Passementerie

Die Fledermaus (or, further adventures with Vogue)

It was a quiet warm night in Oxford.  The baby had woken up and I had just finished feeding her.  She was lying in my arms dozing off and I was waiting for her to fall asleep before putting her back in her cot so I could go back to bed.  I was gazing idly around the darkened bedroom when something large and black on the ceiling caught my eye.  Now, when I say large, I don't mean as large as, say, a rabbit.  But I do mean larger than a spider.  Quite a bit larger.

It moved.

I stared.

It was still.

I pondered. 

Could it possibly be a butterfly?

I put the baby down in the cot and stood directly beneath the mystery intruder and gradually the shape resolved itself in the darkness. 

It was a bat.

Now, before I go any further, you must remember how fabulous I usually am about these things.  Remember the mice in Paris and the copy of Vogue?  And how whenever a drain is blocked I'm always first at the scene with a pair of rubber gloves, a wire coat hanger and a packet of caustic soda?  I am fearless.  Usually.  Not the other night, alas.  I decided that the Vogue approach would probably be appropriate, in a modified form and duly seized a wastepaper basket and a magazine (it might have been Harper's Bazaar, admittedly) but in my heart I knew that this approach had flaws.  So.. so... I woke up my husband.

He was deeply resentful about being woken up at one in the morning to rescue his wife and daughter from a perfectly innocent bat, but when I admitted to him a slight horror of the thing and a conviction that I could not leave Beatrice alone in a room with it, he agreed to save us.  After all, either he got rid of the bad or she was coming into our bed for the rest of the night and then nobody was getting any sleep.

Five minutes of opening the windows in Beatrice's room wide, turning on all the lights and banging the door, and our visitor had departed our home and returned to the balmy night outside.

Beatrice sleeps with the window closed now.

(Aren't those bat clothes pegs adorable? For your inner goth, from here.)

PS. What will I read next?  I'm about to start The Age of Innocence, but need something new after that.  Should I read Pulitzer-Prize-winning Olive Kitteridge?  It's not the sort of thing I would normally seek out, but I'm always willing to be surprised.  Have you read it?

Gone Visiting

Last year I talked with you about elegant visiting cards from Stern Graveur in Paris, and suggested some smart accessories from Smythson to keep them safe, but the world has changed a little since then and spending large sums of money on what even I must admit to be a frivolity is no longer always possible or appropriate.  But whatever about necessity, I have always found economy to be the mother of invention, and visiting cards are no exception to this.

My favourite four-letter words is, as you should know by now, Ebay.  Through Ebay I have clothed myself in everything from Lulu Guinness heels, Chanel ballet flats and Myla lingerie to Ralph Lauren tweed and Hunter wellies, equipped my baby with everything from the Bugaboo Frog to the Bumbo and furnished my house from top to bottom.

But there is another recession-friendly four-letter word with which I suspect and hope you are quite familiar - Etsy, and it is there that you can find the finishing touches to your visiting equipage.

There is a bewildering number of printing, engraving and letterpress specialists on Etsy offering far more inventive and chic designs than can be found on the websites of the big guns in this department as they don't have to worry about shifting thousands of items, having the freedom to print small quantities on demand.  Also because of the figures involved, you don't have to think about keeping things classic, or trying to find a style you will stick with for many years because you are spending thousands on the full personalised stationery outfit from Smythson - when the costs rarely exceed $50 you can afford to be spontaneous.

The appeal (and necessity) of the visiting card has, I must confess, increased significantly since having a baby.  I, and most other mothers, it seems, appear to be capable of remembering only the name of another mother OR child,  not both, and usually it is the child's name that sticks in my mind for some reason, so the time might have come to have my name, telephone number and email address printed in a suitably stylish manner.

Now, you and I both know that strictly speaking, if your child is not old enough to have a card of his or her own, then you should write his or her name in pencil on your own when you leave it, but seeing as the whole point of this enterprise is to avoid digging in your changing bag for a writing implement, there is a lot to be said for a card with the names of all concerned printed thereon.

However, I'm not sure I'm quite ready for that yet and if I can choose a favourite (which I don't think is actually possible) I think I will keep it simple and write Beatrice's name on the card by hand when necessary.

Do you have cards?

Featured above are cards from happygirlgreetings, beansproutstudio, paperandink, mommycards and kootie's closet all on Etsy - with many thanks to all.

Tired Friday Morning Procrastinations

Isn't it odd how being tired narrows your world right down?  Last night I was up every couple of hours consoling a miserable, post-vaccination baby and this morning all my ambitions of writing, Pilates, baby group, studying and a bath have been narrowed down to cleaning the bathroom and washing the kitchen floor.  These both being quite satisfying enterprises (I might be duller than you think I am), I must admit that I don't really consider this to be a failure of a morning.

Why is it that domesticity is so often an excuse for not doing other things like working or studying?  How many of us have sat down at our books or desks and thought "Hmm.  I really should clean the bath before getting down to this."?  My home has always been at its cleanest around exam time and I know I am not alone here.

Still, the baby is asleep and will probably stay that way for about two hours, so I really should get back to cleaning my kitchen floor now...

Image with thanks to here.

Although I don't post about it here a lot, I think a lot about skincare.  I suppose the reason I don't post about it much is that it's not a very visual topic for a blog - jars, bottles and tubes just don't have the sort of aesthetic appeal that you might be interested in as a blog reader.  However, I hardly need to tell you that skin is as fundamental to style as, well, clean hair and nails, so today that's what I'm going to talk about.

You seen, now that the season is changing from spring into summer I think it is time to discuss our skincare regimes with each other, don't you?  Because I'm sure you have all sorts of little tricks to share as well as room to learn from other people.  I'll go first...

At thirty,  I'm moving from "young" skin to "make sure it stays looking young" skin and this has encouraged me to start thinking about prevention in a way that simply wouldn't have entered the head of the goth of ten years ago who thought of nothing more complex than finding the palest (but never white) foundation and who *gasp* probably didn't take it off before going to bed.

I'm quite good about skincare these days.  As I have mentioned before, because I travel and frequently find myself in airports, I tend to have a lot of Clarins on my shelf and always come back to them for cleansing creams and toners, but I have never had much luck with their moisturisers, despite repeated attempts so I have experimented with a range of other brands quite a bit over the last couple of years.

Lately, I have had to play around with different products as my skin changed from oily pregnancy skin to surprisingly dry post partum skin (perhaps somewhat due to breastfeeding?), as well as usual differences from the change of season.  Institut Esthederm has been my stalwart through all this though, as I have been able to switch from the Cellular Water  Gel during pregnancy to the Cellular Water Cream afterwards, with a boost from Clarins HydraQuench Intensive Serum every so often on my forehead (or an occasional dose of Generation 6 Double Serum at night).  I also use Bobbi Brown Hydrating Eye Cream and I like it for being simple and unfussy, both in its formulation and packaging.

I use Shiseido SPF 55 Lotion (it's lighter than the cream) when I'm in the sun and not wearing makeup, such as when we were in Marrakech and India and whether it was the formulation or the fact that my skin secretly loves the sun, my complexion never looked better - it positively glowed.   Sadly it is probably unnecessarily strong for this climate and I am thinking that a daily moisturiser with an SPF of abut 30 might be a thing I should identify fairly soon - it must be moisturising but light and not cause spots - and all suggestions from you will be gratefully received.

However, I discovered SkinCeuticals a year or so ago and with their pleasingly simple pharmaceutical packaging, the dropper bottles of serums and gels are very appealing.  I use the antioxidant Serum 15 AOX and the Hydrating B5 Gel daily, and the Phyto Corrective Gel when needed and love them all.  When my Serum 15 runs out, I am thinking of upgrading to their new Phloretin CF - a broad-action antioxidant treatment which they have recently launched and looks very impressive indeed.  A bit of an investment though at £128/$150.

Finally, my favourite skincare product of all.

So there you have it.  My skin.  What do you do for yours?

I am thinking of making the content of Passementerie more consistent and posting on specific topics each day of the week - style, interiors, fashion etc. and, just once a week, skincare and beauty.  It would of course remain first and foremost a blog about my life and goings-on, just perhaps with a little more structure.  If it became a little unwieldy, but readers liked it, I would consider moving the skincare and beauty part to a website of its own.  What do you think?

Earning My Stripes

Recently I have decided that I like stripes.  They're a new thing for me, as I have always associated them with modern homes whereas I usually prefer period houses, but lately I have grasped that the world is not that narrow and that they can be used almost anywhere.  In this particular case they will be going into the baby's room and today I am thinking specifically of the floor.

I spotted this picture (above) on Apartment Therapy and just this small detail from an Old-and-New approach to a period home reassured me that a modern, brightly striped rug can work perfectly in a Victorian setting.

Further investigation reveals that chic striped rugs can be found whatever the budget, from the IKEA Unni one featured on Apartment Therapy to the muted pinks of the Piper rug by Christopher Sharp from The Rug Company above.

The stripes don't even have to have colour at all in order to be perfectly elegant.  You might remember from a post quite some time ago about the beautiful vintage cream Moroccan marriage blanket I bought in Marrakech with a little help from Maryam of My Marrakech (if you want one for yourself, she's the girl to get in touch with, incidentally).

However, to return to the original need for a striped rug for Beatrice's bedroom and having seen something very similar in my friend's home in Zug but been unable to discreetly fit it into my suitcase without her seeing as I left, this is the best of the bunch and the one I really want from Rooms You Love ..  As well as being a good size and made of wool, it's stripey, bright and not overtly babyish - I love it.

Have you ever changed your mind about something aesthetic like this and embraced something new?

International Passementerie

This weekend I went to Switzerland to stay with my friend Rhian in her very elegant Zug apartment (huge, minimalist - inspired a frantic rearranging of furniture in my small, cluttered house on my return).  Strong as the temptation was to spend the day on her vast terrace with its spectacular view of the Alps drinking coffee in the sunshine and playing with our babies, we ventured out to Lucerne.

I had been to Lucerne before when I was about fifteen, but clearly it was quite wasted on me (or perhaps it was a cloudy day) because I had no recollection of how spectacular the location is, on the lake surrounded by the still snowy peaks of the Alps.  Even without the setting, the town is gorgeous with as many delicate church spires and branches of Hermès as you could possibly desire.

The weather was glorious as we strolled along the tree-lined promenade by the lake, onto which the grand hotels open up their terraces and it must be admitted that we stopped at more than one for a glass of Prosecco under the trees (I think the National had the edge, personally).

I was disguised as a yummy mummy for the day in my grey Dote dress (you'll be seeing a LOT of that dress this summer) with a Ted Baker waterfall-style cardigan in oatmeal (oh the temptations of shopping in Terminal 5), heels, my navy Storksak with Beatrice's little stripy navy Zebra hanging from it and sunglasses and felt very chic, which helped to counteract the mild embarrassment of asking the concierge of the Palace Luzern where I could deal with a rather dramatic catastrophe related to Beatrice's nether regions (not alone did he escort me to the bathroom personally, but offered to bring me a changing table - perhaps the glamour - or, more likely, the sweetness of Beatrice's smile for him - paid off).

 

Travelling alone with an infant is far simpler than I had imagined, just as long as you know whether or not the airline will bring the pram or stroller to the gate - if you think they will and then they don't, you are faced with a long and slightly overheated walk with a squirming baby, toy, blanket, bag, coat and duty free champagne.  If you know they won't, you step serenely off the plane with a baby frowning out at the world from a Baby Bjorn carrier and a light bag over your shoulder with everything else safely packed away in the checked case. 

One last word of advice to the yummy mummy flying from Zurich to Heathrow: you will not be the only person with a Bugaboo.  All Bugaboo chassis are identical.  Identifying *your* Bugaboo chassis on the carousel when a row of about six of them comes into view is challenging, so this might be the time to consider a little navy grosgrain ribbon to add as a distinguishing, yet smart, detail to save you rather inelegantly squinting at the tiny print on the tags as they sail past you.

I've said it before, but I must say it again - go and look at Jordan Ferney's blog, Oh Happy Day.

What do I...

...do every day?

I go here.

...wear every day?

Well, lately - my new Dote nursing dress* with my empire line H&M trench coat (optional accessory: husband in green jacket).

...come home to every day?

This.

Tomorrow morning, in the spirit of international jet-setting, which has been sadly lacking from Passementerie recently, I'm going to Zug in Switzerland for a few days...

* Because Dote dresses inspire such niceness in everyone, the lovely people at Bella Mama are offering £5 off every order in May and June to Passementerie readers with the code Summer5

More reasons to live in Oxford...

Yesterday the weather was perfect and we had a darling (and, it must be admitted, quite decorative) friend visiting from Notre Dame, so what could we do except go punting for the afternoon?

Being a weekday, the river was reasonably quiet...

...although being a little breezy, cardigans, smart jackets and a very welcome blanket were employed.

The river was blissfully peaceful with ducklings and goslings scurrying about, as well as the odd over-curious swan (one of which followed us quite persistently).

We passed the glasshouses of the Botanical Gardens with Magdalen tower in the background.

We drifted alongside Christchurch Meadow (that's Christchurch itself in the distance)...

It was naturally quite a tough journey, so some sustenance was necessary, as you might imagine (and as one should never drink Tattinger on an empty stomach, there were strawberries too).

After a few lazy, champagney hours, we reluctantly punted back under Magdalen Bridge to return our vessel.

And as we walked back up the High, we paid a couple of visits - Magdalen College itself...

and University College, where the wisteria is in bloom.

I think this is going to be a wonderful summer.

Scandinavian Oxford

I like my house.  I really do.  It's a terraced Victorian two-storey cottage, painted white inside throughout with wood floors bare in some rooms and painted white and cream in others and filled with Victorian and Edwardian oak furniture, upholstered in olive and grey/blue and built-in white bookshelves in every room.  I like it.  But this week as I was cycling down the High, I came across a shop that made me want to take everything out and start again.  I'm not sure whether I am pleased or resentful...

When you step into Northlight, your first thought is "Am I still in Oxford?" because (apart from the Covered Market, of course) too many of the stores on the main shopping streets here in Oxford are either bland UK chains or tourist shops selling Oxford t-shirts, so an establishment with actual style and imagination is a pearl beyond price indeed.

The shop stocks myriad Scandinavian designers with over fifty ranges represented - everything from clocks to toys to oven gloves - Bengt & Lotta, Klippan fabrics, Maileg toys.

Most alluring of all though, at the back of the shop (and on their website too, of course) is their collection of Scandinavian fabrics.  And just in case you look at them and think that you're safe from temptation because you don't know how to use that sewing machine you have tucked away upstairs (right?) they are very devious people in Northlight and assure me that they can use these wonderful fabrics and make practically anything you desire and just in case you don't know exactly *what* you desire, they even offer an interior design service.

So... maybe I could take just one room?  The nursery, perhaps?  Brightly striped  oil cloth from Linum, fabulous flower wall stickers from Bidibull, stuffed toys from Maileg, an elephant mobile over the cot from Flensted and an adorable cow Zoolight...?  What other suggestions would you make for a baby's room (given that I don't like frills or girly things)?

Northlight Design

36 High St
Oxford, OX1 4AN
0044 1865 248850

Starstruck (or, more reasons to live in Oxford)

There are lots of reasons to live in Oxford.  The way the streets look when the chestnut trees are in bloom on a sunny May afternoon.

 

The lovely architecture and the relative peace and quiet of the grounds of the Oxford Union.

And, well, the opportunity to meet Toby Ziegler.

And hear President Bartlet speak.

Huzzah!