Charleston, North California

Legend has it that when my neighborhood was being built in the 1920s,
the homeowners' association mandated that every front yard
had to be planted with camellias.

The idea was to have the entire neighborhood in bloom
with the same flowers at the same time.

I believe this story, because it seems every other house around here has at least
one camellia bush in the front yard, tucked up against the chimney or foundation wall.

Camellias are not my favorite flower. To me they seem shy and inhibited,
the blossoms often hiding inside a tangle of leathery foliage.

However, they give the streets a kind of southern charm we don't experience
any other time of year.

Now, the magnolias -- they are something else entirely.

Right now, in northern California, the magnolias are not just whistling Dixie.
They're singing "hallelujah!"

There are so many varieties, it's dizzying.

 

I love the way they just open their blowsy heads to the sky.
Like reckless sun worshippers.

Thanks to the magnolias, our streets are as fragrant as women off to a fancy ball.

The magnolia trees were not mandated by anybody, but people here have been
planting them for years, including me. The blossoms don't last long,
but right now, they are stealing the show.

Sorry, camellias. I did let you be the first act.

Note: All photos were taken by me with my iPhone.

(c) Copyright 2013 A Silken Swoon. All rights reserved.

Fade to white

Since the age of five, when my mother let me choose wallpaper for my bedroom 
(a pretty French toile, with blue peasants dancing on a white background), 
almost every place I have lived in has featured color and/or pattern on my walls.

I have run the gamut from navy blue in the living room to 
chocolate brown in the kitchen to apple green in the bedroom 
(hint: don't do this if you value the way your face looks in the mirror). 

In my previous home, the living/dining area was ragged in a faux-parchment texture
(32 hours of arm-breaking work, and I'll never do that again), 
and I had pale lavender walls in the guest bath. 

So I find it interesting that now I'm being drawn to rooms with white walls, like Kay O'Toole's gorgeous home in Houston, featured in the current Lonny magazine.

 
What a gorgeous built-in bookcase, with those pilasters on either side.

Kay O'Toole's home puts me in mind of Furlow Gatewood's exquisite
Gothic cottage in Georgia. Okay, so these walls are light gray. But you get the idea.
 

via Veranda

The grisaille mural against the pale wall is stunning, don't you think?

via Veranda

 These dark woods, colorful rug and blanket definitely add interest --
imagine how bland this bedroom would look without them.

via Veranda

One of my all-time favorite bedrooms has white walls,
with a gilded canopy that steals the show.  

I think in order for white walls to look really scrumptious, you need some architectural interest in the room -- high ceilings, paneling, moldings, beams, beadboard.

And the whites can't be just any whites.  They must have a drop of something -- creamy yellow, soft green, silver, even pink (did I use that word? I am not fond of pink).

Farrow and Ball has 20 shades of off-white. See them here.

Am I really going to paint my soft yellow and green walls white? I might just start with one room and see how I feel about it.

Stay tuned.

A dog's life

Did you catch the gorgeous creatures strutting down the runway earlier this week?

No I don't mean these.

 

I mean these. 

Every year, when I watch the Westminster Dog Show, I wonder: where do these pooches live? Are their homes as polished and perfect as they are?

So I decided to try pairing some of the Best in Breed winners with homes I think they belong in. 

A vision in brown and white should be... 

...right here. Imagine all the fun he'd have trying to jump up on those stools.

(What do you mean, no?)

Beautiful as a piece of sculpture.

So they made one of him and put it on the sofa console.

The black and white country dog.

The black and white country living room.

By Darryl Carter, via Elle Decor

Cute, cuddly, friendly. 

Cuddly, friendly corner.

via Architectural Digest

When I found my beautiful rescue dog last year, some friends suggested I chose him because he has a certain, shall we say, rapport with my decor.

I protest! 

(It was those eyes that got me. And the perpetually wiggling nose.)

Although when I got him home, I admit I was astonished at how well he fit with my color scheme.

Hmmm...the power of the unconscious?

Going to the birds

Did you know that there are nine different types of bird's nests? That not all 

bird species build and use nests? 

Here's something that probably won't come as a surprise: most nests are built by female birds, with an occasional bit of help from the male. (Here, honey, I brought you a twig. Don't say I didn't do anything.) 

I didn't know any of these things when the shy young man who was clearing out 

some brush in my yard brought me three beautiful bird's nests, cradled delicately 

in his big hands. "They're from your trees," he said. "I though maybe you would 

want to keep them?"

I most certainly did. Enchanted, I took them in and gave them a home. 

And, in that way the universe has of sending you the things you put your attention to, 

suddenly I was finding bird's nests all over the place.

Like this charming adobe-style home for robins:

And this messy, twiggy salad bowl:

Notice the dried hydrangea petals in there -- obviously some serious attention 

was paid to decorating.

This amazing creation is called a pendant nest.

Do you think there was some conversation about this one? Like, "You call that moss? 

That's not moss. Go take a look at what's growing on the water tower on North Main. That's moss. And bring some back, please."

Here's a nest that looks like a nautilus.
Notice the elegant bit of string woven in on one side.

 

  In case you're wondering, it feels like a sock that's been 

put in the wash many, many times, without any fabric softener. 

Seriously, can you imagine the hard work and dedication that went into building this?

(And I have to sit down at just the mere thought of repainting my living room.)

Just so you know...no birds were harmed during the writing of this post. All of these nests were empty and abandoned when I found them. 

   

Silk Taffeta

 

I love silk taffeta. Its rustle and gleam. The way it folds and drapes languorously, while still retaining its shape. I love the fact that you can, with your hands, mold silk taffeta curtains into almost any shape you want, from a rippling waterfall to a long, lazy balloon.

Silk taffeta dresses up every room you put it in. Even if your furniture is simple and inexpensive, put up some silk taffeta curtains, and you’re suddenly in a ballroom.

They’re pretty in pink, as in this Suzanne Kasler-designed dining room.

They’re gorgeous in blue, as a complement to Chinoiserie.

Burlap sacks on the chairs, weathered wood furniture, and silk taffeta at the windows  -- stunning!

What should we do with this window? Here’s your answer (from Eleanor Cummings).

I think I’ll just sit here for a while…like a few years…
let the curtains fray around me.

This has to be the most beautiful bathroom of all time. 
Who would think to put a chocolate silk taffeta balloon shade in a bathroom? 
Someone who understands the magic of silk. 

It’s true, silk taffeta doesn’t like the sun. Without protection, these curtains will,