GREEN SCENE

As Kermit so famously sang, it’s not easy being green. Although I can’t speak from experience on this one (it didn’t seem to go well for the Grinch, either), I can attest that making peace with it in your home can be a somewhat tricky diplomatic exercise. Apple, Kelly, acid, celadon, jade, sage, olive, emerald, forest, army—of all the colours, green has been graced with the most engaging and illuminating adjectives. There are lots of good greens—great, even—but sometimes they can inspire unease in the most Zen of souls. Tread too far into Mother Nature’s turf and the results can be downright strident, despite the fact that this cool cucumber of a colour generally recedes.

 On the fresher, more yellow-based side, look to hues that offer a vivacious background without the problematic and occasionally unflattering reflections associated with so-called green-greens. Although the wrong yellow-greens can conjure the worst aspects of a sinus infection, the right ones are as delicious and tonic-like as a shot of fine chartreuse. To this end, check out Farrow & Ball’s Olive or the wickedly named Churlish Green, Ben Moore’s Agave and C2’s Al Green. Big box pick: Behr’s Garden Sprout.

 



For a calmer vibe that embraces green’s chameleonic ability to function as a neutral, explore more grey-toned options such as: Elemental and Gettysburg Grey from Benjamin Moore; C2’s chameleonic Wood Ash; and Lichen from Farrow & Ball. Big box pick: Clay Pebble from Behr. Although these were once the fandeck favourites of tony gays in the early ‘90s, they remain eternally elegant and create a soothing background to almost any colour (even strong reds in the right proportion). Best of all, as ‘neutrals’ go they provide a subtle lift not generally found in their extended family of beiges, taupes, paler browns and greys.

 

 

If it’s a bit more drama you’re looking for, consider some of the scandalous love children of blue and green, lying just slightly on the envious side of teal. Even though serious commitment can be required with the stronger varieties, the following hues can inspire the kind of lifelong love that would make swans look like tramps. A few to try on for size include: Farrow & Ball’s Chappell Green; Cayman Lagoon and Azores from Benjamin Moore; and C2’s Tempest, Luna, Topiary or Puck—the colour I recently painted the inside of my closet. Not that I spend much time in there anymore...  Big box pick: Behr’s Rainforest.



HIDE IN PLAIN SIGHT

It’s a fact: 82.735% of all leather furniture in the world is irredeemably ugly. I challenge you to say one good thing about the ‘bad’ items identified below—it’s no coincidence that many of the images came from online buy-and-sell sites where people were trying in vain to exorcise these aniline-dyed demons from their homes. As I acknowledged before, this is my blog and therefore subjective, but let’s see where we can find some common ground, shall we?

UGLY

You know how skin gets all taut and shiny when there's an infection?

 

UGLY

Seriously, you have to agree...

 

UNSPEAKABLY UGLY

More skin-splicing than Joan Rivers...

 

GORGEOUS

Yam-coloured leather on a classic Louis frame

 

FUGLY

It appears to be made out of raw meat—or a grisly take on what Barbapapa would look like skinned alive

 

ELEGANT

Deco-inspired deliciousness!

 

ADORABLE

A bit dowdy but not ugly and actually quite fabulous

 

DEVASTATING

And I mean "devastating" in the best possible way

 

LOOKS LIKE A DIAPER

'Nuff said...

 

KILL THE PERSON WHO DESIGNED THIS

The words "sofa" and "reclining" do not belong in the same sentence. Or even in the same hemisphere.

 

DIVINE

Reminiscent of a classic Barcelona chair

 

DIVINE-ADJACENT

Masculine but still kind of glam-o-rama

 

AGAIN WITH THE UGLY

It appears the Cadbury people misplaced the costume for

their Caramilk mascot...

 

TRAGIC

This would be like sitting on Honey Boo Boo's mum, were she naked.

 

I’m guessing that some of you are protesting my choices (“But it’s comfortable!”). This doesn’t fly with me. Uggs are comfortable. Sweat pants are comfortable. Assuming the fetal position in a vat of warm saline is extremely comfortable—but you wouldn’t go to work like that, would you? See where I’m going with this?

Furniture that looks like a bean bag chair grew up and gave up has no place in the home of adults. It’s generally accepted that big flabby arms are not the most desirable feature on humans—so why would you want them on your sofa?

I know people often choose leather because it’s durable—but if it’s on a piece that’s as ugly as a mud fence, it just means you have to look at it even longer, don’t you? The good news is that there are good leather pieces out there, you just have to look. And looking with your eyes is so much more rewarding than looking with your derriere, so at least try to give it a fair break the next time you find yourself in need of soft furnishings.

 I apologise if I upset you by mocking one of your favourite pieces of furniture—but if you persist in believing that comfort and aesthetics are two mutually exclusive qualities, then the only advice I can give you is: get thee to a vat of saline, pronto! As always, I welcome your notes, feedback, death threats, etc. This is, of course, primarily because I have a thick hide—and it's not adhered to a piece of puffy furniture...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

OLD YELLER

When life gives you lemons—decorate! While it’s true this hue is not for everybody, in its many forms yellow is remarkably versatile and unfailingly cheery. It’s interesting how much a beam of it can lighten things up in the battle of the sexes; I have literally seen it stop uncomfortable disagreements in their tracks when tabled as an option.
In Calgary, where the light is clear and seemingly constant (we have the greatest number of sunny days in all of Canada according to our government climate peeps), yellow can really be pushed to its limits—or at least those of the boldest clients. Whether you opt for ochre or crank it to chromium, yellow offers a surprising range of options that covers the spectrum from feminine tints to masculine shades. Delicate, buttery yellows thrive in more traditional environments while stronger, clearer hues bring character and warmth to the hardest-edged modern schemes.
Although many will shy away from marrying black with yellow for fear of creating the wrong kind of buzz, this combo can be quite dazzling if deftly handled. Kelly Wearstler featured this vivacious pairing (tempered with a bit of fresh white) to great effect in her 2004 book Modern Glamour, showcasing showstopper spaces in both the Viceroy Hotel and Estrella resort.

As I mentioned when we were “in the red”, primaries are problematic for me when they appear too clean and juvenile. Yellow, in my opinion, succeeds most in a primary scheme when it gets down and dirty with equally gritty reds and blues. Pulled from what I call a “nicotine palette”, red, yellow and blue in concert are at their most beautiful and sophisticated when touched with a certain ‘dinginess’. It’s a shady trio that would look fantastic with either deep walnut tones or the subtle visual texture of cerused oak—and gold leaf sings in the midst. This discussion, however, is not some much about recipes as it is ingredients, so let’s press on…

 



If you’re looking to fly solo with yellow at the quieter end of the scale, try C2’s Bees Knees, Farrow & Ball’s Gervase Yellow or Benjamin Moore’s Hawthorne Yellow and Soleil. A decent big box selection in this realm would be Opal Cream from Behr. These work particularly well in a country scheme or, as mentioned, more traditional applications.

For amped-up impact, consider the exuberance of Benjamin Moore’s Sun-Kissed Yellow, Farrow & Ball’s Babouche or C2’s Daffodil. Those with a taste for the tart may be enticed by Behr’s Sun Ray, available for mere pennies a serving through Home Depot. These will all hold their own against stronger colours but still behave themselves alongside quieter neutrals if so requested.

If ochre is more your mood, the deeper drama of C2’s Kazoo and Curry, Benjamin Moore’s Dijon or Farrow & Ball’s Sudbury Yellow might just do the trick. Here, an acceptable big box pinch-hitter would be Martha Stewart’s’ Cornucopia. These robust, earthy hues lend themselves to serious traditionalism, masculine interiors or north-facing rooms that offer even, muted light but need a bit of help in the shine department.

With yellow you’ll find the end result much cheerier and more expansive than anything in the realm of beige. The colour of rain slickers, ducklings, happy face stickers and lemonade, this hue is the Up with People of the colour world; a non-prescription anti-depressant and a chipper addition to any circumstance. Yellow: it’s not just for cowards anymore…

 

 

C'EST SI BO

Four years ago this coming December, Danish lifestyle emporium BoConcept landed in Calgary and changed the city’s retail furnishings landscape. Up until that point, very little bridged the gap between IKEA’s bargain-level Scandi sensibility and some of the higher-end wares peddled variously by such players as Cappelini, Ligne Roset, B&B Italia and Poltrona Frau. While not inexpensive, this retailer offers value for money, delivering a level of quality and customization not generally found in mid-range retailers. The company is always on the lookout for a fresh take on home furnishings (in 2012 they cleverly joined forces with Canadian wünderkind Karim Rashid to produce his “Ottawa” collection) and this year they have introduced a new batch of products to delight our senses of sight and touch. Here are a few of my favourites from the latest collection…

 

Those who know me know I’m a sucker for a good lighting fixture—change that ‘good’ to ‘great’ and I’ll move mountains to get my hands on one. As a matter of fact, I’d shove the Rockies themselves out of the way just to score one from BoConcept’s latest series, aptly named “Pinecone”. The cyber-organic lines of both the pendant (above) and table model (not shown) are right on trend with their evident Deco heritage. Add the fact that these come in both satin silver and copper—the ‘hottest’ of the newer warm metals—and this offering is a winner all ‘round. Clearly at home in modern, Deco or mid-century settings, these pieces are discreet enough to guest star comfortably in a relaxed, traditional setting, too, from Belgian farmhouse to Cape Cod cottage. From top to bottom these little darlings are cheeky, sleek perfection.

 

 

I find this tubby little guy (the sofa, certainly not the attractively scruffy catalogue model) known as the “Bergen” absolutely delightful—and my tastes tend to skew far further trad than mod almost any day! The generous proportions lend themselves to lounging but the overall silhouette is tight rather than slouchy, a common aesthetic problem when it comes to comfort-built furniture. For those so inclined, the Bergen features optional back cushions that slide up for adjustable support—but not in a gimmicky fashion, as some of those “high concept” Italian numbers. Better still, this model can be configured a number of ways, including as a very comfortable a sectional—very gracious accommodations for those unexpected guests. Just promise me if that model shows up you don’t relegate him to the sofa if he’s staying overnight…

 

Without a doubt, this is the supermodel of the company’s illuminated line-up. I find floor lamps, although naturally inclined to elegance due to their height, sometimes still manage to strike an ungainly, dowdy pose in a room. Svelte, sleek and slightly standoffish, BoConcept’s “Adjust Me” is surprisingly androgynous and would look equally marvelous in a staid gentleman’s office as it would in a hip lady’s boudoir (or hip lady’s office and staid gentleman’s boudoir, if that sits better with your sensibilities). Available in both charcoal grey and white, this chameleonic beauty holds its own without aid of bright colour—sometimes good bones are all you need. Try it next to a sectional, arching out of a high-pile area rug (a flokati would be devastating) or leaning attentively over a reading chair—not to mention the million other ways it could be used to make a room sing.

 

 

For those familiar with BoConcept’s stock, these nesters are nothing new—but the colour certainly is. Available in both all-black and all-white, this set was previously offered in a series of rich greens, just in time for “emerald” to reign supreme in Pantone’s kingdom. They are now being executed in a trio of rose tones: the deepest of the three borders on claret, while the mid-tone recalls a candy apple and the lightest is delicious but not too sweet in a true candy pink. No matter the colour, each one is generously proportioned (unlike many nesting tables on the market), extremely sturdy and has the added bonus of removable, laminated wood tray tops. I did a set of them for clients with a toddler and they turned out to be one of the most practical items in the room: durable, wipe-able and just the right height to help a little one learn to walk—much more chic than one of those wheeled trolleys with a set of twirly plastic beads on the front...

 

 

Tempting as it may be, I will refrain from latching onto the corny “tray chic” cliché with this delightful little occasional piece (I already pushed my luck enough with C’est Si Bo). Much like its nesting cousins, this table features a detachable tray top and a generous surface area perfect for serving drinks (or food, if you’re that way inclined). Offered in black, red and a blue that falls somewhere between Birks and Tiffany, this piece is executed in an all-matte finish, including the brushed steel base. Despite its demurely modern stance, this item is versatile enough to insinuate its way into a transitional setting without being seen as an unwelcome guest and certainly does not need to be left lounging in the living room. Used correctly, it would be a divine addition to la salle de bain as a tubside catch-all or in the kitchen, perched on a generous modern island.

 

 



Reminiscent of a giant Vick’s lozenge, this cunning little ottoman dazzles by being different. If you’ve grown tired of the usual cavalcade of geometrics (rectangles, squares, circles; ovals, even) this angular lovely offers a modern alternative with edge—three, to be exact. Shown above in a Missoni-inspired bargello (flamestitch), the piece is available in a wide variety of fabrics and colours, as are most of BoConcept’s upholstered offerings. This ottoman (known only as “Ottoman”, like “Madonna” or “Cher”) is sturdy enough to double as extra seating when not being used as either a footrest or ersatz coffee table (a circular tray sat atop this would be delightful) and the proportions lend themselves to a multitude of applications. With their three-sided versatility, a series of these would be fabulous in a family room or kids’ play area, bunched up to create a sort of lounge-y island you’d be hard pressed to keep adults off of.

For some this might resemble a wastepaper basket in a mid-century office; to others it will call to mind ‘70s string art. In my mind, though, this piece is unabashedly modern—airy, functional and reminiscent of the X-brace motif we’re widely seeing in architecture (think: Sir Norman’s “Gherkin” and Bow; SAIT Polytechnic’s Trades and Technology Complex; and Calatrava’s Peace Bridge). The industrial edge of the cross-hatched steel is tempered by the pale wood top’s inherent organic quality, a canny blend of light and dark, form and function, hard and (visually) soft. Whether used as a stool (also its name; see Ottoman/Madonna/Cher above), caddy (the lid comes off), an occasional table or aesthetic punctuation point in a room, this Swiss Army knife of an occasional piece is destined to become a new classic.

 





The STORY OF 'O'

I could never have an affair with Orange. So great is my passion for this most chipper of hues that the jig would be up in an instant. My particular (or, to some, peculiar) attraction to orange lies mainly in the dynamic way it plays with pink. A very couture combination, this pairing delights me so, I made it the star of my living room, embracing robust oranges and rusts equally as much as shell pinks and deep raspberries. For a glimpse of the inspiration that forms the nucleus of the room, look left to see designer Angela Adams’ “Mammy punch” rug.

 

But back to orange, known here on in as my “main squeeze”. One thing I appreciate most about orange is the way it galvanizes people—more often than not they either love it or hate it at first glance. This is a tremendous help to me, because before being a mad lover of orange I am, more importantly, a guy who knows not to push his luck.

In return, oranges knows not to push its luck with me with such nonsense as ‘peach’(or peche, en francais, a word that’s much easier to spit out with decided disdain). For a quieter take on this blazing beauty, I prefer to lean more to the melon tones or soft corals (think: Chanel) to make a room glow with quiet femininity. On the cantaloupe-y side, try C2’s Shrimp, or if the spirit moves you to be filled to the brim with girlish glee (three little maids from school are we), consider Terra Bella or Queen Anne Pink, both from Benjamin Moore. Big box pick: Behr’s Parfait.

 

One side-note here: a truly favourite sub-set colour remains what I call sunblush melon, the lovechild of both orange and pink (see above re: living room). Think of a slice of cantaloupe that has sat out at length on a summer’s day and acquired a sunburn and you’ve got it exactly. To some ears this might sound like a dreadful refugee from Boca Raton but I assure you it is a gorgeous hue, found in certain varieties of rhododendron and my old “painted lady” Victorian home in Vancouver. Some of the most divine sunblush melons are Ben Moore’s Old World and Coral Gables, or Flamingo and Tomfoolery from C2. Big box pick: Behr’s Fruit Shake.

 

If you are more adventurous/lively/spiritual/stoned, stronger oranges may illuminate your path to success. Again, fully saturated colours can be tough to temper in a civilized space but there are many oranges out there who know how to mind their Ps and Qs. Among these are Fireball and Persimmon from C2; Buttered Yam and Orange Burst from B. Moore and the exquisitely bright (for them) Charlotte’s Locks by Farrow & Ball. Big Box pick: Koi from Behr.

 

If these citrus-drenched lovelies are not to your taste, try some of the more moderate terra cottas to see if they’ll do the trick. And before you diss and dismiss these as “slaves of Santa Fe”, consider terra cotta as a material predates the ‘80s by centuries. Rest assured that these tones are gracious and handily hermaphroditic when pressed to perform in a space… or in the battle of the sexes. Stand-outs include: Firenze by Benjamin Moore; Farrow & Ball’s Red Earth and C2’s earthy and understated offering, Tortoise. Big box pick: Moroccan Sky from Behr.

 

Next up on the roster: yellow, naturally, but we'll cover a bit of other ground before then, too...

WHAT'S IN A WORD?

I love “eclectic”. Which is to say, I hate “eclectic”…the word, at any rate. The concept of eclectic—namely the canny blending of material, era, style, provenance, colour and scale (to name only a few)—still delights me no end. It is the great melting pot of the design world. But that word—that poor, hackneyed, misused word! In some ways I view it with the same apprehension some senior citizens regard the term ‘gay’; that’s not to say I’m in agreement with them, just that I know what it’s like to mourn a word. Common wisdom dictates if you love something you should set it free, and that’s precisely what I plan on doing with those eight particular letters.

So what do you do when the one term meant to serve one purpose falls down on the job? You consult a thesaurus (“catholic” came up!) and then you improvise. I have substituted “curated” before, as in a curated room versus an eclectic one. At times this has proven to be a serviceable option; at others I choke on the sheer pretentiousness of it. Ask me to give “quirky” a whirl and I may well have a seizure on the spot.

A reasonable person might wonder what exactly happened to eclectic that made me hate it so. The short answer? It got hijacked by bad people. Well, perhaps not bad people but ones who are more often than not tedious and misguided. To be fair, this is an affliction of our modern era—or at least something that has occurred with greater frequency since we all wound up with specialty television channels numbering in the hundreds.

Getting back to my initial point, though, I do love an eccentric assemblage of items that seem not to be driven by reason—or any other governing principle for that matter.  They always are, of course, but not in a way that loudly declares its intent—and they are distinguished by being the refreshing antithesis of matchy-matchy (more on that in another post).

Real artistry is all about the blend, be it pigments in paint, flavours in food, gestures in dance or furniture in a room. With a deft hand the results are marvellous—marvel-worthy for the simple fact that the nuances that make them successful are always more intuitive than identified. Much like old Hollywood sets, no one wants to see—or know about—the brackets propping them; they only care about the magic that is created because of them. Good design can be analysed with a cold eye but the most successful examples don’t invite such scrutiny, just the desire to accept and enjoy what has been wrought.

I find that, these days, eclectic seems to be a catch-all term for thrown-together, which suggests haste and a lack of care. You throw a salad together—you do not treat a space and the objects that dwell within it with such callous indifference. I find this not dissimilar to when you were a child and your parents tossed you into a room with someone else’s horrible children and expected you to play together just because you just happened to be roughly the same age. Ugh. That to me is as forced and wrong-headed as putting a velvet Elvis painting over a Biedermeier chest and declaring it “wacky”. Again: ugh!

A perfect example of the abuse that has so compromised eclectic can be found in the behaviour of a peripheral acquaintance. Her modus operandi is to snap up whatever happens to be on sale, toss it all into a room regardless of suitability, and then rationalize the crime she has perpetrated by saying the look is “eclectic”. I’m not sure how one’s perception moves from bargain basement to eclectic in such circumstances, but there you have it. I am always slightly embarrassed when this ersatz curator invites me to view the results, something akin to the feeling I get when I encounter a sheepish-looking dog who has been dressed up by its owner….

At its noblest, eclecticism is the opposite of “thrown-together”; it’s about careful consideration and intent. Love plays a significant role here, too. The crème of the design world frequently espouse the notion that if you truly love the items you’re working with they will love one another in return. Or, more simply put, just work. True, it might take a bit of fiddling to get these arranged marriages just right but oftentimes that ‘love’ will show itself in line, balance and proportion. Even when such fundamentals are at odds the tension they create offers a refreshing challenge to our perception, not to mention frequent moments of delight.

What I always try to do—and what I think we all strive for in the name of feathering our nests—is create those moments of delight, enduring ones which speak to us on a daily basis and never fail to engage visitors to our homes. Perhaps that is where the compass points us next, not necessarily away from eclectic (still a functional word, to be sure) but more so towards the creation of circumstantial delight. Perhaps all eclectic and I need is a brief cooling off period—a trial separation, if you will, in order to gain perspective on what really matters. After all, what could matter more in these short lives of ours than delight?

SEEING RED

One of the tried-and-true primaries, red is a colour that people either love or hate. I have to admit that I am indifferent to it—at least when it comes to interiors. Make no mistake, I understand the drama of red and the need for red; it’s just that I generally have a ‘meh moment’ whenever I encounter it. 

To be fair, there are many reds I like, but they tend not to be that classic fire engine red that everyone gets so wound up about. I generally prefer the ones that are more bastardized—the skeleton-in-the-closet reds that are just slightly off. You’ll notice a few hues down that I similarly characterize my preference for certain blues and yellows; my need for the primaries to be, well, less primary. It may stem from a bad experience I had with them in pre-school. Or I may just be a terrible person—it’s hard to say. Nonetheless, here are three variations on “black sheep” reds that make this old carcass of mine feel something akin to passion…

Blue-reds: Oddly, despite my aversion to its closest kin, cerise (or cherry, en anglais) ranks among my top five favourite colours. I remember when I was in university a house around the corner from where I lived in Victoria’s Oak Bay had a cerise front door with a diamond-shaped window of amber and blue leaded glass, done in the classic harlequin pattern. Devastating. I was late for class often because I would go out of my way to look at that door—in the fog, in the rain, in full sunshine, in leaf-dappled autumn light. If they ever change the marriage laws to a drastic extent I will propose to—and wed—that door. But I digress. Favourite blue-reds of mine are: Farrow & Ball’s Rectory Red; Venus Envy from C2; and Crushed Velvet and Pomegranate, both from Benjamin Moore. Big box pick: Behr’s Strawberry Daiquiri

 

Red-reds: OK, so there’s a gun to my head and I have to pick three; these are the ones that will save my life: delicious in dining rooms, dignified on front doors and delightful on the inside of closets. Two favourites from Benjamin Moore include Caliente and Vermilion, but let’s not forget Farrow & Ball’s Incarnadine or C2’s devastating, jazzily named Bang. Big box pick: Licorice Stick from Behr.

 

Orange-reds: seriously, if the right orange-red asked “Who’s your daddy?” I would blush hotly and swoon. I adore this colour—and was in seventh heaven when a client of mine (a very traditional doctor, no less) agreed to let me paint her living room/dining room in a hot-cha-cha rendition from C2 called “Mojo”. Needless to say it resulted in quite an enchanting love triangle: me, the good doctor, and Mojo.

Less harsh and more flattering than red-red (which can make you look like you’ve just had bargain dermabrasion if the reflection is just so), this hue offers the most wonderful, healthy glow to all who bask within range. Frontrunners include: C2’s Persimmon and the aforementioned Mojo; Bonaparte and Rustique from Benjamin Moore; and Farrow & Ball’s Blazer, which is as natty as it sounds. Big box pick: Old Glory by CIL.