oooooooo

I want one of these...

Boxes, bags, bundles redux

This picture is incorrectly captioned - the dog is clearly dressed as Breakfast at Tiffany's!

"F***ing hearts!"

At the Independent, Bee Wilson on the eccentricities of Elizabeth Taylor in later life as revealed by William Mann's new biography:

During her marriage to Fisher, she was getting through a pack of cigarettes a day “and never used the same holder”. Her butler had to prepare a special box of holders each day, colour-co-ordinated not just with her outfits but with any tablecloths she might come into contact with. When she and Burton were in Mexico, she flew in the wife of her London chauffeur just to cook them a couple of meals of roast pork. Her hypochondria was stupendous. She once called in sick complaining of a severe injury caused by wearing tight breeches. She consumed jewels as casually as cups of coffee and thought nothing of asking a friend to fly to Switzerland to buy her a house, before summarily calling him back to play cards with her: “Just buy the damn thing so you can get back here and we can play f***ing hearts!”

Bling in dessert form

The cupcake phenomenon (via Bookforum).

Transfigurations

I have to get Martin Stannard's Muriel Spark biography:

Her own bodily transfiguration was less spiritual than Christ’s, but as striking in its way. It was brought about, Stannard tells us, with the aid of manicures, waxes, perms, designer dresses, perfume and jewellery, and the result was a “mythological” being, the personification of glamour. One acquaintance recalls a vision of white fox furs and diamonds shimmering up to him at a party, and realising only later that it was Spark. She had an entourage of young men with whom she liked to be seen. They were never sexual partners, Stannard testifies, but “delightful accessories”, like her Cartier diamond wristwatch, or the Manhattan apartment that she bought but never used, or her racehorse, Lifeboat.

Precious eggs

I am too impatient to save these for an Easter post!

Via Wendy, an insanely sparkly American Egg; via Nico, a truly amazing Scotch Ostrich Egg!

Antlers festooned with gold leaf

For some reason I have been obsessed these last few weeks with the idea of eating a delicious slice of bûche de noël. Chocolate buttercream icing! Obsessed to the point that I have enlisted my friend E. to obtain one from a fancy bakery and bring it to Christmas dinner at my mother's house...

In the Times today, Steven Erlanger and Basil Katz weigh on the Parisian culture of the over-the-top bûche:

Lenôtre actually hires a prominent designer — this year, Hubert de Givenchy — to create a special bûche. Given that St. Hubert is the patron saint of hunters (and of mathematicians, by the way, but of course you knew that), Mr. Givenchy designed a cake with two stag heads at each end, cast in clear sugar like crystal, their antlers festooned with gold leaf like a Buddha and lighted from underneath by two tiny LED lamps that last 12 hours.

The flavor is chocolate, sourced from Tanzania, Ghana and São Tomé and Príncipe, with a hint of Earl Gray tea. And it is swathed in chocolate colored and textured to look like maroon velvet.

There is a golden ribbon of pulled sugar, “like Murano glass,” and, of course, the Givenchy signature on a chocolate plaque. Don’t forget the light dusting of 22-karat gold.

Happy holidays!

"Chippy made me do it"

Penelope Green profiled decorator Keith Irvine for the Times last week (link courtesy of Nico):

Mr. Irvine loves gold-framed convex Regency mirrors, anything with a key pattern, miniature furniture, Oushak rugs “that look like they’re on their last week” and needlepointed mottos on pillows.

He frowned at a wooden bench upholstered in gold lamé. “That’s waterproof gold lamé, not really my thing,” he said. “That was a job that ended in tears.” He added that the client “sent a whole truckload of stuff back, saying, ‘I don’t want it and I’m not paying for it.’ ”

“There used to be ladies and gentlemen,” he said. “Now they have no manners and too much money.”