Friday, February 19, 2010

A Tribute to a Fiercely Talented Bloke!


Lee Alexander McQueen being interviewed by his mother Joyce from the Guardian UK.
Lee Alexander McQueen. The man encompassed all that I admire in design. He was British, talented (truly), prolific, creative, innovative, outrageous and clearly human.
The "Birth of Venus" dress from 2003 housed at the Met in New York.
Shoes from October 2009
As a fellow creative person it was shocking to hear of his untimely passing. I feel fortunate for this platform of a blog to help me process the shocking nature of a man gone way too quickly. He was a man in the prime of his career, and at the top of his professional game. Now all we have is the wonderful body of work he created. Love it or hate it, his work has brimmed with a spirit not seen previously. If you need convincing, look at his work in action here.
Pure beauty from Spring 2007.
A variation on the buttery theme dubbed "Hippy Chic".

Inspired by Harlequin Fall 2009.
Whenever I think of Mr. McQueen I can’t help but think of the iconic photo taken of him (and Isabella Blow) by visionary David LaChapelle early in his career. It gives a glimpse into the outrageous genius to come.
The iconic photo of Alexander McQueen and Isabella Blow by David LaChapelle.

I have chosen to take this opportunity to present my own anthology (and personal favorites) of Mr. McQueen’s work. It is somewhat ironic that Barbara just recently used an image of his Butterfly hat in her post here which I would consider a favorite as well. Although I know that ”Lee” was so much more than his work, I hope that by looking at the work we can gain some insight into a person capable of such diverse beauty.
Mr. McQueen's "Skins" line for Samsonite.

A Union Jack evening bag with skull closure.


An ad campaign from Fall 2009.

My thoughts go out to members of his family, who have been hit doubly hard by the passing of his Mother the week before. Mr. McQueen, please rest in peace.

David Hansen

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

Harbingers of Spring.


My harbinger of spring has always been flowering branches, and access to those branches was very convenient when life was being lived in the Connecticut countryside. On our property there lived a quite substantial hedge of forsythia down by the road, giving me easy access when I wanted it. There is absolutely nothing like the first sight of buds on a branch to bring you out of the “snow fever funk” - with the promise of spring within your grasp and giving you the opportunity to create a little magic indoors. The yellow forsythia was just perfect set against the old plaster walls and wood beams, their warm glow and abundant tiny flowers seeming to warm the frost on the windows that surrounded us on 2 sides.

Life in the country seemed to be all about nature and forcing branches in early Spring was a way of life and something I always looked forward to. Of course, in my first year there I took it to another level, planting 500 daffodil bulbs in the Fall and 200 crocus, but that’s another story.



Living in California now I have access to Quince rather than Forsythia, but I still have the fever. Some things just never change, nor do you want them to.

Guidelines for Forcing Branches (courtesy of Marcia Passos Duffy).
Marcia is a freelance writer and the publisher and editor of The Heart of New England online magazine.

While forcing branches is simple to do, but there are a few guidelines for helping the process along:
1. Pick a day to cut branches when the temperature is above freezing. Forcing can be done as soon as the plant is out of dormancy. This may be as early as mid-January for forsythia and pussywillow. However, for the more difficult to force ornamentals (such as crabapple, apple and redbud) its best to wait until mid-March or longer.
2. With pruning shears or a sharp knife cut branches that have numerous flower buds (you can tell flower buds apart from leaf buds by the larger size of the flower bud). Cut the branches like you are pruning the tree or bush – don’t disfigure the ornamental (you want it to still look pretty when the time comes for it to truly bloom).

3. After you bring the branches inside, split open stem bottom with sharp scissors about 1 inch (if it’s a woody stem, gently mash the ends with a hammer). This will help the branches absorb water. You may also want to re-cut the bottoms a bit to ensure that air hasn’t blocked the cut end. Remove any buds or twigs that will be under water to prevent rot.

4. Place in a vase of warm (not hot!) water. Place in a cool location away from direct sunlight. Higher temperatures will cause the buds to develop rapidly, but you’ll sacrifice its size, color and quality. Branches need light for forcing, but not direct sunlight. Heat from direct sun is too intense, and often drying. Remember, they need springtime (not summer) conditions to bloom. You can also mist them occasionally to prevent drying. Add a floral preservative to help control bacteria. Change water 2-3 times a week.
5. Forsythia and Pussywillow generally take only 1 to 3 weeks to force. Flowering fruits like apple, crabapple and cherry can take up to 4 weeks. And lilacs can take 5.
6. Sometimes the buds are stubborn and take longer to open. And occasionally some buds don’t respond even to the tenderest loving care…but you can almost be certain you’ll be rewarded with bright green foliage for your efforts.
7. Once the blossoms are out, you can move the branches to a sunnier location. They’ll last longer if you keep them away from heat vents at night.


Barbara Ashfield

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

Does Absence Make The Heart Grow Fonder?


We’ve been a little out of touch lately, in fact it’s the first time we’ve been gone this long since we started blogging in earnest about a year ago.

We have good excuses, although typical; We have been busy with clients (a good thing), we made a submission to do a room at the San Francisco Decorator Showcase (alas we did not get said room, but more about that later), and most recently we attended “Design San Francisco” (more about that later as well).

Being so busy of course has given us more ideas about what to write about, but there just haven’t been enough hours in the day.

We look forward to getting back to our “Design journal online” with old subjects, new features and much more.

See you soon!


Barbara and David

Wednesday, January 20, 2010

Making Wallpaper Fashionable...Again!


Cole & Son, the well known purveyor of wallpaper has joined forces with British fashion legend Vivienne Westwood for a line of new wallpapers. The line was introduced in the UK last October, but won’t be coming to America until March 2010. Westwood lends her trademark quirky style to this line that portrays her verve in a brand new medium. These papers aren’t for everyone, but they bring an alternate point of view to the existing Cole & Son range.
The designer of the latest Cole & Son range...The fabulous Vivienne Westwood.

The company will be presenting the new Westwood collection, along with new patterns in their Classix II at the upcoming Maison et Objet in Paris January 22nd through the 26th.
"Magnolia" by Vivienne Westwood for Cole & Son.

"Tromp O'leil" by Vivienne Westwood for Cole & Son.
"Dogtooth" by Vivienne Westwood for Cole & Son.

The new Westwood line is in keeping with the company’s attitude of collaborating with noteworthy contemporary designers. In the past these have included David Easton, Tom Dixon, and the archives of Piero Fornasetti. Each of these collaborations has broadened the company’s offerings and made them the wallpaper of choice among designer and client alike.
"Libris Maximus" by Cole & Son.
"Indian" by Cole & Son.

A contemporary classic "woods" by Cole & Son.

"Classix II-Canonbury" flocked wallpaper by Cole & Son.


"Checkmate" handprinted wallpaper by Cole & Son.
Anyone interested in interior design has seen a Cole & Son wallpaper, and the company’s offerings have become quite iconic. With the resurgence and renewed interest in wallpaper over the last few years the fascination with Cole and Son has only multiplied. The firm has positioned itself as the standard since 1873 when it was originally known as John Perry Ltd. Since many of their papers are hand printed with wood blocks or silk screens. It is interesting to learn where some of the wood blocks originated from. Cole and Son has steadily acquired wood printing blocks from other notable wallpaper manufacturers throughout the years as these firms have gone out of business. By 1941 the company owned the most significant collection of wooden printing blocks in Britain, and perhaps the world. Many of these patterns the company acquired throughout the years have been used in stately homes and castles throughout the United Kingdom and Europe. Cole and Son wallpaper has even been used in the White House here in America.

Screenprinting the "Rajapur" pattern. Each repeat is done by hand.
Hand printing the "Catwalk" pattern.

Screen printing the "Aragon" pattern.

Cole & Son is available in San Francisco through Lee Jofa. My thanks go out to Savannah Amerson, the manager of our local showroom for connecting me with images and content from the home office in the UK.

Savannah in the Lee Jofa showroom with a wallpaper by Piero Fornasetti.

I look forward to seeing the Westwood range first hand!

David Hansen
* Please Note: We did not receive compensation for this post. We really love the wallpaper!

Tuesday, January 19, 2010

Haiti Still Needs You!


It seems difficult to go on without mentioning the astounding earthquake in Haiti, especially since we here in the Bay area are so prone to earthquakes ourselves.

If you think you can swing it please take a moment to send a donation to help with the relief effort.

Since there are a plethora of ways to give we have chosen a link to Oxfam’s donation web site.

We are keeping the people affected by this tragedy in our thoughts with hopes for a swift recovery.

Please donate here.


Barbara Ashfield & David Hansen

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

Butterflies Are Free!


Linda Evangelista communing with the butterflies.

A couple of months ago, I took a little “local adventure” - which by moi’s definition would be something within a 3-hour drive that promises to be so fabulous that I can’t stand not to see it. Of course, this is only local. I would go to the ends of the earth in a heartbeat, given the opportunity, to explore some thing or some place deemed wonderful.

Monarch butterflies in flight in Mexico-Image by Frans Lanting of Corbis.


Life magazine cover from 1907.


Blue Morpho butterflies.

And so it was, in November of 2009, that once and for all I made the trip to see the infamous Monarch butterflies at Pacific Grove near Carmel, California. Somehow I had imagined that seeing this miraculous spectacle of nature would take me to a higher consciousness in design (I may also feel this way about the swallows of Capistrano and all those salmon swimming upstream to spawn). It’s the miracle of Mother Nature – the greatest designer of them all, no? Alas, although I had triumphed in my quest to seek out the elusive butterfly en masse, this year’s spectacle was not as spectacular as promised – a mere 900 rather than the 9,000 seen in previous years. But it was absolutely monumental to think that, while gazing at these little creatures clinging together in “hives” among the tall Eucalyptus trees was the result the miracle of nature. There you go.

African butterflies whose wings operate in a similar way to LED lights.
Installation in the Dior Homme store in Paris.


Wood shavings made to look like butterflies. Via Paris Parfait. Image by Tara Bradford.
For many of us, just hearing the word butterfly instantly evokes an image of delicate beauty awash in exuberant color, either literally or figuratively. Be it through the medium of music, painting, or cuisine, the image of butterfly has been captured in fashion, jewelry, and interior design, to name a few.

Butterfly hat by Alexander McQueen.

Butterfly dress by Luly Yang.

The butterfly has adorned the clothing of the Queen of England and the Duchess of Windsor; after all, one variety is named “Monarch” – and why do you think that is? …because it is the King of the insect world - not by power, but by grace. Even though they are small creatures, they do phenomenal things. Just think that each autumn; thousands of these Monarch butterflies gather in southern Canada to migrate south, travelling thousands of miles just to overwinter in places such as Mexico, while others head for Cuba, Pacific Grove and Newark, California. Go figure.

Barbara Ashfield

Sunday, January 3, 2010

Move Towards The Light!

Via Google images.
Happy New Year! We are now safely in 2010 and it seems people couldn’t be happier, myself included. 2009 was challenging in many ways, which I know I don’t need to go into here. Over the last few weeks I’ve been talking to all kinds of people and I’ve never experienced so much optimism and excitement about a new year since I can remember. Perhaps it’s because we’re also in a new decade, but I think it’s fair to say that this will be the year for new outlooks and new attitudes!
Image from craigstinson.com

I think like most people I can’t help but sum up the previous year and find ways to improve and change myself for the better. Personally, I prefer to have goals rather than resolutions. I find resolutions are a trap, and set one up for almost certain disappointment. I know it’s probably just semantics, but I’ll stick with my goals!
Image by Adrian Reilly from the BBC web site.

Besides having goals I think it’s important to have a mantra or manifesto of sorts to define the year. I’ve decided that this year’s mantra will be ”Move towards the light!”. I speak of light metaphorically here, but it sure seems to work for the plants in my garden. I refuse to be affected by the negative, and promise to find the upside in all situations. It’s truly all about optimism…The literal light at the end of the tunnel.
Close Encounters of the Third Kind.

When I think of “Move towards the light” I can’t help but think of those classic Science Fiction films where the earth dweller walks blindly towards the light (the alien spacecraft). This is the other aspect of this particular mantra: moving toward something you know nothing about. I promise to do that as well this year. Barbara and I starting blogging (in earnest) last year and we had no idea what we were getting ourselves into, but we have found it to be a rich, rewarding experience, and so goes life!
The New York apartment of Keith Johnson and Glen Senk from Elle Decor 10/2009.

My wish for everyone is to find that metaphorical light and move toward it! If you do, perhaps we will see you on your journey!
The Dining room of Keith Johson and Glen Senk from Elle Decor 10/2009.
I leave you with a quote on optimism and some interiors where natural light is a key component.

“Optimism is faith that leads to achievement” Helen Keller

Happy New Year 2010!

David Hansen

Thursday, December 24, 2009

Everything Old Is New Again…Christmas Shopping With My Mother


Me spending some quality time with Santa.
Everything old becomes new again at some point, isn’t that what they say? The memories, -they take you back to a time when Santa was the real deal. Often times, nostalgia gets hold of you and something inside yearns for the rebirth of an old favorite. The old City of Paris is now Neiman Marcus, but who’s to say that in 10 years, it wouldn’t make a comeback? Could we dream the same fate for the old I. Magnin which is now Ferragamo, etc., Joseph Magnin which is now Barneys, etc. etc., and the same for the original FAO Schwartz, the original Gump’s and… and a big one, the original lobby of the Westin St. Francis hotel before Barbara Barry came into town.
Union Square as it used to look. It's still the epicenter of shopping in San Francisco.

As I reflect on Christmas past, it seems that I can still recall in an instant the venture my mother and I took, every year during the Christmas holiday, when we made our annual jaunt on the train from the Peninsula to the City, specifically, to Union Square, for a big day of our annual Christmas shopping and “ladies lunch”. It was the early ‘60s when my mother wore a suit and heels, gloves and a hat to shop. She always insisted that I too done the gloves, albeit mine were white and not black kid. At that age of course, who knew it was how one dressed for a day in the big city; at the time I assumed they were meant to keep my hands clean for lunch. I still remember.
The stained glass dome from the City of Paris store, now a part of Neiman Marcus.

My mother always knew how I loved an adventure. Even then she would play right along with me, from the moment I awoke on the particular day. She would have laid out my clothes, prepared a special breakfast for she and I, and then we would set out on the train. I would beg her to tell me the schedule aloud, count by count, even days before. After arriving at the train station, we cabbed it to Market Street where always made a stop at the old Sees Candies where I was rewarded for my good behavior with a chocolate sample, handed to me from one of the ladies in white who dispersed them from her basket. The next stop was always City of Paris. For those of you old enough to remember it, it was all about the TREE. Five floors tall, at least, and it rose up to the glass domed top of the store, each floor cylindrically set. The tree was like a rocket at Cape Canaveral. The ornaments were huge, the size of basketballs, and as a child it seems like everything is real. You could stand on the top floor and look down. It was scary and fabulous all at the same time. I still remember.
A vintage shot of the Christmas tree in the City of Paris San Francisco store.

I. Magnin was always beautiful too, the true jewel in the crown on Union Square. I especially loved the boxes; even at the age of 6 - metallic gold and pale pink striped, with pale pink satin ribbons. I always felt like a princess when I walked in onto the white marble floors through the Cosmetics Department to the elevators and the mirrored walls where glass shelves hung laden with bottles and bottles of perfume. I still remember. It was at I. Magnin where we made a point of visiting the Ladies Room to freshen up before lunch. Mother let me know it was the most fabulous ladies room on the Square, with its’ dark green marble and enclosed stalls. I felt like I was in a bank. How fun was that? I still remember.
I. Magnin, a former San Francisco institution.

The next stop would be Joseph Magnin, the hip “other store” belonging to the Magnin family. Mother bought loads of things here; I mean how many mothers had paper dresses hanging in their closets? They always had a great gift department on the first floor and the huge ceramic cupcake cookie jar still has a spot on Dad’s kitchen counter. Their gift boxes were great too, but the design changed every year, the most fabulous one being the pink and maroon diamonds. I still have one.

It would be about Noon or 1ish now and we were usually famished and made the traditional stop at the little café in between the Magnins – can’t remember the name. All I remember is that the ladies wore starched pink dresses and little hats, the walls were mirrored, and it was the size of a shoebox. It was like a magic jewel box and we were crammed in there like sardines. The specialty was creamed spinach in a bowl or a sliced egg sandwich. At that age I had the egg sandwich; the creamed spinach was just not in my repertoire. I was thrilled to take a “tray” in the serve yourself line. I thought that was the greatest thing in the world. I still remember.
A vintage poster of a San Francisco flower vendor in Union Square.

After lunch was Gump’s, but the first order of business was always the flower cart at the store’s entrance where my mother ALWAYS bought me my Christmas corsage – either a small bouquet of violets or a single gardenia. It was one of the highlights. As I have come to know, Harold Hoogasion’s dad owned that cart. He was probably the man who pinned that gardenia onto my lapel. I took very good care of that flower well into the night, gingerly removing it before going to bed and putting it in a glass of water next to my bed. I still do that at Christmas. I buy a gardenia and pin it to my collar. I still remember.
Gump's, always a must for shopping in Union Square.

Gump’s meant shopping for presents for my grandparents, aunties and cousins. It was always something small enough so that mailing it wasn’t too difficult. Shopping there was a joy too as I would absorb myself in the stationery department, enamored with sealing wax and seals. I thought that was the greatest thing ever. I have a collection of seals and waxes to this day. I still remember.
The dome from the old Emporium store, now a part of a shopping mall.

At four-thirty we headed for the lobby of the St. Francis Hotel to meet my father (now the Westin St. Francis). Of course as soon as we entered, we headed immediately for the ladies room, again, another vault, ensconced in marble and matrons where once again we “freshened up” and were finally allowed to “remove” the gloves. We took a seat in the lobby as we waited for Dad. We had cocktails there in the lobby; mine of course was a Shirley Temple, then it was off to see Santa. Macy’s was the venue of choice for Santa, or sometimes even the Emporium. Macy’s had a great Santa, but Emporium had the Ferris wheel on the roof. Of course Santa was the big event of the evening with me telling Mr. Claus why I had been such a good girl and why I really deserved that bicycle. Don’t we all have a picture of ourselves sitting on Santa’s lap? I still remember.
The rooftop of the old Emporium store with rides.

Tradition had it that Japanese was the cuisine du jour; basically because it was my night and that was my favorite; and not because of the food but because I thought it was terrific that you could sit on the floor, take off your shoes, and have dinner. I still remember.
The Ashfield famiy at dinner.

After dinner meant Christmas lights and we ended our big adventure every year with a drive around the city to see the lights. I still remember.

I’m well into my life now, and my mother is not with us anymore. And every year at this time, when I’m at Union Square, I still remember the Christmas shopping with my mother. It’s a favorite memory, and therein lies the magic of Christmas for me. Timeless.

Barbara Ashfield