This was actually the post I meant for yesterday; the Le Lac post was to be a little something, and then this. But I got carried away. Speaking of carried away…

This layout of Coco Chanel’s apartment is in the same issue of House and Garden, January of 1986. Chic and opulent, it is a stand out against the deco design craze of her day.

I love how the rooms are a symphony of the same tone. Taupe, carmel, honey. She called these earth colors. I always think I want that and end up with a house that looks like a handful of M&M’s.

For someone who streamlined – revolutionized – women’s dressing, she had a lot of stuff. Chanel watched her friends closely, and learned from them, but decorated her home herself. She said, “An interior is the natural projection of the soul.”

The author, Edmonde Charles-Roux, quotes Chanel in the article as saying she hates women who collect things. Yet she had a number of lions in her home, an homage to her astrological sign. And a good one, I might add.

In adddition, the author notes she considered corn her luck charm and he references these book bindings. I don’t want to quibble with Chanel, but as a mid west girl, this looks like wheat to me.

There are many brass objects scattered about, although Mme. Chanel reportedly hated “dust catchers.” This one contains a crystal from one of her fabulous chandeliers; it fell off one evening while Givenchy was in the drawing room. He placed the crystal in the frog’s mouth. It was never removed.

One of the first design books I owned was Interior Inspirations by Roger Banks-Pye of Colefax and Fowler. To say I owned it would be an understatement. I devoured it. Banks-Pye used the level of detail I aspire to.

He was an outstanding designer who painted doors with three or four shades of white to subtly bring out their distinct details.

I’ve picked up this book with intent, in despair and in boredom and I rarely rise from the chair uninspired. The fillet around this library wall led to a similar treatment in a friend’s dining room.

The treatment, below, would be an easy, if time-consuming do-it-yourself project. Banks-Pye painted the walls oxblood then tore the squares of parchment to give them an unfinished edge. (Nick Olsen showed something like this yesterday with a tea paper look-alike.)

This is Valentino’s guest bath. I love the high/low tension of the ticking on the walls above the intricate and hand painted paneling below.

And while he clearly had the traditional Colefax and Fowler, English country thing nailed, my favorite work of his was his own home.

While he believed that if you could not afford truly fine things you could make a great statement with a lot of “rubbish,” his own rooms are like jewel boxes. In his drawing room he used tea-stained and drip-dried fabric that he tacked to his walls.

His bedroom is a quintessential example of this work. This room is riot of pattern and color, but does not seem manic. He deemed the chintz too feminine for the windows so pasted it to the floor. He often used the navy and aqua combination, here wielding his tacks again to affix the crewel to the walls. The blond wood, the symphony of pattern, the pottery and that essential touch of black tell us this was a man comfortable in his style. I don’t think we would have been surprised by him if we had had the chance to meet him; I think his rooms tell us something about him. No show house, no hotel room, no flipping intended here. These rooms are so real.

Roger Banks-Pye died in 1996 at 48. All images Interior Inspirations, Roger Banks-Pye.

I’m not making a political statement, but it’s supposed to be autumn here. If there is an upside to mid-western weather, it’s the seasons. They are – or they used to be – distinct. Winter, cold and snowy. Spring, fresh and windy (and a little rainy, truth be told.) Summer, hot and steamy. Fall. For me, fall was the pay-off for all the rest. Cool and crisp it is/was a bright riot of color. And just my colors, red, yellow and orange.

Mario Buatta in AD. A fan of Sister’s, looks like he appreciated Hadley as well.

But, it’s 80 degrees. So, like Megan, I’m pretending it’s fall. You might think I”m outside playing ball with the boys, but no. When the house is quiet and there is a chill in the air, I love to be inside reading a book. And where better than the library?

Former Vice President and Mrs. Al Gore’s home by Parish-Hadley, Albert Hadley, The Story of America’s Preeminent Interior Designer, Adam Lewis

It’s difficult to think “library” and not have all these stately images come rushing at you. Let’s face it, if you have a room you can devote to books, it says you have the luxury of a little free space.

Ralph Lauren’s Bedford, NY library
Usually rich in detail and color, these rooms are made for comfort. To me, they are cozy and powerful at the same time.

Go ahead, Sister, plant that 18th c. English secretary right in the middle of your bookcases. Why shouldn’t you? Sister Parish’s home, HG’s Best in Decoration, 1987. Don’t miss the needlepoint chair.
And while a library would be an extravagance, they are usually smaller rooms. Tight and confined, they are holding something dear.

MAC II for Bill Blass from HG’s Best in Decoration, 1987. Black doors and trim and the library lamps make this one of my favorites.

Knowledge? Yes. And heirlooms and treasures. In the past, perhaps a keeping place of souvenirs of it’s master’s travels. Imagine the ivory and tortoise, turquoise and tea.

Mari Ann and Michael Maher’s home, Elle Decor, July/August ’07

And today, more of the same. Except with a Mac.

Image, top, the gold standard. Mrs. Vincent Astor’s library, Albert Hadley.