was hell bent on living to 100. 
My question is, would you want to live to 100 if that involved giving up virtually everything that made you happy; birthday cakes, champagne cocktails, the Christmas ham, whisky sours, creme caramel, gin and tonics, soft cheese? Me thinks a pretty lidded bowl will only get you so far happiness-wise.
I'm interested to know your thoughts.....  

Kips Bay Decorator Show House

Each year in New York a house or apartment is chosen to be decorated by a variety of designers, and money is raised through entry to see it, which goes to the Kips Bay Girls Club (or something?). The house is called the Kips Bay Decorator Show House and the 2012 one has just been unveiled.

I've found it almost impossible to steal photos of it, but they have been released on the New York Times website and you can see it here.

There's a whole story on it and a slideshow. If you can't find the link to the slideshow, click here. I've done all the hard work for you.

Since I couldn't show you the current rooms, below are some from previous years. Upscale NYC interiors are so different to ours in the Antipodes. These are utterly glamorous.

I love this blue below, especially with the olive and gold tones.

I find this room a bit ott, but if I were an Upper East Side waspy social butterfly, I could definitely do it.

Bathrooms are well represented.

I love this room. It's cosy and classic.

Love this interpretation of mid century style.

Here it is again.

Every New York penthouse needs a terrace.

I think this room can't quite decide what to do.

Love this outdoor area. Grey and natural timbers really do it for me.

This room is super glamorous, love all the classic pieces; wingback chair, topiary, basket chandelier, chesterfields, pedestal table, etc.

I love the comfy formality of this room too, with a bit of pink thrown in for good measure.

Kitchen. Looks familiar.

There's nothing like an understated bedroom for a good nights sleep.

Interesting, isn't it? Have a look at this year's rooms if you have the time. Beautiful. 

Pretty things

I have recently been given some beautiful things, like this Wedgwood vase in a pattern called Sweet Plum, from my Mamma.

My sisters and father got together and gave me some beautiful quartz and gold earrings. I love them, but they are reluctant photo subjects and this is the best I could do - which isn't very good at all, in fact, you can barely make out they're earrings.

A lovely friend gave me a much-longed-for Waterman pen. I love it because it's heavy and quite masculine, and of course, beautifully made. He's a powerful pen.

A couple of wonderfully thoughtful girlfriends found this swan for me. I think it will have many incarnations, at the moment it's an orange holder.

The occasion for this gift giving was my 40th birthday, which was on April 5.
If you are on the cusp of your own 40th, do not fear. I didn't wake up with a face full of wrinkles, or feeling any different to when I went to bed.
Forty is a very poignant age me thinks. It's no longer feasible to put things off for 'when I grow up'. The time is now. It's an age that signifies a half way mark some what. It's a time to pause, catch your breath and make sure you're on the right path still. Or at least, it feels like that for me. I'm looking forward to my forties, whole-heartedly.
Enough about that. Onward and upward.

The New York Times website is my home page, which isn't really a good idea, because I can accidentally browse it for half an hour or more every time I turn my computer on. I found this interesting story today, about people who are caretakers to the 19 grand homes owned by the City of New York, most of them like Van Cortlandt House, which is pictured above. The caretakers are more or less regular people who are lucky enough to live in these grand homes, rent free. You can read the story here.

Here's a kitty in a brolly, just to finish off. That's it.

Advanced style

If you think you hit a certain age, turn into dust and disappear, think again. I love the Advanced Style blog. You can read it here or click on the link in my blog list below.
Ari Seth Cohen is a New Yorker and features women of an advanced age who we could all learn something from. Case in point is Beatrix Ost. Isn't she beautiful? Her husband is still spunky too.

This is Lynn Dell. Lynn is 78.  

They're a dignified, beautiful bunch of women who are not desperately clinging to youth and running around in hot pants (I'm talking to you, Madonna). They don't necessarily want to look younger, but rather just the best version of themselves.
This is Mimi Weddell. I think these photos were taken when she was around 90. She's passed on now, but she had a documentary made about her called 'Hats Off'. She was a model and actress in New York from the late 60s, and always 'maintained herself'.

This is artist Victoria Mackenzie Childs.

I shall leave it there. Next time you think you can't be bothered with doing your hair and make-up and popping on a frock, think of Mimi and Lynn and Beatrix.
Have a look at Advanced Style when you get a chance, I think you'll find it very inspiring.

New York Part III - Shopping, the final chapter

While in New York I visited Bergdorf Goodman. I was expecting a brightly lit, cavernous pavilion of a store, but it was quite the opposite. The ceilings are low, the rooms are small and the lighting is dim, all exquisite of course.
We had lunch in their dining room, where 'ladies lunch'. It was beautiful, but the women eating there all looked un-nervingly similar to each other. I imagine there must be some nervous husbands standing at the door of the dining room some days, trying to locate their wife amongst 75 look-alikes.

I bought these red, suede shoes at Bergdorfs. I haven't worn them yet. They're quite 'flamenco' with a perfect stacked heel, so I can walk comfortably in them. There's nothing worse than girls all dressed up in ridiculous heels trotting around with the grace of a transvestite.

I have loved Anthropologie from afar for many years, so I was beside myself to actually go in there. You can shop on-line now and they'll deliver to Australia, even sale items. To have a look click here.

I bought this dress. It's a terrible photo. It's actually navy blue, and it's a style that Anthropologie release continually in different colours. The ribbon is from The Tinsel Trading Co, a beautiful haberdashery in New York, that has been open for a hundred years, and they regularly put out vintage stock to sort through. If only I were crafty.

After trying on every sparkly jacket in Manhattan, I decided on the one from Anthro.

Now, let's chat cosmetics for a minute. I'd heard how much less they were in America and made a b-line to the cosmetics counter of Saks Fifth Avenue. 'Oh, we always get the a-straylians in here buying up big. It's so expensive for you there' - Say the cosmetics counter staff, while pouting with their heads cocked sideways.

For example, the shampoo I use in Australia is $19 - in New York it's $8. We pay $20 for a bottle of O.P.I. polish here, there it's around $6-8.

My Estee Lauder foundation is $77 here, there $35. My question is, who is getting that money?

KitchenAid mixers, $199 in the US, at least $685 in Australia. I know we have to factor in freight, but are 10 of those KitchenAid machines sharing a cabin on a P & O cruise to get here? I would have thought they'd show up in a cardboard box.

Even after tips, getting around in a cab and eating out is so much cheaper in New York, a famously expensive city. I caught a cab from Red Hill to the Convention Centre recently, didn't get caught in any traffic, and it was $20. The meter just ticked over and ticked over. The cab driver told me that it costs $400,000 to buy one cab license in Brisbane now. What??

Anyway, enough. I had fun and hauled my massive suitcases through Customs with the super-human-strength usually observed in people who must lift heavy objects off loved ones trapped underneath.

New York Part II - The Guggenheim

I planned to spend most of my time in New York people watching, eating out and doing everyday things to see what life was really like there. I was adamant that I didn't want to spend all day in museums looking at art that was irrelevant to the city itself.
However, after we walked through Central Park we crossed Fifth Avenue and went to the Solomon R Guggenheim Museum.
For an $18 entry fee I was dazzled, by the exhibition inside as well as the building itself.
Solomon Guggenheim is Peggy's uncle. We all know Peggy, if you don't, get googling. No one rocks a pair of specs like Peggy.

Solomon commissioned Frank Lloyd Wright to design the art gallery. After only 15 years, 700 sketches and six sets of working drawings, he nailed it.

The Guggenheim was opened in 1959 and houses a magnificent collection of Impressionist, Post-Impressionist, Early Modern & Contemporary Art.
It's distinctive curves have been used in squillions of movies, I saw it myself earlier in the year when I took the girls to see Mr Poppa's Penguins.
As luck would have it, the exhibition that was on at the time was Maurizio Catalan. I happened to know him because my husband and I accidentally watched a documentary on him one rainy Sunday afternoon, and we were fascinated.
He is Italian but lives in New York. He's never shown a collection of his work like this before and apparently it took some convincing. The only way he'd do it is if his pieces were suspended from the ceiling.
It worked well since the inside of the gallery has an ascending, circular ramp.

Catalan is big on taxidermy. This horse is one of his most famous works.

Everyone needs a massive Picasso.

This is the artist himself, but I didn't see this piece in the exhibition.

He has a very dark sense of humour. I think he polarizes the masses. This little squirrel below is slumped over the kitchen table, the gun lays on the floor. He'd obviously had enough for one reason or another.
Some of Catalan's work is just too dark, like the hanging children, which I photographed but haven't included here. Apparently when they were exhibited in Italy, hanging from a tree, one poor many finally had to climb up and cut them down.

The ku klux klan elephant was hanging from the ceiling at the Guggenheim.

There was also an exhibition of Kandinsky in one of the smaller galleries at the Guggenheim, plus I saw this Picasso called Lobster and Cat. I want it.

And I didn't make it to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, the Museum of Modern Art, the Jewish Museum, the Museum of Natural History........
I'll do them next time.