The Art of Color, Demystified

Like most of you, my computer is chock-a-block with files of favorite images that I've culled from various websites. I turn to them whenever I need to be creatively galvanized, when I want to be reminded of the design elements I love or when I'm just craving a jolt of style. When it comes to colors, though, it can be a bit tricky to pull a specific shade or hue off the screen and onto a curtain, couch, wall or pillow. 

Until now.

That's because yesterday I stumbled upon www.colorhunter.com. Just upload an image onto their website and they instantly analyze it and break it down into its five most recognizable color components.  

Warning: Extreme caution must be used with this application if you are a design junkie. Addiction may rapidly occur and result in severe sleep loss, hunger, dehydration and cranky spouses.

Here are some color palettes I created when I should have been eating/sleeping/lavishing attention on my family.

1.

("Farm at Watendlath", Dora Carrington, 1921)

2.

(Illustration of Jackie Kennedy in Jaipur by Jacqueline Duheme)

3.

(A tartan-clad, red-tressed Linda Evangelista )

4.

(Ruthie Sommers home, courtesy of the late Domino)

5.

(Morrissey and Edith Sitwell, from here)

Cool, huh? Colorhunter also offers a million color palettes you can search through by hue, category or even by typing in a hex color code (if you're thinking, "A what code?", click here). 

Try it. But clear your schedule first.

My Gastro-Lit Obsession

Do you have this cookbook? If not, you seriously need to get it.

I love it so much that even though I've owned it almost a year, I am reluctant to officially finish it because then I'll never again be able to read it for the first time. So I skip over a page here and there, just so I can leave myself something to look forward to.

"Whatever is she rattling on about? It's a bloody cookbook, for Heaven's sake." 

Yes. 

But. 

In the vein of MFK Fisher, Elizabeth David and Laurie Colwin, Slater's recipes provide the framework to delve into a rhapsodical exploration of food, friends and the art of eating. 

It's culinary literature.

Keep reading. You'll see.

Nigel Slater espouses one grand theme in this book: "Right food, right place, right time." As he puts it, "I do believe that a cold Saturday in January is a good time to make gingerbread. It is when I made it and we had a good time with it. It felt right. So I offer it to you as a suggestion, just as I offer a cheesecake at Easter, a curry for a cold night in April and a pale gooseberry fool for a June afternoon. It is about seasonality, certainly, but also about going with the flow, cooking with the natural rhythm of the earth." 

For a year, he kept a detailed journal of more or less everything he cooked and ate. The photos included were shot at his home in "real time", so if the entry says April 2nd or October 9th, that is when it was shot. 

The art direction in the book is pulse-quickening. Here's the splendidly pink spread detailing all the recipes for the month of May...

Don't they all look so enticing?

April 30

Mint tea and a lemon-frosted pistachio cake

"Friends for tea, and it's the most magical of days, a cool summer afternoon in the garden, all full-blown roses and cucumber sandwiches. Today's cake is not  a light-as-a-feather-sponge but a moist affair, dense with pistachios and ground almonds. I flavor it gently with rosewater but this is not essential."

(Excuse my trilobyte. He assisted me in weighing down the page.)

May 4th

Chickpeas with harissa, basil and ham

"There is the constant patter of rain on the kitchen roof and the gentle rattle and putter of a pan of simmering chickpeas. I don't always cook these hazel-nut sized legumes from scratch...I guess I just wanted to smell them cooking today -- a mealy, nutty smell that must have filled Middle Eastern kitchens from time immemorial."

(May 4th)

July 24

Baked salmon and a black-currant trifle

"Dinner for six. I sometimes feel like a cooking machine. To follow [the meal], we had a trifle so divine I wish I had made two, the last one to eat alone, in my bathrobe at breakfast."

(Nigel's delightful trifle)

September 16

A chunky, inelegant dish of baked lamb

"So much food is so exquisitely contrived that the 'chunky, rustic-looking' dish, inelegant and apparently thrown together,  is something of a rare treat. This is the food I long for whenever I am presented with a fashionable chef's twee plateful of contorted food drizzled with a ring of 'jus.'

(Baked lamb with tomatoes and rosemary)

Next week, when my son's annual school fundraiser is over and my life will be my own again, I will be sitting in my back garden, Campari and soda within reach, this book in my lap. 

If you want to know more about Nigel Slater, he has a gorgeous website. Click HERE. 

24 Hours in Vegas And Not One Minute Longer

I'm not really a Las Vegas person, but a couple of weeks ago Piero told me he had to go there on Mother's Day weekend and why didn't Luca and I join him? We could fly in Saturday afternoon, have dinner together and then Luca and I could go see a show. In the words of my husband, "It'll be fun. We zip in, we zip out, nobody gets hurt." Neither of us gamble, so it was hard to argue with that logic.  

4pm Saturday (T minus 22 hours)

This time, we stayed at the Four Seasons which bears zero resemblance to the Las Vegas I've previously visited. The lobby was hushed and casino-free, the air was verbena-scented and the vegetation was lush and subtropical. And no, I don't want to know what their water bill is.

The first hint of danger came when Luca found this waiting for him in the room. Even the sign was edible.

He turned to us with dilated pupils and said, "Can I have my birthday here?" (Breathe. Relax. Breathe.) In the bathroom, the mini robe, children's toiletries and alphabet sponges which spelled out his name only further convinced him that we'd been grievously holding out on him for seven years. 

7pm Saturday (T minus 18 hours)

That night, when Piero left to go see his show, Luca and I went to see Cirque du Soleil's "Mystere." I swear he didn't blink once the entire performance. 

10pm Saturday (T minus 15 hours)

After we returned to the room, he stood on his little cot and gazed out at the sea of lights, utterly hypnotized. I kept thinking, all those summers in Europe and this is what sticks? Oh, Lordy.

9 am Sunday (T minus 4 hours)

We woke up late-ish and went down to the hotel restaurant to check out their famous Mother's Day buffet. As soon as Piero and I saw the table of children's food, we knew Luca would be a goner. It was a Roald Dahl fantasy on steroids: tower after tower of mini cheeseburgers and Rice Krispies and cones of french fries and cakes and brownies and rainbow-colored Jello. We realized we needed to brace ourselves for the possibility that someday our son might very well be moving to Nevada. 

Here he is, out of his mind with delirium after having ingested a truckload of food. 

My smile is masking my fear.

Noon Sunday (T minus 2 hours)

After brunch, it was nearly time to leave for the aiport.  Of course, Luca was panicked by the thought and kept trying to push Piero down the hall back to the hotel room.

In an inspired moment, Piero remembered the old "I'll time you" routine and raced him to the elevator. Before Luca knew what was happening, we were in a cab on the way to the airport and back to the safety of Hollywood, California.

Deprogramming starts tomorrow.

Powder Room Pastorale

As you all know, I am partial to wallpaper. Sometimes when I'm driving along Beverly Boulevard I find myself uncontrollably veering into a parking space in front of Walnut. Their gorgeous selection of patterns, colors and textures -- from companies such as Cole and Son, Allegra Hicks, Neisha Crosland, and Osborne and Little -- never fail to set my head spinning (and make driving home an especially tricky task).

But I must confess a mad and desperate love for the cheeky designs of Timorous Beasties. I used "Thistle" in my kitchen, so when my friend Claire informed me she had just hung their "London Toile" in her powder room, I grabbed my camera and raced lickety-split up the hairpin turns to her fabulous home in the Hollywood Hills.

I fell to my knees when I saw it. I know that's rather a dramatic gesture, but it felt entirely appropriate at the time.

From a distance, you expect to see twee scenes of peasants frolicking in an Arcadian garden...

but get up close and you are treated to urban idylls...

...and teenage malaise.

Other vignettes in the pattern depict a Sikh meditating on a bench, a chic mum wheeling a massive Silver Cross pram, a City businessman on a cellphone and a group of rebellious skateboarders. 

I love it because it's a triple threat: modern wallpaper that's also art that's also social commentary. (In perhaps their boldest move, there's also a man holding a gun.) It's subversive, it's unsettling and the images linger in your brain long after you've seen them. One critic recently described their work as "William Morris on acid"; another as "Damian Hirst on Ovaltine."

According to Alastair McAuley, (who, along with Paul Simmons, is one of the founder/designers), "[Some of] the imagery in the French toiles from the 18th century is actually quite shocking. They have scenes of workers womanizing, smoking and drinking. What we've done is update the imagery." 

And again from McAuley: "I guess our typical customer would be someone about our age or a little older [both were born in 1967], perhaps imbued with a punk ethos, who wants their home to express something more interesting than IKEA minimalism."

If you're curious to know more about these two fearless gents, click HERE.

I'm Laughing Now, But...

You know how sometimes it's just not your day? Well, today was definitely not mine.

I spilled espresso on my favorite skirt this morning, went to return something at a shop and got my car towed, took a taxi to Godknowswhere and paid an exorbitant price to regain custody of it, dashed back across town to pick up my son after school only to find out that my carpool parent had mistakenly already done so, then took Luca to the supermarket where he promptly wandered away, leading the store manager to issue an alert, only to discover him in the cereal aisle staring dumbstruck at the supersized box of Cocoa Pebbles.

When we finally arrived home at 6pm, I promptly locked all the doors and battened down the hatches to make sure I couldn't possibly get in any more trouble for one day. 

My heart was racing.

But then I looked outside and saw the bougainvillea...

...and the gnome waiting patiently for a swim...

...and Percy the sheep...

...and Twiglet...

...and Fellini...

...and -- I cannot lie -- the Campari...

...and then Luca started practicing his guitar (without me even asking)...

...and I began to relax. I think I needed a day like this one to remind myself to appreciate all the others. Believe me, if I wake up tomorrow and manage to get out of bed in one piece, I will consider it a success already.

(Although as The Divine Italian once said, "You know you're not in your twenties anymore when you can actually hurt yourself sleeping.")

Be careful out there.

Good-Tempered Food, Good-Tempered Friends

This past Saturday night, we invited our friends Hillary and Steve over for a very casual dinner with their kids. 

I always love to do a bit of styling. It doesn't take very long to create something pretty and I think the effect is always worth it.  For this meal, I anchored the tablescape with a chunk of coral and let some clippings of bougainvillea roam freely around it. A few votive candles and some sprigs of greenery from a flowering hedge...and voila.

Piero whipped up some wienerschnitzel for the children and they ate their dinner in the garden while we sipped aperitifs by the pool and caught up on each other's lives.

The Bloomsbury Cooler (serves 8)

In a large pitcher, mix one cup fresh mint leaves and one cucumber, thinly sliced. Add two cups Absolut Ruby Red Grapefruit vodka and two cups fresh-squeezed lemon juice (about 10 lemons). Add simple syrup to taste (I used about 6 oz.) This is your "potion." Serve over ice with equal parts club soda. It's sweetly tart and totally refreshing.

For our starter course, The Divine Italian made six pounds of meules meunieres. In a testament to their deliciousness, the shells mounted up at an alarming rate.

Dinner was grilled monkfish drizzled with gremolata, along with pan-sauteed fava beans on a bed of wild arugula, mache and pea sprouts. That's my husband on the right, looking deservedly proud of himself. (Piero, you rock.)

For dessert, I served Nigella Lawson's almond cake (from "How to Be A Domestic Goddess".) It was ridiculously easy to make. You toss all the ingredients into a Cuisinart (including an entire tube of marzipan -- mmm!) and pour the batter into a springform pan. 

We ate it with sweetened creme fraiche and blackberries.

After their movie ("Five Children and It"), the rascals came downstairs for a piece of See's chocolate. The decision-making process was arduous.

It was a lovely night. Hillary is leaving for Tibet next week on a ten day expedition with her father. She is my most intrepid friend, having recently hiked Mount Kilimanjaro on her own; in addition, she's planning an upcoming trip to Antarctica. Adventure obviously runs in her genes. Her father is a career diplomat and former ambassador to England. The two of them are going to explore the frontiers of Lhasa and beyond. I'm so excited for her. Take lots of pictures, Hillary!

Even after everyone had left and we finished tidying up, it felt as though some of the night's joie de vivre still lingered in the air.  

I firmly believe that a house is like a cast-iron frying pan -- in order to achieve its full potential, it needs to be seasoned. Just as a much-used pan has traces of all the meals that have been cooked inside it, so a house retains a sense memory of every moment experienced within its walls. By providing your home with a bounty of good times, you season its soul...and yours as well.

I Can't Sleep Until I...

...send a big thank you to Style Court for her recent interview with me on gift-giving. I'm honored, Courtney!

There are a couple of blogs that got me started on my journey in cybersphere and Style Court was one of them. I find it beyond inspirational and I'm sure I'm not the first one to wish that she would write her own book! (Soon. Fast. Prontissimo.) Check out her list of "Top Posts" in the sidebar -- but make sure you don't have anywhere to be for a while. "Collecting", "Decorating Back Stories", "Hidden Meaning" and "Personal Warmth" are posts I go back to again and again.

Have a chic weekend, darlings!

An Evening To Inspire

Last night I was invited to Peter Dunham's garden party in Almont Yard, the chic alfresco courtyard fronting his showroom, Hollywood at Home. I consider it one of LA's most enchanting spaces -- a secret, tucked-away oasis on one of the most charming streets in West Hollywood.

I'm not alone in feeling this way. There were the stirrings of a movement afoot to start meeting there every Friday afternoon for an impromptu happy hour. (Joel, Seth and Shannon -- you've been warned.)

The occasion was a book signing for the launch of "Rooms to Inspire in the Country" by designer Annie Kelly, with photographs by Tim Street-Porter. 

I've been avidly following their work for years through "The World Of Interiors", to which they are both frequent contributors. 

It's almost impossible to put into words how beautiful and inspiring their new book is. I can't decide whether to gobble it in a single sitting or savor it slowly. It's a dilemma, but a wonderful one.

Here are two sneak peeks of the contents, courtesy of that excellent blogger Mrs. Blandings.

I was especially excited to meet Annie because I owe one of my favorite styling tips to her. I once saw a photo spread of their amazing Hollywood home in which she had hung ivy from her chandelier. It was unexpected, it was faintly exotic and I was completely smitten by its simple brilliance. I've been dripping my own vines at every dinner party since.

(My Annie Kelly homage at our previous home, 2007)

One of the highlights of the evening was meeting both of them. You could have knocked me over with a feather when Annie told me that she not only knew about my blog, she had it bookmarked on her computer! 

In addition to her work as a designer and author, Annie also reviews design books for 1st Dibs in a section called "Required Reading." (Be forewarned: you'll want to buy everything.)

(Tim Street-Porter and Annie Kelly)

Before leaving, I browsed through the Hollywood at Home showroom and was again overcome by Peter's dazzling way of combining pattern, texture and color. There is a distinctive shade of green that crops up again and again in his work. It appears in his fabrics (check out"Almont Stripe" and "Fig Leaf"), his furniture and his business cards and looks something like this:

For me, it's become his signature color and I think of it as "Peter Dunham Green." I'm waiting for him to bottle it.