Out of office

Hello! Except I'm not really here. All being well, I'm on my way here...

Yep. I'm off for the longest holiday I've had in years, on a road trip from Nashville Tennessee, down through the Mississippi Delta and then up for some luxury and a family reunion in New York City. We are actually staying in the place pictured above for a few days, even though (to my urban, British eyes, it doesn't look as it it can possibly be anything other than a film set). It's called the Shack Up Inn. It looks amazing.

I shall take many photos. You shall see the good ones.

Meanwhile, happy May and see you towards the end of the month. Yee-haw!

Giving good gift

It was my birthday this week. My friends are very kind. I have already shared the beautiful early birthday present I got from Abi in this previous post...

...and now a few other very nice surprises (and this isn't even including the hugely surprising and marvellously great bicycle that came careering down the hill in the park at me, festive ribbons flying from the handlebars – but a photo of that is probably for a different blog entirely).

The beautiful print on the left is of the Crystal Palace tower, in south London. I live in south London – not right by the tower, but near enough that it's always visible on the skyline when you look south. Which is because it's the fourth tallest structure in the capital, and it has been providing Londoners with a TV signal since it went up amid the ruins of the former Crystal Palace in 1956. What a lovely present for a south Londoner. Or maybe just for a TV fan. Ha. Anyway, if you like it, the sticker on the back of the print say it's from Sold by Sold, where I see they have had these prints in stock but are currently out, and waiting for a new colourway.

The plate is by Carly Dodsley, whose crockery is made in England's traditional ceramics epicentre, Stoke-on-Trent. It all has a nice hint of midcentury about it, and I love those late 50s colours.

The "K" in this great font comes from Tiger, which is a favourite shop of the lovely friend who gave it to me. Be warned, its website will absorb much of your morning.

Loveliest of all, of course, is the beautiful cake card drawn by my boyfriend's very small and very excellent niece, Isabella. She's two. And she is very good at drawing!

I also got this...

 ...which came from a charity shop. Who could throw Luther out? And a gift that inspires a spontaneous 80s disco (and a surprise martini) is surely a gift that keeps giving.

Finally, a sweet ending. Beautiful old French plates, which arrived bearing extra gifts in the form of these beautiful muffins. They look pretty, but my god you should have tasted them: blueberries, lemon zest and almonds. They didn't last long.

Thank you friends. You are great.

One-bedroom? No problem. My stylish neighbours' bijou flat

My neighbours have style. And I've been meaning to commit their flat to this blog for several years. Finally, I coerced them into inviting me over and got in there with my camera.

I first encountered one half of Emma and Sarah (the Emma half) the day I moved in. I was hauling furniture across the threshold when she appeared, explaining she'd been watching out of her window  to see what sort of furniture I had before introducing herself. You've got to warm to someone who shamelessly tells you it was the sight of your coffee table that made them want to say hello.

Emma is a hugely talented sculptor (she was part of the team that made the figues on the Queen's Jubilee barge, to give you an idea...), while Sarah is a hugely terrifying barrister for the CPS (well, I imagine she's scary in court, though not at all alarming outside of work).

They have lived in their one-bedroom flat for 15 years – during which time they've transformed it from a leaky two-bedroomed space with broken gas bar fires into a sleek but homely, open-plan apartment, packed with interesting and beautiful things, including the gleaming pair of Tom Dixon ceiling pendants you can see above. I have spent a lot of time drinking tea or wine at that gorgeous kitchen table, feeling like I should go home and finish all those lingering odd-jobs around my own house. And it all shows how much you can do with a small space, if you do it well...

Love how this battered, over-size leather chair looks draped in clashing patterns and in front of the flat's clean white walls.

"We have read all of the books but love them for their orange bindings," they say.

The open-plan living room/kitchen as seen from the other end of the flat.

"This is a cast of Michelangelo’s ‘David’," explains Emma. "The two long figures and the tea caddy came from our local Barnardos and the hare was a gift from a very generous friend, Belinda and the chocolate mould of a rabbit was from a flea market in Brooklyn. The wire 3D triangle thing was from San Francisco."

The office corner. Love the red fairy lights. You can't go wrong with fairy lights – they add sparkle to anything. (And if you were to look out of that window, you might see me taking the rubbish out.)

The bedroom. The matching red letters (S and E) either side of the bed were a gift from Emma and Sarah's friend, Devan. They think the letters were originally on the front of an old carpet shop in the area.

The wallpaper is Silver Birch from Cole & Sons. "We could only  afford one roll," they say.

That is one serious bath. I really like how plain the bathroom is, letting the colourful old signage on the wall stand out. The brick-formation tiles are plain as can be too – the lack of decorative bevelled edges is what gives them that nice, crisp, clinical look.

Sarah and Emma’s beautiful fish plates are a set of six, all different colours. They are 1960s English Ironstone, and the range is called ‘Aquarius’. They also come in a ‘Beefeater’ range (the design is psychedelic cows rather than the tourist burger chain). You can read about those, here.

This is Emma’s latest piece of work, they are a portrait of Zoe, a model from the college where Emma studied. They are cast in cement fondue and mounted on a piece of marble from the altar at Westminster Cathedral, which was salvaged by Emma after the altar was moved two feet when the Pope visited a year or so ago. Next to the portrait are some stones with holes through them collected from a beach in Norfolk.

The wig is in regular use as is the law book. And the sheep/rabbit was given to Sarah by Emma when she was called to the bar because the symbol of her Inn is is lamb and it looks like a barrister’s wig.

All that, and I got a delicious lunch...

Read more about Emma and Sarah – and see more images of their place – over here.

Find out more about Emma's stone carving and sculpting work at her website. 

Fuck your piles of books with things on top...

Hello, it's Abi posting today. Kate's recent post on colour-themed shelves (and the nod to the witty FYNC website that knowingly mocks such interiors mag leanings) got lots of "yep, guilty as charged" reactions. Including my own. 

With permission, we'll post up some of your own excellent over-stylings shortly (so keep them coming) but meanwhile, browsing through FYNC again, I was reminded that, yes, I spend far too much time artfully arranging piles of books with a small objet (do omit the "c" for extra design-led twatness) on top. And that – just sometimes – perhaps I can take things a bit too seriously. So I've rounded up some of the most sublime and ridiculous design moments in our house. Do have a look-see...

Look at all our cool old LPs!

Hey, why not display your books as artworks!

I have an uncomfortable amount of 1970s coffee pots!

Yes, I have made these decisions and I stand by them. But I also laugh long and hard at me too.

And I know my printer's tray jewellery holder should score top marks for total Noguchi Table fuck-offery, but I also absolutely know it's the best way to store tiny stuff that gets tangled, lost, scratched and broken. One point back to me.

But I leave the prize for the most design-ridiculous thing we've done to our house to the infamous Golden Nook. Yes, this tantalisingly named area (already qualifying for having a title) is a tiny corner of our house in our spare bedroom. A tiny pointless corner fit only for displaying marvellous things in. "I know," says the husband, "let's gold leaf it so it reflects and shimmies and oscillates" and several other wildly eloquent things. "OK," I say.

The nook is TINY. But gold leaf comes in even tinier packets costing, well, a packet. So... many hours of artisanal dabbing from the husband later, we got our golden nook. One that cost the GDP of Bulgaria. "It's very lovely," I say to the husband, "but, um, can't you get tins of gold paint from, oh I don't know, B&Q, that cost about ten quid?" I shan't repeat his reply.

So come on, 'fess up and share your own over-styling shames with us. Look, even Kate has shared her own "thing on a pile of books". You're among friends...

Introducing... Objects of Use

If you like the long-standing utilitarian London shop, Labour & Wait, you'll love Objects of Use. The shop has both a physical presence (in Oxford) and a cleanly designed online shop.

I came across the shop while writing my monthly page for (gorgeous) magazine The Simple Things, all about slowing down to enjoy... you guessed it. It's about as different from your average women's magazine as you could get, so if you don't already know it and that sounds like it would appeal – do give it a go. Meanwhile...

Objects of Use sells “enduring household tools and functional items". The shop aims to source “the best versions” of everything it sells – and its concept sprang, partly, from co-founder, Alex Dexter’s growing disdain for a ubiquitous brand of plastic floor mop. “It annoyed me that everyone had stopped selling what was clearly a better product,” he explains, “and replaced it with these plastic things.” As such, the shop sells “proper” cotton mops and metal buckets.

Dexter, runs the beautifully old-school Oxford shop with his wife Hazel and, alongside good mops, they sell – for example (as there is lots of stock to browse) – beautifully sturdy pieces of Austrian enamelware, beechwood and horsehair mushroom brushes, and classic rattan carpet beaters. All are typically made (and made to last) by family-run firms using generations-old traditional manufacturing methods. It is a proud rejection of what the couple call "throwawayism". Besides, as they say, “Having the right tool for the job vastly improves the experience of completing our daily tasks.” Quite.

Table dustpan and brush, £25
Swedish-made oiled beech and horsehair dustpan/ brush set for sweeping crumbs from the table. Look how neatly it fits together, and note the satisfyingly designed hanging hole. The set is made in a studio where visually impaired craftsmen have been hand making brushes since the late 1800s.

Mariskooli bowls, £16-49
These classic Finnish sweet, snack or ice-cream bowls were designed by Maija Isola of Marimekko in 1960, but are said to have been based upon a traditional bowl she had found and fallen in love with at a flea market. Comes in two sizes.

Knitted linen towels, £25-£50
Hand and bath towels knitted from natural un-dyed linen yarn. The loose knitted structure apparently increases surface area whilst drying and allows better air circulation during airing. Made by the same Swedish studio behind the dustpan and brush set above.

Spun aluminium food containers/lunch-pails, £11-£15
Nice red lids, tight rubber rubber seals, and a simple bar and snap closure, these containers are made by a small metalworks on the Iberian peninsular. Pretty up the inside of your fridge or cupboard – better still, they're perfect to take on outings if today's glorious picnic weather prevails.oss by 5.5cm deep.

Shop online at Objects of Use