Friday, April 4, 2014

    Spring Thoughts
 So nice to see the sun shining and the bulbs popping and the grass turning green.  Springtime makes all things seem possible. And although the weather makes me want to go outside, it also makes me what to clean out what's inside.  Pare down, polish, scrub, put away the knickknacks, the tchotchkes, and count the days until I can throw the plants out for summer.  This is when decorating is not about more but about less.  Sometimes this is called minimalism which is just a big word for putting all your stuff away so you can actually see your furniture.  You don't need a lot of furniture but what you have should be not only functional but also design friendly...
     First on my list in any home is the dining room or kitchen table,
whichever is the one you live your life on.  Counters and islands can, but mostly don't, cut it.  You need a table to spread out and read the paper, check the homework, do projects, and of course, serve meals on.  This is where a family learns to be a family...
     It has to be all solid wood.  A proper table is never rickety and never, ever wobbles.  It has to have some character and you cannot be afraid to give it more.  Life has to happen.  The burn mark when the cat tipped over the candle, the shadow left from a melted pumpkin, the scrapes, the scuffs, the wear, the tear.  Your table should be able to stand the heat or get that baby out of your kitchen.  
     We were a family of eight growing up and our kitchen table was a hunk of pine with picnic table style legs that nestled  into a nook in front of our kitchen window.   It was a tight fit but we learned to keep our elbows in and chew with our mouths shut mostly because our mother was close enough to reach out and whack the miscreant.
     That table served us for years.  Besides all those countless meals, it is where I learned how to knead bread, make pie crust, write and rewrite reports.  Many  rainy days worth of cards and board games were played there, and eventually it became the late night gathering spot, the place to meet up with siblings and friends for some chat and probably a few more beers.  I don't know who started it but it became a tradition to carve our initials into the table's pliant wood.  We literally loved it to death.  Everyone  should have a kitchen table like that.
     If I still had that table today I would scrub it first with a little 000 steel wool and some turpentine.  Let it dry;  and then sand it very, very lightly with a fine sandpaper.  Using a tack cloth I'd pick up all the dust then I would apply a tinted paste wax, Briwax, or Keith is fond of Fiddes Wax, and then polish it with a soft cloth. All I would need to add would be some friends--and maybe a few beers. That would be Spring cleaning at its finest.

Wednesday, February 5, 2014

January 2014

January 2014
Yesterday I got a call from someone looking for a Lazyboy recliner with an electric motor--I suggested he go to a Lazyboy store but evidently the closest one was in Newark and that was too far.  And no way was he ordering one online; he needed to test drive that bad boy. 
Ten years ago I wouldn't even dream of suggesting an internet furniture purchase; nowadays it seems to be the norm.  At least once a month we ship a significant piece of furniture to someone in another state who has discovered us online.  I always hold my breath a little when we do it because we are far more used to customers like Mr. Lazyboy who not only want to see, but also to feel exactly what they are getting. 
And that is why I put so many pictures of the furniture actually in our store on our website.  This isn't PB or RH with professional stylists airbrushing objects for mass-mailed catalogues, this is Tricia with her seven year old digital camera taking the shots, and no airbrushing.  I really want you to see the warts metaphorical or not;       I want what you see, to be what you get.
But. There is a but.  But what you get does to a certain degree depend on you.  In the good old days when we only sold antiques people would come in and say they loved everything but they lived in a contemporary home so antiques were out of the question.  Not true.  Take almost any antique, even Victorian, and give it a bare white wall of its own and it will look like a million dollars.  Try to put a large armoire or sideboard in an older home and it won't be so easy.  Radiators, fireplaces, windows, and multiple doorways limit wallspace in older homes making furniture placement a challenge. And making sure all that furniture blends harmoniously can be impossible. Is it eclectic or is it just a big mess?
Also, besides physically putting furniture in a room there has to be something else going on.  My son jokes with me saying that a house is decorated once the flatscreen and couch are in position.  Sadly, although that appears to be the case in many homes we visit these days, simply  putting an enormous television on a wall is not decorating.
A home needs decoration. The greatest outfit won't work if your shoes are wrong.  Accessories are clearly game changers.  So is color, pattern, texture and structure.  Decorating is about the whole package.  A great pair of lamps, a lovely piece of art or a decorative mirror can transform a just okay sideboard into a beautiful statement piece.
Whether you shop online or the old fashioned way, there still is work for you to do when your furniture comes home.  Try rearranging your room, toss or donate things you don't use any more, clear out the clutter.  If you haven't painted the walls in a while--go for it. Not sure how to accessorize, try putting things in groups.  By color, by size, by function.  Keith once bought a lovely collection of early 20th century polished brass blow torches--brilliant. The hardest thing maybe to rethink the positioning of family photos. But that proably merits another post...

Thursday, November 7, 2013

November 2013

     I am so glad it is finally, finally fall.  

     Because last year there wasn't any fall.  After Sandy there was only darkness.
No Halloween, no raking leaves, no treats, just tricks.
Last fall was like living an episode of Survivor.  Searching for gas, trying to 
find food in barely lit grocery stores only selling withered vegetables, rotting 
fruit and a few canned goods because there is no meat, no dairy, no frozen
food when the power goes out and stays out.

     We were living on the river then and we watched the water as it came within
inches of our doorstep.  Happily our elevation was several feet higher that we
thought.  Most of our neighbors were not as lucky and when the power finally
came back on only a handful of us were left.  So we stayed in the dark for the
rest of the year and were well into the next before many other lights joined ours.

     In a way it seems kind of foggy to me now.  In May we moved.  Not because
of the storm but in spite of it...The kids are big, the dogs are in heaven and if we
are ever going to explore this great big world, now is the time. Even though I
was always puzzled when people would come into the store and say they had
downsized.   Who would not want four or five bedrooms, a formal dining
room, a living room and a family room to decorate and a four season garden to
plant and replant year after year?

     But I get it now.  Living in Red Bank, in town, with only two bedrooms and no
yard to speak of means visits to the pubs, evenings at the theaters, a surprising
variety of dining options and walks everywhere--to the gym, the library, the dentist,
the shops, hair dressers and of course--for coffee.  It also means trips.  Since May
we've been to England, Maine, North Carolina, Washington State, and Houston,

     And in terms of decorating we've been forced to focus on quality rather than quantity.
When we first moved our daughter said we looked like hoarders but gradually--letting
go is not easy--we are winnowing away at our collections.  Owning British Cottage has
been fabulous because almost anything can come under the British Cottage umbrella:
white ironstone, brass candlesticks--actually brass anything--blue and white china, painted
furniture from anywhere, screens, prints, portraits, water colors, garden ornaments, garden
furniture, antique clocks, Staffordshire dogs, platters, figures and actually anything remotely
vintage in an animal shape. 

     Naturally, over the years,  a fair amount of this stuff found its way into our home.

     So how are we managing without five grandfather clocks?  We kept two and the other
three are for sale in the store.  They are out there for all of us to enjoy and they add quite a
bit of ambiance to the shop.  They just look the part.  There was a time when the first thing
a decorator would encourage a client to buy was one of our English or Scandinavian painted
clocks.  Those gals, long deceased, knew what they were doing.  A cool clock is decorative,
adds that little bit of architecture and charm that makes an ordinary room more special.

     Today people seem to panic when it comes to decorating when really it has never been
easier.  Comfy sofas with slipcovers that can be washed,  wood shutters in lieu of over-
the-top window treatments, seagrass area rugs instead of wall to wall carpets help make
decorating a breeze.  But you still need ambiance.  Add an antique credenza, a painted armoire,
a rustic coffee table or possibly a grandfather clock and then you';re cooking.

     So let's all enjoy this glorious weather, this bracing air, the fabulous sunsets, the autumn
moons.  Shop at British Cottage for the workhorses: the couches and chairs, the kitchen and dining
room tables and cupboards that will last through to the next generation.  And hopefully we'll also be
able to help you locate that signature piece, that special item that makes your home unique.

Wednesday, February 6, 2013

After Sandy, Rebuilding, One House at a Time

     In retail it is not uncommon to work seven days a week.  Although my son would argue that walking around schmoozing all day is hardly work and mostly I would agree with him; but it is hard to focus on paperwork or blogging if you are always stopping to help someone with something.  That is a long winded way of saying I am now staying home one day a week with the intention of actually finishing a blog and getting to work on less pleasant things like our taxes.  So I met with the accountant this morning and am now at the laptop voila; let's see how long this lasts.  
    The store has been very busy this last couple of weeks which is unusal for this time of year. The reason why is that possibly 25% of our customers were physically impacted by Hurricane Sandy.  Trees through roofs, sailboats through windows, and water and sand everywhere.  The rebuilding process has been torturous, insurance claims not paid, uncertainty over how or what to build, finding contractors...
     Horrible, horrible but we are finally, three months after the storm, seeing some real positive efforts and just yesterday Keith and I visited two completely different syle homes in our town of Rumson that are well on their way to looking fabulous.  The first is a coastal cottage/carriage house in our Westpark neighborhood that had several feet of water wash through it.  Open plan to begin with the owners opened it up even more, taking the opportunity when the walls were down to the studs to install a steel support beam so an annoying column separating the dining and cooking area would disappear.  Hopefully they'll let me take some photos because the house layout is so interesting, especially a beguiling banquette in the center of the house on a raised platform so whoever is sitting at the table has a bird's eye view of the whole downstairs.   Very cool and proof that you don't need to have a huge house to live large.
     The other house we went to see was also flooded by Sandy.  Much larger, prior to the storm it was a classic suburban faux mini mansion/colonial with an attached garage that was probably the cat's meow when it was built in the late sixties (I am inferring here) that definitely had seen better days.  With the renovations nearly done, the transformation post Sandy is amazing.  New and larger windows and a few widened walls have created a spacious family room and kitchen and eating area.  But no formal dining room space. Wide planked limed oak floors bounce with light and there is still plenty of room downstairs for a grown up living room and a kid's playroom.  (Children who grow up by the sea tend not to have basements to play in; nor do the grown ups so a winterized sunporch has been adapted as office space/media room for the adults.)
     The walls are white; most of the upholstered furniture is off white linen.  And the wood furniture is of the rustic, weathered antique pine variety (mostly items we sold the owner's mother over 20 years ago so clearly we are prejudiced) that looks totally au courant in such a sleek, almost modern interior.  One of the former owners was a local antique dealer and the one memory I have of the house is of a stilted, colonial aesthetic--this is anything but. 
   Hopefully we'll get pictures of this one too.  And the owner has a 4' carved wooden Buddha from a former life that isn't part of his decorating scheme so if you know anyone who is remodeling their yoga studio give me a call.  No Zen garden here, but still the house has a lovely, tranquil feeling.  Namaste.

Tuesday, November 13, 2012

Post Sandy--Time to make lemonade out of lemons

It's been so long since my last blog the format has changed. Bear with me on this; it's also been also been a long couple of months. We live in New Jersey on the Shrewsbury River directly opposite a sand spit of a town called Sea Bright. When in late October we heard a hurricane was coming up the coast on a full moon and a high tide we knew it could be bad.  And it was.   
So shit happens. So now what happens? We move on. So here are my thoughts about what to do when an unexpected chance to remodel is thrust upon you.  Don't just go out and recreate what you had.  Take the opportunity while you wait for the insurance money, and then for the contracter to show up to rethink your home, your lifestyle and your priorites.  Here's what I think about decorating in the 21st century.  
Less color is clearly more. Go to the Scandanivian blogs. White walls, white interiors, then your furniture pale or not takes center stage.  I love jewel tones--on jewelry.  Use your brights as accents--not center stage.  Particularly when your home is coastal a muted palate can be key.  My walls are the palest grey which reads as white on a sunny day, but more blue when the fog rolls in or the lights go down.
Less formality.  One of my flooded neighbors is removing walls from his here-to-fore extremely formal dining room in his traditional shore colonial and making a great room open to the kitchen.  When he and the wife entertain they don't have their adult friends over for sitdown dinners for 12 but instead frequently host enormous impromtu family gatherings including everyone from infants to grands.  Now they will have the space to accommodate everyone.  The faux Chippendale dining table?  Gone.  Instead they are having a 10' long farm table with a mixed assortment of chairs and benches; at this table there will always be room for one more.

When we opened British Cottage on the westside of Red Bank a shocking (for us) 27 years ago--we only sold antique English pine--that was the yuppie era and we thought we would clean up selling furniture to 30-somethings.  Which never happened...instead we sold container loads to their parents who couldn't wait to dump their high maintenance, french polished, darkwood dining room sets on their off-spring and purchase user friendly farmhouse tables and hutches from us.  Now is the chance to go one better and get rid of the dining room entirely.

Or rethink the dining space.  Let's say you have the kind of house with a large living room, an even larger family room at the back and a pocket size dining room.  Maybe it makes sense to switch the dining room and living rooms around.  Everyone is living in the great room anyway and the new dining space becomes large enough to host a crowd.  (A bonus here is there is often a fireplace that becomes a lovely feature in a dining room.)  Then the former dining room becomes a small office, den, library and/or parlor--  perfect for paying bills, reading a book away from the great room football watching gang, or enjoying an afternoon cup of tea.

But we need to move on. Ok.  Next thing. More hardwood floors.  But not the engineered kind.  The price difference is negligible and actually the real thing wears better--trust me on this--particularly if you have dogs.  Color is up to you.  Dark is dramatic but you will be married to your swifter. 

I've been buying the cheapest grade red or white oak flooring from Beaton Brothers in Lakewood for the last 27 years. (Full disclosure my maiden name is Beaton, no relation, but I like to think I am getting the family price.)  It is 2" or 3" wide and I never stain it just put on two coats (or more) of high gloss poly and finish up with a matte (always oil base--do not waste your money on water base polys--they do not hold up).

In our house we have put hardwood in kitchens and bathrooms and never been sorry.  It always goes with everything else, feels easy on the feet and never goes out of style.  And it helps that I am one of those people who believes worn in looks better than brand new so wear and tear for me is part of the charm.  The older the floors the better they can look.

My final observation--and this is a big one considering my bread and butter is retail--is that less is more.  Before the flood Keith and I schlepped a large amount of our worldly goods upstairs.  And I have been slow to put them back...I like the way the house looks without so much stuff.  So for those of you who flooded and were forced to part with many of your possessions, now is the chance to not take that load back on. 

What do you really need?  Let's lose the mentality that is is ok to buy something cheap because the kids will wreck it and you will replace it later.  Ikea, Pottery Barn, that stuff is not cheap and it will not last.  I've had customers on the water for years and more times than not they have salvaged British Cottage furniture after it has been flooded.  Why?  It is solid wood.  It can be cleaned and dried and repolished.  However veneer over plywood, which is the hallmark of inexpensive furniture, lifts and shrinks and the plywood becomes a breeding ground for mold.

Look for a couch with a hardwood frame.  Often cheap couches have an interior made of pressed cardboard that does not last. 
The couches we sell are made in the United States and the frames come with a lifetime warranty.  Do you throw our couches away when they are worn?  No, you just get a new slipcover and move on to the next decorating project. 

Once I was asked to go to someone's house to offer suggestions for organizing an 8 year old daughter's bedroom.  When I saw she had at least 40 pairs of shoes I knew the task was beyond me.  No kid needs so much stuff; she didn't need a new armoire she needed her mom to stop shopping.   Save your pennies for things that count.  

So hopefully you can take those lemons, the inconvenience, the frustration that comes with a natural disaster, thank your lucky stars that you and your loved ones are okay, make some lemonade and start reading those decorating blogs and think about making your home more user friendly.  If this was a 200 year storm you won't get another chance for a while.  

Wednesday, September 5, 2012

Moving into the 21st Century

While on vacation this week in Maine, my son and daughter-in-law have moved me forward into the social networking era. I've updated our Facebook page, created a Pinterest page and linked everything together! Be sure to Like or Follow me on Blogger, Facebook and Pinterest!

Follow Me on Pinterest

Saturday, July 14, 2012

Class of 1972

         Trying to get back into work mode after a weekend of festivities--many of them instigated by me--related to my 40th high school reunion.  Probably the last time I had so many friends over my parents were away picking up my brother at college and I watched aghast as the living room floor swayed under the weight of it all.  
      Thinking about my old friends it is amazing how much I remember about their interiors.  Our house was kid central; we had 6 and at any time there were at least 6 more in the house.  Money  was tight so we were DIY long before it was fashionable.  Along with our mother we ripped up carpets, sanded and waxed aged oak floors, pealed off wallpaper and painted anything we could find.  Most of my friends were better heeled and I was amazed at what I saw at their homes.  
      Perhaps the most dramatically different was M's.  Her home was contemporary--probably modern would be the better term. There were three different levels, large picture windows with floor to ceiling Venetian blinds and the furniture was--I'm pretty sure although it sounds dreadful--white may have been leather but I don't think so.  Anything wood was Danish modern.  The floors were all tiled and I swear there was a white shag carpet in the living room.  An only child M. had her own bedroom--never happening at my house in a million years--and the beds and all the furniture were white formica with matching bedspreads made out of the same material as the curtains.  Not a hand-me-down (or much real wood) anywhere.  I loved it! 
     Then there was L.  Her Dad was a successful Madman kind of guy and in the late 60's built a beautiful center hall colonial on a large waterfront lot.  They had the first "family room" I can remember; a room  built expressly for watching television.  Most people just plunked a console unit in the center of the living room or jammed a set into a bookcase in the den.  Not L's family.  This room had overstuffed upholstered furniture in a variety of fabrics that coordinated with the hunter green and red plaid wall to wall carpet.  I loved it!
     I probably ate over there a million times and never once set foot in the formal dining room.  For that matter I'm pretty sure I never went into the living room either.  And even though there were four children in the family she had her own room with curtains that matched the bedspread and wall to wall carpeting.  I loved it!
     Then there was A.  Her family lived on Park Ave in the city and summered at the Jersey shore (back when the words Jersey shore had a certain cachet).  Her house was the most like ours, with mismatched furniture in a variety of styles--the only difference was theirs were period antiques and ours were hand-me-downs.  The floors were exposed hardwood layered with heirloom oriental carpets, the walls white, and the couches a dazzling array of bright chintz that matched the curtains that swagged under upholstered valances, all in colors my mother would never have mixed in a million years.  I loved it.
     Our house was a seashore colonial built in the early nineteen hundreds as a summer home.  Set twenty feet from the Shrewsbury River it was a child's paradise from day one.  The living room had a bay window with a stained glass sailing ship set in the center.  There was a massive peanut stone fireplace and back to back bookcases separating the dining and living rooms.  And wrapping around the the house were a series of porches, some closed in and some screened. We were all big readers and everywhere there was always a comfy couch or a chair with a child with a nose in a book. We never had air-conditioning; there was always someplace in that house with a breeze.
     When we finally tore up the ancient wool carpeting we discovered fabulous oak floors that after a serious application of elbow grease--actually we used to skate around the rooms with rags on our feet merrily buffing away--were gorgeous.  Then off came the old wallpaper (patterned wallpaper, patterned carpeting it was just bad) and we painted all the walls a light, light green called celery.  Because the house faced the river we didn't bother with curtains or blinds downstairs.
     The pine trestle table in the kitchen could seat 8 tight.  Any more (which was more often then not) and we ate in the dining room at a table my mother bought in a local antique store.  Victorian, it had a massive round oak pedestal table and two or three misshapen leaves we would jam in for holidays.  There was no way it matched the Stickley cherry hutch, an expensive, unauthorized purchase by my father that my mother never really forgave.  Chairs were a challenge, always breaking, always mismatched until we discovered a local thrift store where vintage pressed oak side chairs could be had for a song. 
     To be honest, I didn't always love it.  I hated sharing a room with my sister, although our bedroom had its own dressing room that led to a huge bathroom and a large tub that I can remember soaking in for hours.  Even though my mother sewed the curtains for our bedroom so they coordinated with our bedspreads I wasn't that thrilled; not until much later when I learned our spreads were one-of-a-kind twin wedding ring quilts hand-stitched by an ancient aunt.
     In the winter the porches were closed off (there was no heat in the television room)  and the TV would migrate upstairs to my parents' bedroom where you always had to fight to get a seat on their bed.  At some point when we were teenagers with lots of friends over of both sexes my puritan mother capitulated and unhappily allowed the television set into the living room--no hanky panky was going to go on there--not in our busy house!  
     But even if we didn't have a television room, we had a kitchen table.  And it was there you could find my mother, reading the paper, making dinner, always busy but never too busy to talk to a child or a neighboring teen.  This was the heart of our house.  When we were older we'd sit around with friends until late at night drinking beer, playing cards and--I don't know when it started--carving our names and our thoughts into that scrubbed pine table.  I loved it and so did all my friends, many of whom were here this weekend, forty years later.