Notes From A Show House

Fresh from my visit to the 2010 Pasadena Showcase House of Design, here is what I learned...

1. I can love a really large space and a really small space for exactly the same reasons. The Drawing Room, above, and Retreat, below, shared the following: honey-toned panelled woods, decorative ceilings (one painted, one panelled), beautiful overhead lighting (a pair of antique reproduction chandeliers in one room, a single Fortuny pendant in the other), furniture that actually looked comfortable and not just set out for show, and direct access to the outdoors. That I could be equally happy and at ease in each space says something about my personal preferences but is also a credit to the designers who made them both so approachable, functional and warm despite the challenge of size.


2. It really is the details that make the difference when it comes to good design. All through the house, the things I took note of had less to do with the overall look of a room than with a specific detail that could be reproduced in a room of any size and at nearly all price points. For example, the double ruffle on the top edge of a sheer, fixed, shirred curtain panel hung for privacy at the lower half of a very tall window. The narrow ribbon edging each of those ruffles was a slightly darker tone that added a dressed-up crispness to an otherwise nondescript window treatment.

3. It is very frustrating trying to recount such details about the show house when no photography is allowed. Can anyone explain to me why that is?

4. Good design repeats itself and repetition brings order.

Like multiple dog prints on the mudroom walls, above. A row of potted succulents lined up down the center of a table or winding through a rose garden. Books with similar colored bindings massed into a bookcase of nearly the same hue can unite and "neutralize" a large wall of built-ins; what could have been chaotic visual noise became a calm but still interesting background.

5. In a residence of 50 rooms, there are a lot of redundant spaces. Morning Room, Breakfast Room plus a table and chairs within the kitchen itself. Three Sitting Rooms and a Drawing Room, also for sitting. Solarium on the first floor, Sun Room on the second. You must be very clear about which bedroom you say you'll take your breakfast in when there are eleven of them. I have decided that I am very happy not to have this particular problem. But, for the record, as I don't have one now, I wouldn't mind a private Sun Room next to my bedroom. Or an upstairs Retreat with connected balcony. Or both.

6. I am too traditional to enjoy juxtaposition simply for the sake of it. The Cravens Estate is a beautiful house built in 1930 with elements borrowed from a classic French chateau. Original details still present include a series of large murals in the entry. For the Showcase, the murals were preserved and restored. Then the designer of the space added these:

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An ultra-modern, glossy black totem, a space-dominating black console down the center of the room, lime-colored accents and upholstery, and a black Lalanne-esque sheep the docent called "Tommy". It was all a bit too much for me. What do you think?

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7. I may be traditional, but I do love an eclectic mix of styles and colors. The large, formal dining room with its original murals and painted ceiling was furnished with two round tables rather than the more expected long rectangle. It appeared as if the guests had momentarily stepped away from a lavish birthday party in progress. Seating was a mish-mash of brightly upholstered chairs and an ottoman or two. Even the mix of lighting styles is appealing in this photo, below, but I swear those Ikea Maskros pendants were not in the room when I was. Could I have been so distracted by the party that I missed them? If they were removed, I wonder why?

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8. There really is such a thing as too many crystal chandeliers. A narrow, lady's closet contained five. The connected dressing room, a few more in sconce form. The adjacent hallway, yet another. Too much, too many.

9. I hope no client of mine ever wants to outfit her office with a desk chair straight out of an Austin Powers movie. The room below displayed a very creative mix of colors and textures, but I am not the person to call if this is your style. I know my limitations and exactly to whom I will refer you.

10. When dining out of doors, there should be plants to admire near the table as well as a mature garden in the distance (even if that distance is only twenty feet further away at the edge of your small yard). The outdoor dining area my friend and I enjoyed was bordered by a row of espaliered apple trees under-planted with colorful, textural ground covers and small border plants. Plants near the table add a closed-in coziness that alters your perspective of the surrounding garden; having something to look beyond makes the "beyond" appear further away than it is.

11. I discovered an interesting new-to-me way to achieve a unique display of art in your home. This bit of fun needs its own post. Stay tuned...

That's all I have to say for now about the Showcase House. Should you go? I can't really say. There was a lot to see, but I didn't like being herded through like cattle. The shops offered unique and beautiful things but were expensive for someone who doesn't drop two hundred bucks on jewelry and table linens without more than a few minutes' (or a few days') thought. The Wolfgang Puck dining experience was lovely but my quiche was under-cooked. The house itself with all of its original elements is gorgeous, some of the decorating decisions too "showhousey" (but that's to be expected). If you have a good friend to share the day and the drive with, as I did, you'll have a wonderful time even if you don't agree about the kitchen.

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Cravens Estate rendering by Eva Margueriette.

All photos by Alexander Vertikoff from the official program.

No, I didn't talk about the kitchen in this post. There were simply too many contradictory ideas and treatments and I still can't make heads or tails of it. The nicest thing I can say is that my friend and I agreed that the restored, original turquoise tile floor was fantastic and the best element in the room.

Thanks for the day, Leslie!

If you want to get a look at the house yourself, go here.

Luxury is. . .

. . .working at home on the day my first iris opens.

. . .camellias planted by our home's former owner that have continued to bloom faithfully every year.

. . .knowing that the last of our winter crop of oranges is waiting to brighten a few more breakfasts.

. . .this view from my office on a sunshiney day.

. . .a swing arbor covered with star jasmine vines that fill my house with their heady fragrance.
( I wish we had "smell-o-blog" so I could share it with you. )

. . .a brand new bicycle that's all decked out in pretty springtime colors!

Luxury is having a few extra hours of daylight at the end of the work day. For swinging... or gardening... or orange picking... or biking... or whatever else tickles my fancy. Luxury is having such beautiful weather and the time to thoroughly enjoy it on this first fine weekend of spring.

I hope you have such luxuries in your life.

DON'T FORGET TO GO TO [THIS POST] TO ENTER MY 100th POST GIVEAWAY. YOU HAVE UNTIL MIDNIGHT ON SUNDAY. HAPPY WEEKEND !

Field Trip: The Huntington, Part 3. The Garden's Promise of Spring

February, even in perpetually sunny Southern California, is not the best time to view a garden. And, truthfully, the gardens are not what drew me to visit on this day. My intent was to see the specific exhibit I showed you in my last post. To breeze in and out of The Huntington without focusing on the gardens or other galleries at all. But it had been too many years since my last visit and I was astounded all over again by the sheer size and contents of the place.

Here's the map again to reacquaint you with the scale of the grounds. 120 acres and twelve distinctive botanical gardens. See on the right side where it looks like it's cut off? It is. My scanner bed couldn't capture the whole thing. Within that corner you can't see, is more garden—specifically, the Chinese Garden and a huge Teaching Greenhouse. On this visit, we walked through every garden except the Chinese and the Desert and Lily Pond gardens which are in the opposite corner. In my defense, the place is huge! And as we paused to decide whether to go right through the desert or left toward the exit, it began to rain. So we left, with plans to visit again late in the spring. I can't wait to see how much it's changed by then.

Tea Room in the Rose Garden

Because this time of year is not the gardens' best, I didn't take many photos. Irises and other spring bulbs were just breaking through. Japanese maples and wisteria had only the tiniest hints of buds. Roses had been pruned back but their new red leaves were plentiful—a promise of the blooms to come. For true garden enthusiasts, it is interesting to see the full cycle of things. And I do wish I had snapped the rose garden arbors. Even covered in bare branches they're beautiful. But to give you the best "view" of the gardens today, I'll simply share with you, from The Huntington's website, a glimpse of each. Enjoy!

Eucalyptus grove in the Australian Garden

The Camellia Garden and statuary of the North Vista

Illustration of the Interactive Children's Garden

The Chinese Garden

The Conservatory

The Desert Garden


The Herb Garden

The Japanese Garden

The Jungle Garden

The Lily Ponds

The Palm Garden

The Rose Garden


The Subtropical Garden

That's it! . . . my day at The Huntington Library, Art Collections and Botanical Gardens. Thanks for reading along and I hope you enjoyed the tour. I thoroughly enjoyed my visit and plan to go back soon. Because the most important thing I learned on this day at The Huntington is this: what a luxury it is to have such a beautiful place so close to home. I realize that I take for granted all of the wonderful places I have nearby to see and experience and learn from. I take for granted that these places will still be there when I get around to going. Do you do the same thing? Put off for another day the beauty and history that's in your own backyard? Tell me about a great place near you that you've put off for later. And, tell me, when will "later" be? I hope for each of us, later comes very soon.

All photos via huntington.org except: first photo, camellia garden and desert garden are mine, conservatory photo via sunset.com

Why Comfort & Luxury?

I have always been interested in how businesses got their names. Now, there's this whole world of blog names to wonder about too. I'm going to tell you about mine. I think it also says something about me and my approach to interior design, decorating and life.

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For close to twenty years, this quote has inspired me :

"We act as though
comfort and luxury were the
chief requirements of life
when all that we need
to make us really happy is
something to be
enthusiastic about."

Charles Kingsley - English clergyman, university professor, historian and novelist

At first, it became a favorite because it represents to me the conscious effort one must make to appreciate and find enjoyment in the everyday undertakings of life. Rather than lament what we feel is missing, we should focus on what we already have, or should seek to find something, to be enthusiastic about. For some it might be caring for their home and family; for others, their job or an all-consuming hobby or cause. Material things that add to our enthusiasm for life can be anything that pleases us—simply because we possess them, regardless of price or pedigree—like a sentimental object kept on view, a collection acquired after years on the hunt, or a perfectly positioned reading chair. And, of course, we all want to be enthusiastic about the people in our lives—our loved ones and friends—without whom all the riches and possessions in the world would be meaningless.

But then, one day, while preparing myself to pursue a career in interior design, it occurred to me that, while Reverend Kingsley warns against the pursuit of “comfort" and "luxury”, they are, in fact, two things for which I happen to have great enthusiasm. This realization brought about a new interpretation of the Kingsley quote; turning it on its head while continuing to embrace its basic message. I believe that we should choose to seek comfort and luxury in our lives, most especially in our homes. I believe home should be the primary place that comforts and sustains us; that an organized, well-designed space is a desirable and attainable luxury that will enhance and energize our daily lives. Before any of us walk out the door in the morning, our homes should prepare us to face the world. At the end of the day, home should call to us, comfort us, and warmly welcome our guests. Of course, we must also appreciate what a luxury it is to have a place of our own in which to find such comfort.

In the homes of clients, just as in my own, I believe that my brand of comfort and luxury can be achieved on a real-world budget. Knowing what good design looks like, where to splurge and where to save, and how to source smartly and creatively can produce great spaces without great expense. The execution of an idea and enthusiasm for the results matter just as much, if not more, than the dollars spent. In fact, some of my best decorating and organizing ideas have been born of restricted cash flow and serendipitous discoveries. Knowing what pleases you most—whether it is bold colors and loads of accessories or a stripped-down, simplified space—is key to finding a look that feels comfortable and luxurious to you. Whatever your goals, whatever your budget, if you are my client, it is my desire to enthusiastically endeavor to bring comfort and luxury to your life.

That then is the "why" behind the name of both my business and my blog. Here on Comfort&Luxury the blog, I'll continue to show the work I do and the work of others I admire. I'll present ideas and inspiration you can apply to your spaces with or without my assistance. If you see anything you have questions about, on a new post or old, feel free to leave a comment or send an email. If you have a project you'd like my help with, read about my services on my sidebar and contact me. At the very least, I hope you'll keep reading. Because I've become pretty enthusiastic about blogging too.

Pictured above are the Reverend Charles Kingsley and American artist Jessie Willcox Smith. As a writer and illustrator, respectively, each successfully pursued their chosen career paths near the turn of the twentieth century. Those paths crossed when their considerable talents came together in a classic of children's literature : "The Water-Babies, A Fairy Tale for a Land Baby". Written by Kingsley and first published in 1863, the 1916 edition illustrated by Smith became wildly popular and a staple of children's nurseries in the decades following. The images I show here are from that book. You can see why Smith's work continues to influence modern-day illustration artists. At the end of her life, she bequeathed twelve of her original Water Babies paintings, generally acknowledged to be the best work of her prolific career, to the Library of Congress' "Cabinet of American Illustration" collection where they remain today.

Luxuries Large and Small

These lovely little luxuries are ring boxes from the Muse Collection by Charlotte Moss at London's Halcyon Days. For your dressing table, vanity or evening bag, they are "descended from the rare and beautiful enamels of 18th-century England. Prized by discerning collectors worldwide, both as tokens of taste and sentiment and as works of art, they are destined to become the antiques of the future."

Says the designer of her collection, which includes atomizers, handbag mirrors and tiny vanity trays, "I have bought these wonderful enamels as gifts, and received them as gifts, for years. It is a great pleasure and opportunity to be entrusted with creating designs for today. Once again I’ve chosen to invoke the muse - images and motifs from the lives of women who continue to inspire - myself and others."

You would be correct in assuming that these pretty little numbers come with price tags containing quite large numbers.

I received as a gift this Christmas my own tiny, shiny box. It is not fancy enamel nor is it covered in pretty patterns. It is plain, coral pink and heart-shaped. It is from the not so exclusive, one on every corner, Hallmark collection. And it is currently my most prized, sentimental and inspiring possession.

It came from my daughter and contains a photo she took of us (with the camera in her laptop) on Thanksgiving Day 2009. That's her, below, squeezing the life and love out of me. And though this box was a gift, it came at a very large price. Letting her go last year to live her own life was more difficult than anything I have done with or for or because of her in the last nineteen years of my life. But it was worth it.

I have proof in a priceless pink box.

"Every luxury must be paid for, and everything is a luxury, starting with being in this world."

Cesare Pavese, Italian poet, critic and novelist, 1908-1950

Thanks to Rosemary and her dentist's fancy magazines for the top image. It is quite a luxury to have a friend who thinks about you while waiting to get her teeth cleaned. Images and descriptions of Moss's Paris, Nantucket and New York boxes are from Halcyon Days' website. And to Katey, well, you know.

Closet Envy

You know things have gotten pretty bad when you envy the closet of an imaginary character. Make that the doll version of an imaginary character. Sharpay of High School Musical fame has a prettier, more well-organized closet than I have had in years. And I'm a bit envious of her ruffly handbag and pink "leather" ottoman too. And, yes, I can see she only has one dress (or is it two?) hanging in her curvy closet/wardrobe—which makes it so much easier to be organized—but that's not my point. My point is that her closet looks like that and mine looks pretty much like this:

Multiply this pic by four or five, and you'll have some idea of the state of the master closet my husband and I share: nearly fourteen linear feet of reach in space with an old-school single rod, single shelf set up. I'm embarrassed to admit how many years it's been this way. Not always so messy and crowded but always so inefficient and uninspiring. And always near the bottom of the home improvements priority list. Until a few days ago. When it fell down. Yes, that's what I said. Fell. Down. Finally succumbing to the weight of too many unnecessary things, the shelf and rod as one unit pulled from the wall and crashed to the floor. Inside the closed closet, the contents were squashed to a 30" high heap. Pushing the doors open against the pressure of all that stuff proved daunting enough. The excavation process was just ridiculous. That was a fun day.

Over the next few days though, we did have some fun and our closet is shaping up nicely into something along the lines of this, above. Towers and double rods and a shelf up high for long-term storage in plastic boxes and bins. Or maybe I should shop around for a vintage suitcase or two. That's pretty cute. It needs a bit of fine-tuning and a few organizer-type accessories, but it's already so much better than it was, I'm actually grateful that gravity forced our hand.

One of the details that drove the design of our new and improved closet system is the fact that we have sliding doors—two sets—on this closet. I'd love to have bi-folds like in the photo above, so I could whip them open and view my entire wardrobe at once, but that's just not practical for our space. I'll show you our fancied-up sliders when this little project is complete.


In a previous home, I hung double swing-out doors on my 6' wide reach-in closet (after installing a very efficient system similar to the one above). Not only was I able to view and access the entire contents at once, but I had the backs of the doors available for goodies like hooks and shoes racks as in the photo below.


And once, in a very tiny apartment, I had a surprisingly decent walk-in closet. Because it was a temporary rental, I didn't think to decorate it with pretty things hung on the wall or throw down a runner, but I did hang a mirror on the back of the door. A classic choice.


For a brief moment after our closet crash, we entertained the idea of breaking through the wall to the newly empty bedroom next door and converting it into a closet/dressing room/bathroom space. (Sorry, K, I know you've been gone only a few months!) That moment passed, however, when the dollar signs started ca-ching-ching-chinging in our heads. If I did have the luxury of an entire room, I imagine my closet might look something like this:

I don't know exactly what's going on with those slide-out baskets, but I sure like the way they—and the glass doors above them—look in this sunny yellow room. And then there's this wallpapered, chandeliered beauty, below. But I don't believe for a moment that the girl who owns this closet has so few items of clothing. Or only three pairs of shoes.

If I was forced to used dark wood, I'd most definitely accessorize with brightly colored storage boxes and use lots of glass and white paint like in the closet below. But I would never buy a yellow hat. Not even as a prop.

My inner control freak really likes the idea of coordinating my wardrobe with my closet system and room decor, but I simply couldn't live with myself if I let things go this far:

What I could live with, given the luxury of space (and dollars) with which to create the closet of my dreams, is something like this:


Click on the pic above to see the entire post Joni wrote about the home wrapped around this perfect, girly dressing room. As you might imagine, it's quite a house.

Those of you who appreciate a sleeker, more contemporary aesthetic, might prefer this look, below. And while I would like to be able to see the entire contents of my closet all at once, I think this is taking things a bit too far. Only the super-freakiest control freaks among us could keep this always-on-view closet in order. Though I suppose my well-trained staff could take care of it. (These are fantasy closets, remember? I can have fantasy staff if I need them.)


And speaking of freaky—or at least outlandishly lavish—check out these closets I found at Exotic Interiors.




Holy cow, right? And did you notice that they all have seating? Do you think that's simply because they have the space and so they can? Or do you think, just maybe, having all that stuff can be a bit overwhelming and that it would be necessary to take a break now and then from the pure sensory overload of it all. Probably though, if you're in a closet this big, it's just too darn far to go back out into the bedroom to find a place to sit down and put your shoes on. So that green velvet dentist's chair is absolutely practical.

Let's get back to reality now, shall we? Since I don't have this many shoes. . .

. . . or a wardrobe the size of Ms. Bradshaw's (I mean, Mrs. Preston's), I don't really require an entire room.

However, I do have sufficient closet space so as not to require doing this to my bathroom (but wait, there's not enough room in my bathroom for my bathroom so I guess this was never going to happen anyway).

What I really need is stuff like this

and this


to make the most of the space I do have. I thought about adding some bag hangers like these, below, but they take up too much prime clothes-hanging real estate. I will add one or two of those shoe stacker thingies though. And my handbags will live quite happily in the cubbies we've installed.

All of this introspective thinking about my closet and its lack of efficiency (crashed to the floor being at the extreme end of impractical), got me wondering about the rest of you...

What are the best and worst things about your own closet?

What would you change today? (given the time and the cash)

What does your dream closet look like? Go ahead, be a diva.

If you find yourself, as I did, "closet challenged", here are a few links to help you out:

Closet Organizing Checklist at Real Simple

31 Ways to Make Over Your Closet at Real Simple

Top 10 Organizing Tips for Closets at BH&G


And if you have a moment to read what two other bloggers have to say about their closets...

Tracey at Notes from a Cottage Industry wrote here about how much she loves her closet... and its contents. But she's moved recently so I hope she'll love her new closet just as much. And show us the crazy-creative things she does to spiff it up. Hand her a paint brush and she could work wonders giving Sharpay's curvy wardrobe the vintage cottage look she loves.

Janet at The Gardeners Cottage showed us her closet here. And while I may not envy its tiny dimensions, I do love her beautiful home and her attitude about living well and within your means and without so much "stuff". She would never in a million years have a green velvet dentist's chair in her closet.