I did a walkabout at the ICFF yesterday. As usual, I didn’t leave myself enough nearly enough time to take a leisurely stroll through the aisles. But, even at an accelerated pace, certain booths stood out far more than others. Oddly enough, this go around I ended up being most drawn to the textiles and rugs. Don’t get me wrong, there were plenty of other designs, and designers, that caught my attention. Alicia Adams Alpaca, by virtue of her color palette alone, was enough to stop me in my tracks. After looking at their site, I think it might be time for a little road trip.
I can’t remember how old I was when my mother gave me this pincushion. I figure maybe 5, at the outside. I never really thought much about it, until the other day when I decided to do a bit of sewing. It caught me totally off guard. It’s probably one of the most familiar objects in my household. It is regularly put into service. As such, I hadn’t realized how much I take this stuffed faux strawberry for granted. It’s been with me almost my entire life. Same pins. Same goofy shape. Same floppy little berry tassel. Same faded yellow “Made in China” tag. Lots of pleasure in the familiar.
On another note, as a means of explaining my absence these past weeks: I have been spending a lot of time in the country. Unfortunately, the trade off for the fresh air and birds, is super duper crappy internet service. What ever happened to the Rural Broadband Initiative? We are working on a solution. In the meantime, I will try and be more consistent about posting.
My affair with enamelware is well documented here. It is indestructible and wears the patina of age with both grace and quirkiness. The perforated spoon is my go-to utensil for poached eggs, which I eat quite often. Something about using it makes me happy and reinforces the pleasure of the cooking ritual. The best tools possess this quality. The middle image, of the two-armed octopi, are of some very old enamel hooks. One sunny morning, during my recent trip to Nice, I met my friend Kate (a dear friend from college who now lives full time in France) at the flea market. After I showed some hesitation at the price quoted by the dealer, Kate swooped in before I could stop her, and bought them as a gift. Thank you!! The sunny biscuit tins represent my hope for Spring. I could not resist their call. Plus, I needed a few little storage boxes.
For those of you who have been reading my blog for awhile, these to do lists won’t come as any surprise. I just came back from a short family visit in France, and my brother handed me these pages…the latest installment to his growing oeuvre. However, for those of you who are new to Mrs. Easton, please don’t worry. He’s fine. Maybe a little busy. He and his partner run an unusual luxury travel business. Apparently, the devil truly is in the details. For the entire collection so far, go here.
How many caps does a single household possess? As a partial answer to that question, I did a quick sweep of our apt, and the above inventory is what I found. I barely touched the fridge, my art supplies or the spice cupboard. Didn’t even open the liquor cabinet. And I excluded most duplicates. Total number of caps: 98. Fascinated by the notion of an industry which is built upon the production of a single item in all of its iterations.
For some it’s shoes. For others it’s bags. While I have an affinity for both, my real weakness is the label. Plain and simple. Always has been. Always will be. See here. My friend Craig gave me this roll that she found in her parents’ home. She knows me well. And yes, Craig is a woman.
This is the best I could do for today. Not a bad day to be inside blowing one’s nose. Off to make some tea.
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