London: Part Two

Up betimes. Dressed fast and went down to breakfast because I wanted to snap a few photos of the lovely side room off the hotel restaurant. My God, is it ever laid-back, comfortable and sexy. Low seating, ancient floorboards, soft velvet upholstery -- I swear your voice involuntarily becomes lower and throatier.

(Dean Street Townhouse restaurant. All photos by Lisa Borgnes Giramonti.)

I'm obviously not the only one who loves this place. Within 30 minutes, the place was packed. Phrases like "Did you see Damian last night?", "They're shooting in Scotland..."and "It's up for the Booker" wafted through the air.

(That's my husband behind the newspaper, trying very hard to act like he's never seen me before.)

High on Earl Grey tea, I suggested we take a winding stroll through Soho and Bloomsbury with the intention of eventually ending up at the British Museum.

We played my fool-proof "How To Turn Your Child Onto Museums, Guaranteed" game (read about it HERE) and spent a lovely hour and a half wandering from gallery to gallery as Luca hunted for his artworks.

I found a beautiful fragment of Roman-era needlework with exactly the same color palette as the Dean Street Townhouse restaurant (see top photos). Classic threads of continuity, 2000 years apart -- how cool is that?

And check out this Roman capelet made of gold. Isn't it so Alexander McQueen? (Still can't get over the loss.) I'd love a version in woven leather.

After that, it was a quick walk over to The Society Club, one of my favorite new spots in London.

Part independent bookstore, part art space and part 21st century salon, it's run by literary agent Carrie Kania and interior designer Babette Kulik. (Read more about it HERE and HERE.)

Inside, they sell everything from super-affordable Coronation ware to vintage books to limited edition punk rock photographs to homemade jams to organic dog food.

Hanging out is encouraged. A communal table runs the length of the room, perfect for chatting with like-minded neighbors or nibbling on cake, crumpets and cookies while you browse.

On the left, one of the shop's three mascots. On the right, one of the über-cute staff -- don't you love his WWI medal (inherited from a relative) and the way he's tucked his Tube ticket into his hat band? And look, he's blushing.

Check their website for upcoming events.

Then it was Luca's choice of activity and off we sped to the Buckingham Palace Mews. Yes, this is the Queen's golden carriage. It doesn't fit through the doors, so they have to take down the wall whenever she wants to use it.

While the menfolk marvelled over four-wheeled vehicles...

...I found it hard to get past the glossy glamour of the stable doors. Who says dark peacock blue can't be The New Neutral?

You know you're in a civilized country when you find yourself picking up design tips from the horses. (Wouldn't those tiles make for a great kitchen backsplash? Add dark blue shelving, some antique brass fittings, a pale cream wall color and...done.)

For dinner, Piero surprised me by taking me to a restaurant he spotted on a walk the day before. "I found a place I think you'll like, " he told me.

(Andrew Edmunds Restaurant. Info HERE.)

He was right. Situated in a 17th century townhouse, the tiny space had a charming Hogarthian vibe and -- as we later discovered -- is considered one of London's top 10 romantic restaurants. (I'm going to quickly fast-forward over the fact that my son -- see him, slumped in the chair? -- fell into a black hole once he saw the eclectic menu.)

Piero ordered grilled octopus and I had cauliflower fritters. (And the waitstaff very kindly whipped Luca up a delicious plate of pasta.) Note to oenophiles: the wine list is extensive, global and reasonably-priced -- my husband was one happy camper.

Note: Reservations are strongly encouraged.

(Food & Wine review HERE.)

Over the next few days, there were more museums, more restaurants and many, many strolls and perambulations through the streets. A few highlights below:

1. Cecil Court, a tiny little Victorian thoroughfare filled with high-end print shops, antiquarian bookstores, maps and other interesting antiques.

2. Liberty, as always. This Emma Bridgewater mug in honor of the Queen's Golden Jubilee is pretty great.

(Available HERE.)

And I fell in love with this range of Montezuma chocolate they were selling on the ground floor.

(Available in the U.S. HERE.)

And I told Piero and Luca that I didn't buy one.

But I did.

And I hid it in my suitcase and then in my desk drawer and ate it all by myself and haven't told anyone until right this minute (sorry, Piero).

(Highly recommended. Available HERE.)

3. Berry Brothers & Rudd. The oldest wine and spirit merchant in London, dating from 1698.

They have a few wines and spirits for sale on the premises (their No. 3 London Dry Gin I like even better than Hendricks), but mostly it's the kind of place where you make a yearly appointment with one of the wine staff to talk about how many cases you'll need to restock all of your estates.

Even though I was merely there to browse, the staff couldn't have been kinder. This lovely young woman led me over to a stack of ledgers and told me that before personal scales were commonplace, the only way their regular customers could find out what they weighed was to hop on the ones here.

She showed me the massive scale used to weigh wine, spirits, coffee, and London's upper class, along with an actual 19th century ledger -- look closely and you can make out the fluctuating girth of one Mr. P. A. Vans Agnew Esquire.

4. Primrose Hill. Just north of Regents Park, this charming and picturesque little neighborhood has always been a favorite of mine.

One afternoon we walked along the canal as the light was fading...

...and stopped at a lovely little pub called The Albert for dinner.

The libations were tasty, the food a gastronome's dream and the clientele charismatic.

Up Next: London, Part Three: The Country Walk

London: Part One

We were there for eight days, but it went by in a blur, as great vacations are wont to do.

(Photos by Lisa Borgnes Giramonti)

After landing at Heathrow, we jumped into a taxicab and headed into the heart of the city.

Hotel-wise, we had decided to switch things up. Usually, we stay at The Gore, but this time we opted for the Dean Street Townhouse, part of the Soho House group of hotels. It's small, just 39 rooms, and occupies two Georgian townhouses built in the 18th century. Design-wise, I call it "Modern Hogarthian."

We loved it.

It was so thoughtfully designed with such a keen attention to detail (the massive bed with impeccably crisp white sheets, the braided rush matting, the vintage silver DIY tea service with fresh-baked daily treats, the artfully hidden electric tea kettle inside the cabinet, a complete range of full-size Cowshed products in the bathroom) that the size of the room didn't matter (we stayed in Number 13, one of the biggest "small" rooms).

I even loved the hallways: isn't this combination of gray-green paint and rust and orange striped carpet so lively and fun?

And oh, the lobby. Nick Jones certainly knows how to create a sexy elegant space. (The gentleman on the left is Damian, the uber-concierge who made our stay so memorable.)

Here's an element-by-element breakdown to create this look:

1. Ancient floorboards

2. Salmon-colored walls

3. Turquoise velvet fringed furniture (super low and super comfortable)

4. Vintage Persian carpet

5. Antique hammered brass front desk

6. Dark floor-to-ceiling bookshelves

7. Golden wall lighting

8. Old gilt mirrors

9. Dark rattan fishing baskets

10. Glass beaded chandelier

If you're a regular to this blog, you know I love looking at the world through a dark frame, so this glassed vestibule of the hotel was a wonderful sexy way to greet each day.

The big news story in London the week we were there was the sunny warm weather. I've never seen the streets so crowded with happy people. It was almost like everyone in the city had decided to live outside. The air was thick with exhilaration.

And the flowers. Everywhere. And the flower sellers. This lovely fellow was so "Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels" I couldn't not ask him for a photo.

Walking through Hyde Park, the world became a 3-D stripe of green, white and blue.

London is filled with countless vistas that make it easy to forget that the 21st century has arrived.

English wit abounded. Would you have guessed this was an art gallery?

This museum headline must have been written to appeal specifically to 10 year old boys because Luca wanted to visit straightaway.

And this sign kills me. Only in the land of Charles Dickens would you find a posh Mayfair dental practice with a sign that gives you the impression they pull teeth with 100-proof anaesthetic.

Want an easy way to reinvigorate your front door? Stud it with brass knobs. I can think of a house in Hollywood that might have them very soon.

This owner painted over the studs for a look that's still visually textured but slightly more subtle.

That night, we had a quick dinner at Antonio Carluccio's in Spitalfields, a historic neighborhood in London's East End. (For a fascinating blog about Spitalfields, click HERE.)

Our meal was quick because we had a very very important 7:15 pm appointment around the corner at a private home I've been dying to visit ever since one of you fabulous people mentioned it on this blog four years ago.

We were going to Dennis Severs' House, a living time capsule of ancient London. (Read my previous post about it HERE.) The guide met us outside to give us the rules for our solo candlelit journey.

Guide: No photos. No talking. Only in silence will you be able to properly hear, see and smell what life was like centuries ago.

Luca: Is the house haunted?

Guide: (lengthy pause) Some people would say yes.

I swear to God at this very moment (when I snapped a photo of the front door) my camera started acting strangely. Everything went blurry.

I checked my settings to see if they had changed, but no. I snapped a photo of the pub across the street. Another myopic mess.

We went into the house.

And the next 45 minutes were some of the most magical of my life so far.

I won't give too much away because part of the thrill is discovering the rooms for yourself, but there is no question that the house is alive. As our guide told us, "In this house, you can walk through the painting."

What I will tell you is that I have officially travelled back in time -- and I can't wait to go back.

Walking to the tube station, my camera captured a double decker bus full of ghostly riders.

Even back at the hotel, I couldn't take a clear photo of the ground floor restaurant. (That's Luca perusing the menu.) I ordered fish pie. After three months of eating super healthy, it was high time. And it was creamy and rich and sinfully delicious.

It wasn't until I had a glass of champagne that the world was restored to rights again. That's Flo and Tom down there in the corner, the most darling staff ever. (Aren't Flo's eyebrows amazing?)

That night I couldn't sleep I was so excited. (The jet lag didn't help.)

x/Lisa

P. S. Settle something for Piero and me. What does this hardware store sign say? (I say "Posh London", Piero says "Gosh London.")

London Teaser

There was a golden carriage.

(Photos by Lisa Borgnes Giramonti.)

And a dinner with Winston.

And an enchanting shop deep in the heart of Soho.

And a teen-aged dandy with a sartorial spin on the past.

And the heart-stopping charms of the English countryside.

And country houses that had me rubbing my eyes in disbelief.

And literary references everywhere.

And lots and lots of tea. All day. All the time. For absolutely no reason.

And maybe a teensy bit of champagne.

And new friends who I miss already.

And much, much more.

Part One -- in glorious color -- on Monday.

x/Lisa

En Route

(Photo by Lisa Borgnes Giramonti)

Flying home today from London.

Stay tuned for new posts (need to sleep a little first).

x/Lisa