Each successive interior you've posted has become more empty and bleached out, CT.

I'm waiting for the inside of an art gallery with a Malevich exhibition on with a near-invisible crystal-white chaise longue in the corner next.

How can you be so negative about such beauty?

It's not negativity, merely an observation, dear girl.

I miss my living room being all white. Due to a flood I had it changed thanks to insurance. I sat down with this guy and discussed the charts with him - barely there, is it pink or is it just a stunning sunset out there? That was the shade we agreed on. 

Two days later I walked in to find the walls were the exact shade of pink battenburg sponge. I've been trying to love it. It's quite dark. People used to say my living room looked like a magazine - they'd gasp, immediately take their shoes off, tell me they were terrified to eat or drink. I really regret having it changed.

See...

Gorgeous!

That looks like a classroom.

Starting to fill up again...

Nightjar wrote:

Starting to fill up again...

Moved by the gorgeousness? It brings a tear to my own eye too. I always have a fag of tribute across from Jackie's place when in New York. It's what she'd have wanted. If I could live anywhere on earth, I'd have her old flat at 1040. But without the horse paintings.

cosmictanya wrote:

Oh wow. Absolutely love these. Gorge.

Also, Hi Tanya

The top one you quoted there is Charleston in Sussex - open to the public. I think it's my favourite country interior. I also love the red one you quoted - I've flirted with red in my own flat. It's actually my least favourite colour, but I think it's the way people use it rather than red itself that's to blame. I do think you need a large light space for it. I had a sideboard painted red, which my uncle said was chinoiserie overload with my oriental silk tapestry behind it (it's a largely peasant scene of rural Chinese life, centuries past), and the dishes and lamp bases I was using in that part of the room. 

I bought that tapestry at auction in 1996 and it's followed me everywhere since. No matter where I've gone under what circumstances, that comes with. It's been down a fire escape when I was moonlight flitting with a couple of Libyan enforcers at the door, airline staff have argued with airport security as to whether the hold can be kept open for it, a fight with a long ago ex bf resulted in the silk nearly being torn by shattering glass - you name it. It's even survived a halls of residence - not for me Athena posters of Che or Bob Marley or Hendrix. I prefer to smoke purple haze, not deface my walls with bad art suggesting an affinity. I had Julian Casablancas and Diana's Vanity Fair shoot on my hall of residence wall.

I've had a picturesque silk section removed and framed. I think it looks rather smart and my uncle agreed to the extent he asked for another piece, which is now framed in his library. It seemed a nice 70th birthday gift. He comes round here uninvited and makes scathing remarks that are actually quite helpful in mitigating against my tendency to what he terms 'Golders Green rococo'.  

I did take his criticism on board and had the sideboard spraypainted neon yellow and then graffitied in multicolored obscenities by a kid who was a care leaving client of my brothers. It was hard to live with. It's now white again.

Hello to you too. What you up to? X