Lucky me! I just spent two delightful days with Angela Liguori, photographing her studio as well as a bookmaking project for Remodelista. (You may remember Angela from Martha Stewart’s article last November or from my recent post.) Originally from Rome, Angela is an extremely inspired and talented designer and bookmaker, who also imports gorgeous cotton ribbon from Italy. Being in her shop, surrounded by vivid color, textures and sundry treasures, was a bit like being a kid in a candy store. No matter where you turned there was some exquisite detail to tempt your eye. In fact, the shoots took a bit longer than usual, mostly because Angela and I kept pausing to share favorite finds and designs, to restyle a corner yet again, to discuss our families and children, to refuel with a cappuccino or a spot of tea, or to pine away after the warmer weather in Rome. All in all, it was a very Italian experience and tons of fun. Not to mention that Studio Carta is an absolute photographer’s dream.

Studio Carta

a sneak peak at Angela’s accordion book project, going up on Remodelista next week

the floor-to-ceiling selection of ribbons, stationery and notions at Studio Carta

tools of the trade on Angela’s worktable

caffè and a piece from Angela’s annual calendar

Angela working on our book project for Remodelista

Next to ribbons galore, an antique chair, a found table, Bookhou’s alphabet, and a pendant by George Nelson.

Inspired by her mother, who was a seamstress, Angela imports measuring tapes from Italy. Notions also figure heavily in Angela’s design work. Wrapped around the wooden spool last year’s calendar, which Angela produces annually in collaboration with her friend, Roman graphic designer Silvana Amato.

Vintage stamps, which Angela frequently uses in her work, sit alongside an antique press from 1928 (coincidentally the same year that Angela’s father was born), which Angela purchased at the Museum of Printing in Andover, MA.

cotton thread and twine

On Angela’s worktable, this year’s calendars await assembly.

Studio Carta ribbons come in the most wonderful hues, as well as varying widths and weaves.

Angela also sells packs of her vintage stamps from all over the world.

An artist revealed… in her collection of books

See more at Remodelista.

Above:
textiles by Marlen Karema
Jean Paul Gaultier Spring 2013 via Vogue &  a collection of antique bone saws via Kaufmann Mercantile
132 by Cathy Cullis
halloween florals via Bloom, issue 15
spider web spectacles via Tisane Infusion
chocolate meranges via What Katie Ate

Home as lair.

Excerpts from The Voracity Issue No. 5, “How to Shoot a Wolf.” Photography by Anna Williams. For the complete series and more stunning work, visit The Voracity

red, white and black by Solstice Home

Leave it to some of my favorite Etsy vendors to create instant Halloween decor from a simple arrangement of vintage relics. More subtle than your average dime-store fare, the natural decay of these sophisticated vignettes makes them all-the-more creepy.

for instant decor, just add thorns by Shaving Kit Supplies

 creepy/cute by Ethanollie

bend it black candlestick by Shaving Kit Supplies

Any doll part is creepy. Just ask Chucky. By Shaving Kit Supplies

pretty, but dark by Oh Albatross

old book plates and ribbons, reminiscent of doomed Gothic heroines, by Shaving Kit Supplies

Rats! by Ethanollie

Booooo

mirror in the Brooklyn living room of John Derian via NYTimes Magazine

My very first designskool post was about mirrors and how they enhance the light and architecture of a room. But of course, mirrors as metaphor are even more compelling. “Mirror, mirror on the wall…” Is it not true that most often when we look in the mirror, we are not actually seeking the truth they disclose, but in fact are hoping for something better. A vision not of who we are, but of who we want to be – younger, prettier, smarter. And isn’t it ironic that a mirror, which reveals only the surface, can never tell us these things? It is this dualistic nature – in which we take such great stock in what is a mere reflection that cannot begin to reveal the depth within – that lends mirrors their great iconic power.

Which is why I prefer old, wonky mirrors that display their dents and pocks with pride. For, in gazing into a mirror whose own surface is marked by creeping cracks and web-like splotches, it is harder to seek a shallow ideal. Indeed one is met not with a mere reflection of the light and architecture or with a beautiful face, but with the mirror itself, with all its imperfections. Unlike the smooth neutral plane of new mirror, a mottled looking glass adds its own commentary on the scene, manipulating, distorting it, like art. Reminding with its own history that though beauty may fade, it makes us all the more intriguing.

via Living Agency

via Copenhagen Apartments

via Knitsofacto

Boulevard Leopold via Designtripper

mirror at Marnie’s

vignette via Olsson and Jensen

I love the collection of animals in my Aunts’ house. Vintage curios and mammalian works of art, that, as you walk around the home, both startle and delight. Some are cute. Others are downright bizarre. They have been acquired over the years, on all walks of life (the little bear above was purchased from John Derian at the urging of a certain niece). All have been loved and molded, crafted and cared for to the point where, now, they almost seem alive. Their history is rich. Their personalities are strong. They add life to the home.

Sometimes, when I’m visiting, I move them…

I just received word that one of our favorites, La Pomme, will soon stop selling vintage goods from France while Apol is on a year-long working sabbatical in the Far East. Thus all antiques are now 50% off with the code MOVING50. Sale ends on Oct. 22, so get your orders in now.

Each year as the weather starts to cool down, I feel and an inexplicable pull towards the past. Perhaps it’s the season’s association with Pilgrims and the first Thanksgiving, or Ichabod Crane and the Legend of Sleepy Hollow, but for some reason fall to me is the time of forebearers.

New England in particular, is the perfect place to indulge such a passion. And thus nearly every weekend in autumn I drag my family off in search of some, as-yet-unexplored, historical haunt.

This weekend found us beating a path north to Paine House in Ipswich. Despite the fact that I grew up in Eastern Massachusetts, I had never been to Ipswich. It’s an unbelievably quaint little town, on a river near the sea, full of houses that predate the Revolution. (The oldest I saw was 1639.)

Paine House, is one such residence. Built in 1694 by Robert Paine, this charming yellow saltbox is full of history. But what makes Paine House all the more unique, is that it is one of a few, even in New England, that still sit in its original pastoral setting. A pastoral setting, mind you, that is right on a stunning marsh.

Paine House in its stunning setting

fireplace in the upstairs bedroom

looking upstairs and downstairs

The clapboard facade of Paine House is a classic example of First Period (1620–1725) architecture. Inside the house has a central stair flanked by matching rooms, both upstairs and down.

The upstairs front hall creates an enfilade from bedroom to bedroom.

a downstairs hall looking into the “summer kitchen,” added later

The main room downstairs showcases the original plaster walls and post and beam construction.

period furniture downstairs

wonky hall leading to the summer kitchen (Photography in a house with no straight lines was both a delight and a challenge! And note the squash colored floor. The same as in my cottage kitchen floor.)

exterior with a view of the summer kitchen in the rear

Olie and Solvi on the field path

tag with Dad

house from the field

discoveries

salt marsh walk

Solvi in the salt marsh

flushing out snakes and grasshoppers

the back of Paine House

tree climb

Solvi, collecting chestnuts, on the wood path

milkweed!

Oliver in search of milkweeds

One of the best times I ever had was the afternoon I got to rummage through the basement of Kim Ludy. (You can see what I bought here.) The talent behind Ethanollie, Kim, as well as her mother, Sue Teso of Solstice Home, supplied the majority of fab finds in my cottage. (Click here for my tour of Sue’s home.) Oh, how I miss popping into Sue’s former Cape Cod shop, finding her or Kim there, hearing the stories behind their discoveries, and communing about design.

Fortunately for West Coasters, my loss is your gain, because Kim and Sue have joined forces with Rebekah Dortmund of Little Byrd Vintage (another Etsy favorite) and original shop owner Jacklyn Arvin, to form the Maven Collective.

Located in the Montevilla neighborhood of Portland, OR, the shop offers these vintage mavens’ rare blend of storied goods and sublime styling – all under one roof. The ladies also plan to open their shop up to other favorite artisans from across the country in the form of monthly pop up shops that coincide with the neighborhood’s First Friday Art Walk.

So enjoy, Pacific Northwest. And while you’re indulging in a little slice of vintage heaven, please think of me.

A little gift from my friend Sue: this petite painting in gold, which looks so nice next to my flea market seascape. You always did have the perfect little things for my cottage, Sue. Thank you. Thank you!