Wednesday, February 6, 2013


Lately I've been consumed with the color blue.
My cerulean compulsion may be inspired by the Montana sky.

Or it could be prompted
by the vision of a
cowboy in Wranglers.

Whatever the reason, 
I've suddenly decided that I adore the color blue... once again. 

You see it's not the first time.
As a young boy
my favorite color was blue.
I grew up surrounded by it.
Slept in an azure room.
Dined on blue onion Meisen.
Wore a blue velvet Eton suit.
Traveled in a blue Ford.
And finally,
watched Mother dress for
dinner in her room that was
covered in this toile de jouy.

My initial azure addiction hit it's crescendo in the eighties. My first major furniture purchase was a pale blue damask camel back at WJ Sloane. Remember... Reagan was in the White House!

Slowly my affection for this
cool tone faded away with
Donna Summer and several
Republican administrations.
And hence, for many years
I rejected any cerulean tone
beyond the random oxford.
For whatever reason
the color blue 
just felt totally "wrong".
Then I met turquoise.

It all started with a beautiful Peking Glass dish that Frank gave me. It glowed, beckoned, wooed me back to the blue side.
Slowly bits of blue crept into our world.  Frank collected blue and white porcelain. Mother gave us a grouping of Spode transfer ware plates.
Frank further fueled the beast by giving me this venetian pillow from Sue Fisher King, my favorite shop in San Francisco. When we furnished Dallas,
I indulged my rediscovered passion for the cool hue with touches of turquoise tones.

As we start work on decorating
our new Lewistown abode,
I definitely have a really
bad case of the blues.
Who knows? You may enter
in a Robins Egg stair hall.
Or discover a pale blue ceiling
above our crisp, white kitchen.
What I do know is that there
will be touches throughout
of my new "favorite" color.

Somehow blue 
just feels right... again.

Yves Saint Laurent - 1962