Home Alone

This Saturday, something momentous occurred. The Divine Italian left for a week in Europe and The Little Prince had a 24 hour sleepover, which meant: empty house! Don't get me wrong, of course I pined for them horribly, but I haven't had a night to myself in I can't remember how long.

Darlings, it was heavenly.

Lest you think there was any "Risky Business" sliding around in socks and underwear, let me emphatically assure you there was not. 

But it did get quite wild.

1. I put in my favorite Noel Coward CD and brazenly turned up the volume.

2. I resolutely attacked the dreaded kitchen junk drawer. And won.

3. I willfully threw away a stack of old magazines that I had sworn I would read.

4. I rearranged my scarves.

5. I sauntered from room to room, dithered, vacillated and stared at nothing in particular. 

(I know, I know, you've gone positively weak in the knees, haven't you?)

But the undisputed highlight of the evening was watching "Women in Love", Ken Russell's 1969 adaptation of D. H. Lawrence's 1920 classic novel. I've been waiting to unleash it from its little Netflix envelope for practically ever, but it's not The Divine Italian's oeuvre. (He still hasn't forgiven me for making him sit through "Howard's End.")

Have you seen it? If not, I highly recommend that you do. Not only does Russell visually capture the lush lyricism of Lawrence's prose, the film is gorgeous and sexy and bohemian and a must for anyone who appreciates color and design. 

Some personal highlights follow.

Jennie Linden's outfit reminded me of Sonia Delaunay's paintings in the 1920's, which were noted for their geometric abstractions.

("Electric Prisms", 1914)

Delaunay also designed clothes, a few sketches of which can be seen here.

I've always been fascinated by Sonia. When I pulled up this photo of her on the Internet, I was struck by the realization that her outfit......is almost identical to the one which Glenda Jackson wears in the film's opening.

In terms of production design, the ramshackle cottage that Alan Bates lives in struck me as very John Derian-like (in the best possible way).

Here's Derian's apartment as featured in Elle Decor in March 2006.

(via Habitually Chic)

The reds and blues of the set design also brought to mind John Robshaw's Kalil bedding which I seriously am coveting. I may have to stop by Living Room, one of my favorite local haunts, because they carry his line.

The homespun furnishings also reminded me of a display I saw recently at Dan Marty's showroom.

When this outfit popped up onscreen (the one in the middle, worn by Eleanor Bron), three words popped into my head: Dries. Van. Noten.

Here are three photos from Van Noten's past runway shows (not sure which season.) The feeling is the same, don't you think?  Lots of vibrant prints, colors, unusual fabrics and layering.

Here, his coat exactly picks up the peacocky hue of the cape in the movie.

Another example of Dries' multilayered, non-matching approach. Not for everyone, I know, but definitely for me. 

In this scene, I was floored by the jolt of color coming from Glenda's mango-colored dress when set against the mauve bricks and green gate. I think the colors are so striking together, another example of the brilliant art direction of the movie.

The palette reminded me of Farrow and Ball's "Rosslyn Papers" wallpaper in the following two colorways.

I must say, I finally understood the appeal of Oliver Reed in this movie. It's those naughty eyes. But in this luncheon scene, it was his jacket which held my gaze.

Isn't it the spitting image of this 19th century French chair upholstered in Peter Dunham's velvet Almont Stripe? Available at 1st Dibs.
Last but not least, there was the legendary naked wrestling scene between Oliver and Alan Bates. When they finally collapsed onto the floor, I gasped, not because of the scene's undeniable homoeroticism, but because...
...that rug was almost the spitting image of the one I snapped on Friday from Fort Street Studios! 

Oh, what a movie. Oh, what a night.