Posts Tagged ‘Jonathan Adler’
Preppy little tabletop items depicting jungle animals fill me with delight. I can not tell you why.
And I’m not going to lie; I love all the gold.
DL & Co make the candles I am most likely to select on aesthetic grounds alone, and this one—called Essence of Florets, which I’m sure also smells quite lovely, for those of you who prioritize such things—is a perfect object lesson in why.
The animal drawings on these coasters are so moody and wonderful.
I dig midcentury sculptor/ceramicist Waylande Gregory’s plates, even though they are on the fussy Palm Beach side of things, because they’re also rather witty. This fearsome tiger is a delight.
Serpent imagery always gets me going: it’s so seductive and elegant, and just a touch rock and roll, but also really feminine too, and it works as well on jewelry as it does on other, non-fashiony items. This stunning blank notebook from DL & Co has a spray of glitter on the front, lending it the kind of glamour one doesn’t typically associate with blank notebooks.
I love how long and languid the snake looks here, and how you have to look twice to realize it’s a snake at all.
This sweet little pillow just charms me to death.
This is a whole lot of drama in a ring—it (literally) snakes down your finger and up your hand—but it’s got the power to transform even the most basic black sweater and jeans into a full-on compelling outfit.
One of my prized possessions is a first edition copy of Play it as it Lays: crazy brilliant book, knockout graphic cover.
If you’re going to wear a pair of lips around your neck, it’s best to err on the side of the diminutive. And this necklace—with its appealing spray of diamonds—is appropriately wee.
What I find so appealing about this pitcher is how the lips just totally look like they belong there.
Zebras are perhaps the most funkadelic creatures of the animal kingdom, what with those nature-made trippy-ass stripes, which lend themselves perfectly to all manner of creative interpretation. First up: this bright and brilliant tote, which is thoroughly off its rocker, but in a way that would put you in a good mood every time you looked at it.
For those who object to the notion of a zebra hide rug for moral reasons—or simply don’t want to pony up the cash—a perfectly charming eyeglass case in the black, white and red palette that I am forever a sucker for.
If this pillow had any more personality, it would talk.
A photographer is coming to my house at noon today to shoot me in my office here, and my fondest desire this weekend was to make it look even just passably cool. But in the end, you are either a girl who knows how to arrange things all nice, or you are a girl who lets things fall where they may, and I, alas, have always been the latter. Plus, experience has taught me to be cautious of the overly staged: when I was first married, I moved into a beautiful old brownstone in Brooklyn and hired a noted design bon vivant to decorate it. He did a great job, and I felt so fortunate to live in rooms that were so beautifully composed. It was all completely my taste, but nothing I could ever had conjured myself, and it felt like such a cool trick that you could actually pay somebody to do that for you. Less cool, unfortunately, was actual life in the Brooklyn house: there was great hardship and unhappiness, and the marriage unraveled and we got divorced. The house was sold and I moved back to Manhattan. A few years later, I was paging through the bon vivant’s first coffee table book—he’d sent me a copy upon publication—when I happened upon a couple of pictures of my old place. I didn’t recognize those pictures as my home for a moment, and when it did register, something else hit me like a jolt. I realized that a spell had been lifted: never again would I envy the lives of people whose homes I saw in books or magazines, no matter how perfect they may appeared. Because mine looked pretty perfect in those pages too.
So considered from that angle, maybe it’s better just to let people see me for the moderately organized, not entirely un-stylish woman—home-wise—that I am, right? Anyone?And it’s not like I didn’t make some tweaks.My friend Stephen came over Saturday night and pointed out—not incorrectly—that my mugs are hideous, and that since desks look nice and lived-in with a coffee mug on them, I might do well to make an improvement. So I popped out to the Jonathan Adler on Greenwich Avenue for this little orange zebra number.
I also got this fun little glass at Adler to use as a pen cup. Much poppier than the old bamboo cup with pen explosion lining its bottom that I’ve been making do with for ages. The orange-on-orange wasn’t intentional, and at first it had me a bit concerned because I don’t like matchy, but there are enough (read: too many) other colors and textures happening on that desk for them to overpower much of anything.
Then! Because I’ve been waiting for a good excuse to do it anyway, I finally got myself a Jambox speaker. It’s wireless! The cool kids are probably on to some other, way cooler and better speaker by now, but that’s just going to be perfectly OK by me.
What I didn’t buy—and it’s not high on my upgrade list, but perhaps should be—is exactly the desk that Jenna Lyons has in the above picture. (Or at least I’m pretty sure it’s the same one—experts?) I’m a big believer in the big, open table as desk—once something’s in a drawer, I forget it exists. And my current desk is my former Heywood Wakefield dining room table, and it’s so rickety and ancient that if I put my printer on it, the whole thing shakes like a train’s coming through town.