Mollymook via Cornwall

I'm so excited! Tonight we're going to dinner at Rick Stein's restaurant. No, not in Padstow, Cornwall, but a newly-opened one in Mollymook, on the south coast of NSW, at Bannisters Point resort. Here is the Seafood Restaurant in Padstow, or 'Padstein' as it's come to be called:


What a beautiful part of the world:


Although Mollymook doesn't look too bad either:




I'll let you know how it goes.

Images courtesy of the restaurants' websites.

Spring cleaning

With summer just around the corner, we've been sprucing things up. There's not much to do on the boatshed, so we've shifted our focus to a nearby house. For the past four years this lounge on the veranda has had its original 60s olive and orange cushions covered by makeshift white covers. It was time for a makeover, so I got my friendly upholsterer to recover the cushions in an oatmeal fabric:

The sandy tone gives it a subtle beachy feel and goes well with white:

We replanted the garden at the front of the veranda with some traditional plants like azaleas which I think are nonetheless compatible with the natives and the Aussie icon, the water tank:

Here is the bigger picture:

I can't wait till they grow and the flowers come out:

Thanks to our gardener friend Tass for selecting just the right plants for the space

Office Chic

I'm very interested in old office furniture, but it's something you never really find in op shops, and the trendy retro stores charge a fortune. I found this in a local second-hand store recently. The slots fit A4 folders perfectly and I can't wait to use this in my office (when it's built of course). I'll feel like I'm working in an old-fashioned post office:

Being a bibliophile and sometime librarian, I've always wanted some filing drawers. I found this little set of two and I love that one of the drawers has an old label on it:

I have no idea what a 'Stud Prefix' is, but it sounds pretty cool so I'm leaving the label attached:

Now to find a reasonably-priced library ladder and apothecary cabinet. Somehow I don't think that will be as easy.

Canister Collection

I couldn't resist the beautiful buttercup yellow and dove grey combination of these canisters I found at the op shop last week. The main reason they caught my eye is that they perfectly complement the 40s laminex on the benchtop:

It's like having my own little baboushka dolls fitting snugly inside each other. I even love the fact that 'Rice' is missing, as are the 'r' and the loop of the 'g' in sugar. These are signs that they've been well-loved and used by their previous owner:

They say that if you've got three or more of something you have a collection. I've got four sets of canisters now. The ones on the left are in the most beautiful colours - aubergine, rust, olive and eau-de-nil. The ones on the right are in classic 70s ochre and orange:

This white sugar canister has three others inside it. The lettering is fading, which is part of the attraction:

All I need now are some more shelves for my growing 'collection'.

Sibella Court

Yesterday I went to the launch of Sibella Court's interiors book etcetera etc. at her shop The Society Inc in Paddington, Sydney. If you haven't heard of her you can read an interview with her here. The book is gorgeous with literally a handmade feel, and I got a cool cloth bag and bookmark with it.

The aspects I admire most about her style are her attention to detail and the way she uses things which could be described as 'ordinary', like string, stamps, feathers or paper to make beautiful still life arrangements. The objects in her shop and styling shoots have a pre-loved feel and the patina of age. Her style reminds me a lot of Ann Shore, whose London shop Story I attempted to visit in London last year. She writes very eloquently on her aesthetic and where it comes from. I'd just like to share an excerpt from her book:

'[T]he patina of age gives so many things - fabric, furniture and paper, tableware and ceramics, wood and metal - unique textural and colour markings. Look at the way a silver tea set tarnishes or the linen on a hardback book fades in the sun. Feel the crumbling paint on a second-hand chair or the smooth handle on an old hammer. These imperfections are hard to mass-produce and the marks of age tell a story of a life lived'.

The book itself is an objet d'art, like her shop and her magazine shoots. To me Sibella epitomises an aesthetic which is not a 'cookie-cutter' style nor can it be found fully-formed in design magazines, but is original, heartfelt and the result of much thought. I also see it as ethical as it respects other cultures, traditions and creatures, valuing what would often otherwise be overlooked.

Images of Sibella's book are courtesy of The Design Files post.

Lucky Find

I've been so busy working lately that I haven't been to an Op Shop for about three months. Prior to that I'd had a couple of months without finding anything and was a bit disheartened. So imagine my delight when I called in earlier this week and found this cute little table for the princely sum of $15:

When I arrived home I was asked where I was planning to put it (I seem to have a plethora of similar tables already) and I replied that that was not the point. I've learnt that a found object always finds a home if you love it.

More Rough Stuff

I'm sorry but I can't keep away from this topic. I stumbled across this site and found this amazing eye candy, such as Cy Twombly's apartment ( it explains his paintings so well):


Axel Vervoordt (I love this guy):

And Francois Halard always makes me happy:

Hopefully these images explain why I have not been able to buy an Australian design magazine all year because of what I term largely manufactured, characterless dwellings which require money but little imagination and have no sense of history. There, I've said it.

Images courtesy of this site.

Boatshed Alert

I just went to the newsagent and found a copy of the 2010 Country Style Diary:


And you'll never guess what was in the December section: Our boatshed, from a story that came out in the December 2008 issue of Australian Country Style, back when I was in the midst of my year-long blogging hiatus:


Very 'Christmassy' and yet somehow 'Australian' at the same time:



When I'm not so snowed under with work, I'll post some images from the magazine story itself.

Images courtesy of Australian Country Style

Tres Chic

Recently, I found myself curious about the new Rachel Ashwell book, 'Shabby Chic Interiors: My Rooms, Treasures, and Trinkets'. Curious to the point of buying a copy! This bedroom draws me back time and time again when I need to contemplate a 'quiet place':


I know it's not everyone's cup of tea but the paleness and those creased curtains speak to me:


I like the robust rusticity of this unit:


And even though I can't afford one, chandeliers capture my attention every time:


I love this green:


This dining room is not too shabby:


And I wouldn't say no to this bathroom:


I can't explain the pull that these pale washed-out linens and chipped painted surfaces have for me except to say that about ten years ago when I was going through a rough patch, I used to go to a bookshop and surreptitiously peruse a copy of the original 'Shabby Chic'. Before I could afford to buy it, when I needed to go to a happy place I'd hide in the corner and drink in the images and immediately feel better. Fortunately, my life took a turn for the better but the images I used to return to time and time again to have been etched into my memory.

Images courtey of "Shabby Chic Interiors: My Rooms, Treasures and Trinkets' by Rachel Ashwell

It's Not Pretty

Following on from yesterday's post about the Rough Luxe 'movement', I feel I need to clarify a few things. Firstly, I'm not advocating Rough Luxe as such, mainly because of the hefty pricetag that accompanies it. In other words, the 'luxe' side interests me less than the 'rough' aspect. What I am in favour of is the aesthetic which underpins it.

While on holiday two months ago, I first heard the term and began writing my own list of what represents to me, for want of a better term, 'rough elegance'. This is what I came up with:

• The patina of an old still life in a junk shop
• Peeling garden furniture
• Beds dragged outside onto a lawn
• A kitchen cupboard with a curtain instead of a door
• A library with foxed books and a ladder
• Chipped, mismatched china (not necessarily with roses on it - mid-century is good too)
• Peeling wallpaper that looks like a palimpsest
• Marble and stone
• Bone-handled knives
• Crazed mirrors
• Patched cushions and quilts
• Old used postcards with someone's story on the back
• Bloomsbury bohemia - hand-painted fireplace surrounds, a bath in a bedroom
• Mismatched bedding
• Chinese paper lanterns instead of chandeliers
• Plank bookshelves
• A chianti bottle with a candle

Photograph by Francois Halard

My version of 'rough' does not cost a lot of money. Its 'richness' is in the experience, as in the care taken, the hand-made quality. It's about travelling around the Mediterranean - in a freighter. It's visiting Tiffany's - but, like Holly Golightly, having my own version of the experience, even if I buy nothing. It's the cheap pensione in Florence in 'Room with a View' rather than the grand English country house.

Photograph by Nicky Kehoe

It's not about trying to re-create a 'romantic' look with cabbage roses. For me it's not about chintz or lace. I think other periods like the 40s, 50s and 60s can also evoke a faded elegance that is not restricted to the Victorian era.

Photograph by Bill Jacobson

Sometimes I think that hoteliers, shopkeepers and designers see imperfection and faded glory as a way to charge customers more for the experience. The aesthetic I'm advocating is one that 'tells a story', but not one you have to pay an exhorbitant amount to access.

I realise that the rooms in these photographs are very expensive. Agas and copper baths don't come cheap. But I believe it's possible to access this aesthetic without the feeling of exclusivity or the price-tag.

Photographs courtesy of the Wall Street Journal and Design Milk.

Elegantly Rough

Over the past month, two articles have interested me greatly. The first was published in the Wall Strret Journal on September 9 and it defines the so-called 'rough luxe' movement as 'a study in Contradictions, an attempt to reconcile the antique or the just plain old with the contemporary, the accumulated with the newly acquired, the decrepit with the pristine. It’s artful dissonance'.

It cites several examples and practitioners of this new movement, one being 'Bill Sofield, best known in the ’90s for his sleek overhaul of the Gucci boutiques' who gives an example of rough luxe as follows: 'In one room, in a wealthy artist’s house, a quilt-covered daybed is nestled in a corner, where a wall, covered in pristine ivy-patterned wallpaper, meets another, its paint job splotched and faded'. Other fans are 'François Halard, a photographer specializing in interiors, whose own homes in America and France qualify as prime examples of rough luxe', and 'Murray Moss, co-founder of Manhattan’s store Moss—itself a showcase of high-priced, cutting-edge design items in an interior stripped to its original materials and structure'. Both designers are are quoted as using the term '“autobiographical” to describe the kind of home they admire—“a reflection of the soul,” Halard says, “not what the owner can afford.”'

The article goes on to cite several past examples of rough luxe, such as: 'the apartment where Cy Twombly and his wife live in Rome, first photographed for Vogue in 1966; Maxwell’s Plum, the New York restaurant outfitted with the trappings of defunct saloons; ’70s exposed brick; the colonization of Soho and Tribeca, with manufacturing spaces mildly renovated for residential use; white wallpaper introduced by Gijs Bakker in the early ’90s, with holes in the panels to allow what’s underneath to show through'.

Further, 'A new wave of young people in their twenties is championing rough luxe as a rejection of the minimalism that dominated the world they grew up in—a style that began as industrial and makeshift and gradually progressed to extravagant and precious, with multiple coats of polish on a cement floor and living rooms indistinguishable from hotel lobbies. Rough luxe sounds the death knell for that perfectionism. If rough luxe has a mantra, it’s “authenticity.”' Caroline Till, the design trends editor at London’s The Future Laboratory, says the brand strategy firm was tracking a trend among designers that by spring was spreading into the broader marketplace. Their April 2009 trend report, called “Inspire: Rough Luxe,” stated, it “celebrates a heavy rawness erring on the artisanal.” Till doesn’t believe the timing is coincidental: “Because of the downturn, consumers are taking a bit longer to think about a purchase,” she says. “And they want to buy into a story.” An example of the movement personified is the Rough Luxe Hotel in London.

The article concludes: 'Rough luxe may not have been occasioned by the current economic recession—the movement was on a roll before November 2008CHK—but it does seem to resonate with it. “I think especially now, when we don’t have a sense that we control our fates entirely, maybe there’s something a little bit easier about the idea that every single surface of your environment isn’t polished,” Sofield says. “There’s a friendliness to it, maybe an egolessness—just letting certain things be".'

The other article was posted on design-milk.com on the 24th September and states that 'Many may refer to this stuff as "junk", but the beauty lies within the details, craftmanship, and history of these amazing pieces'. Is it the new 'shabby chic?' or something altogether different? Whatever the case, it seems as if rough luxe may be here to stay for a while. Which is good, because to me it represents elegance, comfort and thrift in a world where these qualities are becoming increasingly rare.

Our Greek Weekend

We've just returned home from a weeekend in Nelson Bay, where you could easily feel that you've magically been transported to the other side of the world to a Greek island. We stayed in the centre of town at the fantastic Oaks Lure. If you're so inclined you can cook up a storm in the spacious modern kitchen:

We were too busy being out and about to use it very much. We climbed Tomaree and looked down on what could be mistaken for an Aegean harbour:

We also did some boating:

And of course, eating. We ate oysters and calamari down by the marina:

We were also lucky enough to be invited by our Greek friends to a beautiful feast at their home. The food was fantastic, with lamb, steaks, rice, salads and garlic bread:

And no Greek party is complete without dancing:

Thank you Tass, Bob, Katherine and Chris for sharing your Greek paradise with us!

Street Furniture and More Amy Butler

When we were renovating a city apartment, we decided to adopt a policy of 'rough chic' which fitted in with our meagre budget. While walking around the local streets we managed to find a few items on the footpath which came in very handy after we painted them, such as this side table:

This shelf looked very rough in its natural state, but is quite sturdy and holds a lot:

This cabinet was originally an unattractive shade of bottle green:

With the addition of some home-made cushion covers in Amy Butler fabric, the apartment looks quite bright and modern:

Amy Meets Laura

I'm still in cushion mode and these are my most recent efforts. They are not for the boatshed but for an 1890s house. Because the house is Victorian, I decided to use up a Laura Ashley remnant for the side cushions. However, to bring the look into the twenty-first century, I trimmed them with Amy Butler remnants. Amy's William Morris-esque designs went perfectly with Laura's sprigs and hopefully offset any potential tweeness:

In the dining room, I used some Amy Butler fabric from the Midwest Modern II collection to brighten up this 80s chair:

The chair on the right (below) also has a cushion out of this fabric. You can see from this little grouping that I don't mind mixing my eras. The T. H. Brown dining chair on the left is very mid-century, but hopefully still looks OK with the earlier chair and dresser:

Here's a cushion closeup:

All the furniture in the bottom three images was found in op shops.

I Don't Really Mind That I Don't Have a Gourmet Kitchen

This post was prompted by my recent wanderings through Blushing Hostess's blog, with its elegance and grace and lovely china. It has made me realise that I will never achieve that standard of culinary excellence. The boatshed kitchen contains cabinetry that is either home-made or 50 years old. The stove is second-hand and has also reached its half-century. The fridge is about ten years old and fairly compact:

I don't mind a bit of old-world charm. The stove still gets the job done. And I like the bench-tops that Warren made, and the coffee machine and knife block:

And best of all, when I'm standing in the kitchen, this is what I look out at:

So wherever you're cooking, bon appetit:

I Am So Not a Food Stylist Either

Even though my kitchen facilities are a little limited, I don't let it stop me cooking almost every day. While we were on our Queensland trip, we ate a few too many cooked breakfasts and drank a little too much sauvignon blanc. Since we got back three weeks ago I've been trying to be healthier. Luckily our great friends in England, Frank and Ro, gave us this fantastic book for Christmas. Thanks, guys:

Over the past week, I've been cooking up several dishes that are so delicious you don't realise you're being healthy. The first one I tried was Moroccan Lamb with Coriander Quinoa. I didn't have any quinoa so I used couscous. It contains digestive tonics like turmeric, ginger and apricots, and fresh coriander and parsley:

My Le Creuset casserole dish - one of my few culinary investments:

It is here that it becomes obvious that I'm not a food stylist. But who cares about presentation when it's just the two of us and the food's so good:

The next day I tried the Carrot and Sweet Potato soup which has lots of antioxidants:

This dip is particularly scrumptious - Healthy Heart Houmous, which adds sun-dried tomatoes and char-grilled capsicums to the usual chickpea mix:

The Three-Seed Muesli made such a huge amount it will last for many breakfasts. It has sunflower, sesame and hazelnut seeds and tastes delicious with vanilla yoghurt and banana:

It just goes to show you don't need a gourmet kitchen to turn out delicious, healthy food. But maybe I could work on my presentation a little.

More Souvenirs

After my previous post, I realised that I had, in fact bought more things while I was away than I had thought. I love these travel memoirs by Eric Newby - his dry style is very entertaining and the sheer breadth of his travels from climbing Mount Olympus to visiting Troy or a burial chamber in a pyramid makes me want to pack up and go right now:

This is a cute little sheer cotton voile cami from Lazybones Emporium at Bangalow http://www.lazybones.com.au

And this is one of their dress/nighties:

Nothing like a souvenir that you can wear or read.

Holiday Souvenirs

On my recent Queensland holiday, I found some souvenirs to bring back to the boatshed. The fan in this photo was bought in Chinatown in Brisbane:

I loved them so much I bought two. They're so delicate that their lives as fans are probably limited, but they make a great wall decoration:

I can't afford a real chandelier, but this great hanging decoration from Kuranda markets fills the space above the table:

Thank you No Chintz

A few weeks ago I visited No Chintz in Sydney. While I couldn't afford the $100+ per metre for much of the fabric, I found the remnants basket and made some beautiful cushions. For ages I've experimented with several different cushion combinations for this seat and never been entirely happy with them. When I don't change cushions for six months, I know I've found the right ones. Hopefully these will be them. The fabric on the left is Designer's Guild:

I made this green and pink cushion over six months ago and from the minute I placed it on this chair with the vintage floral print one, they've stayed together in their cushiony perfection:

I've had these two for over five years. I made the one at the back from No Chintz remnants and the front one from the still-intact border of a threadbare vintage tablecloth:

These are also made from No Chintz remnants, the back one recently and the front one a few years ago:

Inexpensive Decorating

Over the past year while I haven't been blogging, I've managed to find some bargains such as this globe from the op shop for around $10:

I found this chair on the street a few months ago looking the worse for wear and sanded and varnished it. I think it's cedar:

A year ago I pegged up the postcards I'd bought at the Vanves flea markets in Paris. Then I started putting up other images which caught my eye:

And, voila, an inspiration wall:

I also made some bunting to provide spots of colour in the boatshed:

It has a fun, summery feel:

My Quilt

I'm finally able to show off my quilt. I hand-pieced it in 1985 and machine-sewed the panels together shortly afterwards. I then tacked this top layer together with some wadding to a piece of calico, and attempted to hand-quilt three of the panels. However, it all just became too difficult so I rolled it up and put it away for twenty years:

I must admit a couple of years ago I cheated by having someone finish off the quilting by machine. But it still wasn't finished. It needed to be edged:

So a couple of months ago, I took the strips that I had so carefully cut 24 years ago and edged the quilt with them.

It's so beautiful even after all this time. And definitely worth the wait.