Lux Lotus

On Parlor Games

Yesterday, my friend Greg Olear's new novel came in the mail. I quite admire him, for many reasons, not least of which is that he gets flown to Paris to discuss "nineties nostalgia" on France 24, which is my definition of celebrity, full-stop. His first novel, Totally Killer, mines the very fertile territory of office noir in that era. I was delighted to receive my copy of Fathermucker, and even more delighted that he had inscribed it, and mysteriously directed me to a page in the back of the book, at the bottom:

Obviously, it stays on my coffee table for life.

On Genius

The term "genius" is overused, but not when it comes to the filmmaker and music video director, Stephen Lance. He lives in Australia, so I hardly ever see him, and to be honest if I wasn't working so much I'd be freaking out that I have to wait two more days to see him. We're having dinner at the Fat Radish on Friday.

On Ports

Today I walked into lunch and I was waiting for my companion and the hostess, who I see almost every day, said, "You know, it always seems like you are, 1930s? Some other year. When you walk in, it's like another time." "Is that right?" I replied, laughing. I may have heard that now and then. I then proceeded to entertain her with the best feature of the local community newspaper, "Arrivals and Departures: Cruise Ships in the Harbor," which lists exactly that, including the name of the ship, when it might come by, and the ultimate destination, if known. Then she told me a bit of gossip from the 1920s that is still shocking! Just something men do; no surprise there, those/you fascinating, complex, utterly predictable creatures. And I got the best possible thing at lunch: a little sack of jewels in one of those velvet pouches from hotels. Here I am modeling one of my favorites. I was so sated I skipped dessert, the "Diamond Waffle" I'd been fantasizing about all day.

Previously: On Sparkle.

On Treasures

I've just done something I've dreamed of doing for years: buy a ticket for the Green Vault, "one of the richest treasure chambers in Europe." I'll be in Germany for work in early October. I'll take the train to Dresden from Berlin for the day (later, Frankfurt).

Previously: Collecting Desire (2004).

On Precision

After decades of airy-fairy, devil-may-care experimenting, driven by creativity and curiosity, my life has now entered the age of precision. I would prefer that everything be pleasing in my vicinity these days: the flowers (multiple vases of white hydrangeas in full bloom this week), the lighting (Ferrowatt bulbs overhead, low wattage in everything else), and the tea, Bellocq's "Little Dickens," "Hindu Holiday," or "Charleston." I spend much of my time a casa, where the common areas of my floor are being refurbished with new wallpaper, carpet and tiles as we speak. Necessary? Sure. There's no place for second-rate in first class.

Previously: On Rhythms, Windowlicker.

My Life in Pictures: Monday, Midday

Lest we forget what Lux Lotus is really about... Wearing: Sol Moscot sunglasses, J. Peterman  "Venice" dress, Dior "Ara Red" lipstick, satin jacket from Sally Cohen Vintage, Jean-Luc Moerman for Longchamp bag, necklace bought from two old ladies with a poodle on a long gravel road in East Marion, $5.

Just had a brilliant lunch at India House Club with Patrick Somerville, featured at the New Yorker today. Read him at once!

On Glow

I've been spending lots of time in my apartment lately, not just because that's where I work, but because I like it. We've discussed my penchant for hotel smells, and hotel lighting, and finally, it's time for action. Friday I had lunch in Williamsburg, and then stopped by Catbird, where I picked up a lasting supply of the store's own "Campfire" candles (dominant notes: woodsmoke, saddle leather, honey). Tonight, I've been looking into Ferrowatt bulbs, which have a fascinating backstory. Also, they make me smile and think of London, during dinner with an architect who insisted I visit a place I was planning to meet a friend at the next day anyway: "You'll like it," he said. "Very New York." "What's that mean?" I asked. "Edison bulbs," he laughed.

On Theories

I was assembling my maquillage this morning when my regard glanced over an unfamiliar object, whose glint caught my eye. I had to lean over, bent at the waist, to peer closer at the mirrored tray on my vanity. What was it? A tiny, glass bottle of "Coco" as it turns out, complete with stopper. Left behind by Miss Bianca, perhaps? My sister may've had a hand in that. She seems to travel by diplomatic pouch, too. Or fairies? Naturally, I don't mind if they use my boudoir, so long as I don't have to dance all night.

On Proust, Again

I filled out Proust's questionnaire almost three years ago to the day, and happened to think of it today, so I did it again as a lark during my mid-afternoon break for a cup of green tea. Here goes:

What is your idea of perfect happiness? Fantasy: leisure + solitude + service. Reality: the enormous pitcher of white hydrangeas on my table.

What is your greatest fear? That I'll never meet anyone like me. 

What historical figure do you most identify with? Eleanor of Aquitaine. She was both a woman of her time, and the world.

Which living person do you most admire? You.

What is the trait you most deplore in yourself? Holding other people to my own standards has often led to disappointment.

What is the trait you most despise in others? Without question, cheapness, for its own sake, is a spiritual poverty of the mind.

What is your greatest extravagance? 1. I haven't taken the subway in at least six months. 2. I'm now fond of wearing exquisite heels.

On what occasion do you lie? Never. It's a waste of time.

What do you dislike most about your appearance? What would be the point of that?

Which living person do you most despise? Again...

Which words or phrases do you most overuse? "Perfect."

If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be? I would be less appalled by the ordinary.

If you could change one thing about your family, what would it be? I have no desire to change other people.

What do you consider your greatest achievement? Freedom.

If you could choose what to come back as, what would it be? A wonderful little amuse-bouche, admired and gone in one bite.

Who are your favorite writers? The ones who I work with.

Who is your favorite hero of fiction? Marcella Maine (The Second Chance).

What is your most treasured possession? A painting of Venice that I carried across the Atlantic.

What do you regard as the lowest depth of misery? Settling, because one is afraid to risk more. Not pursuing a dream.

Where would you like to live? Mayfair.

What is your most marked characteristic? A classical face.

What is the quality you most like in a man? Extravagant generosity, like mine. Intellect. Drive. Elegance. Good manners.

What is your greatest regret? Thus far, a life of toil.

What or who is the greatest love of your life? I haven't met him yet. 

If there is a Heaven what would you like to hear God say when you arrive? Come and get your diamond wings.

Please leave your own answers below. I would like to read them.

What to Wear to the Lowell?

Later this afternoon, an appointment for tea in the Pembroke Room, and then back downtown, and straight to last night's party.