Lux Lotus

Windowlicker

I swanned about in this headdress the last time I was at the shop. Lately I've been staying up until 3 a.m. because this is turning out to be one of those months that is so busy that the quietude of middle night is the only time that I can relax without expecting a dozen new urgent emails every time I look up. It recalls the brilliant advice I was once given, life-changing, in fact, concerning the impulse to put your whole heart in everything you do. Resist. Rather, be a better actor. Sarah Bernhardt, leading actress of her day, reminds us of the crucial value of perspective and priorities: Life is short, even for those who live a long time, and we must live for the few who know and appreciate us, who judge and absolve us, and for whom we have the same affection and indulgence. The rest I look upon as a mere crowd, lively or sad, loyal or corrupt, from whom there is nothing to be expected but fleeting emotions, either pleasant or unpleasant, which leave no trace behind them. We ought to hate very rarely, as it is too fatiguing; remain indifferent to a great deal, forgive often and never forget.

[Rare peacock theatrical headdress, c. 1900, $2850 at Estate Jewels]

Windowlicker is from the French for browsing: faire du lèche-vitrine.

Windowlicker

As utterly wonderful as table lighters (mind you, I don't smoke).

Semi-related: "Elephant Polo vs Polo on Horse Back... Surprisingly, the game is faster than one would expect..."

[1930s porcelain elephant cigarette holder, $225 via Etsy]

Windowlicker is from the French for browsing: faire du lèche-vitrine.

Twelve Resolutions for 2012

1. Write letters, and mail them. 

2. Call when a text would do.

3. Cook dinner every night, and invite friends.

4. Read more poetry.

5. See more theater.

6. See more horseraces.

7. See more art exhibitions.

8. Spend more time in the country.

9. Spend more time walking by the river, and the waterfront.

10. Say no, more firmly, to the wrong things.

11. Say yes, more quickly, to the right ones.

12. Love.

On Assurance

I've been reading two books at once over the holiday break: High Financier, a biography of Siegmund Warburg, and More Was Lost, the memoir of Eleanor Perenyi's wartime marriage to an Eastern European minor aristocrat, crumbling manor and all. Warburg is forced to leave his native Germany by the collapse of the Weimar Republic and the rise of Hitler, and Perenyi chooses to flee the Kafka-esque scenario unfolding on the edge of the Iron Curtain as it sweeps down. In both books, much correspondence is exchanged on the subject of when to leave. Ancient systems of order and society were undone in a matter of months and years, and modernization hastened the demise of old customs as war annihilated the rest. Reliable information was extremely scarce. Describing a period of exile at the Ritz, Perenyi recalls, "It was a world where a Frenchman said to me, 'There will be no attack till spring. The mistresses of the Ministers have come back to Paris.'"

On Palimpsests

Last night I started reading Gore Vidal's memoir, Palimpsest. We grew up on opposite banks of the Potomac River and I enjoy his descriptions of the Washington of his childhood, much like the one my father describes ("a sleepy Southern town, really") when he arrived in 1963, and in certain ways, very much the one that I remember. Like all good memoirs, Vidal's seems to describe a defined era, the prime of his own life ("We walked–– cruised–– a lot in the golden age.") which is peopled by innumerable legends and infamous figures. While it can be rather cruel, for two-thirds of every page, the rest is fresh, funny and bracingly honest, and like nothing else. I met him once, years ago, and I am glad for it. 

On Career Paths

"After writing a play that enjoyed a small succcess, Denon became a favorite of Louis XV, who in 1769 put him in charge of Madame de Pompadour’s gemstone collection." Well done, Vivant Denon.

On the Week-end

Not much to report, with work slowing down and '11 finishing up, and daylight slipping away mid-afternoon, and winter, all soft light, drawn drapes, sumptuous materials, cozy covers, big books, hearty feasts and intimate dinners, fast becoming my favorite season of all. I ease into the slowness of it, and let the possibilities for expansion rise and unfurl at their own pace, as in the wonder of smoke rings. Or, more succinctly, while walking to church this morning, 'Remind me to put the tweed in my coat.'

On Pairings

One gin & tonic + one online search for "How to Call England." It's 2:30, and nice to hear my voice, and when am I coming back?

On Priorities

Such a hectic morning, I didn't have time to make myself the mimosa with Moët I would have preferred, or more seriously ponder the 19th Century Portuguese desk I've got my eye on. The profile of Dries Van Noten in the Wall Street Journal is a welcome inspiration: "It's a busy job, what we have here," Van Noten admits. "But we try to enjoy all three—fashion, house and garden—every day."

Related, from the archives: Letter From Antwerp (2005).

On Company

Pleased to have stepped away and put on my plaid taffeta dress and gone to a Scotch tasting at my club, and one charming thing about men who are wearing jackets and ties is that they ask you if you're cold; not at all, and I have got a fur in the coatcheck. Ginger snaps, plenty of various insider conversations that I enjoy, and then I strolled back across Hanover Square in the crisp air and nearly everyone else went home to their towns in Connecticut.