Truly Beautiful Book Covers...

Sandy Cull is one of my favourite book designers. I first noticed this Melbourne-based freelancer when she designed Carla Coulson's gorgeous book Italian Joy, which was, literally and aesthetically, a book of sheer joy. Since then, I've started noticing that some of my favourite book covers are Sandy Cull ones. I thought I'd share a few of them with you here, along with some other beautiful covers I've noticed recently. (Yes, the top image does seem to be a real cover. Witty, isn't it?)

While we're chatting about books, designs and covers, I would like to wish everyone who has a book up for an award in either the Australian Book Industry Awards (ABIAs, also known as the ‘Academy Awards’ for books), or the Annual Book Design Awards, all the very best of luck. Winners in both competitions are being announced this week as part of the Sydney Writer's Festival. The ABIAs are being announced at a gala dinner at the Ivy Room in Sydney on Friday May 18, and the Book Design Awards at the Powerhouse Museum on Thursday May 17. My little book Paris: A Guide To The City's Creative Heart, is nominated for 'Illustrated Book of the Year 2012' in both competitions, which is a very great honour indeed. I'm very touched to be considered, but all the congratulations must go to the hard-working editors at Plum and the designer Michelle Mackintosh. My photos were only a very small part of the overall design.

So here, in tribute to the talented book designers out there, including Michelle Mackintosh and Sandy Cull, are some of the prettiest book covers floating around in the market at the moment. If, as they say, you can tell a book by its cover, then these look like being beautiful reads, indeed.

Floor Plan Porn, Part 2: The Sherry Netherland

Floor plan porn seems to be a popular post on this blog. Now I don't know whether it's the floor plan part that's attracting all the hits, or the 'porn'? (But if it's the latter, shame on you! The only wickedness around here was the post on The Queen.) Whatever it is, it's prompted me to do another post about the, er, voyeuristic appeal of good lines and a great layout. So to speak.

Today, we're going to peek our noses into one of my favourite New York buildings, the Sherry Netherland. The Sherry, if you're not familiar with it, is that fabulously grand, chateau-style building on the corner of Fifth Avenue and Central Park, opposite The Plaza. Its neighbour, The Pierre, tends to gets more attention (its penthouse was once owned by Lady Mary Fairfax, the Australian wife of the newspaper proprietor), but I think the Sherry is far more interesting. Current and past residents include Diana Ross, Barbra Streisand, Francis Ford Coppola, George Burns and Jack Warner. And you just know they wouldn't live anywhere boring.

The hotel's architect is recognisable for its high-peaked roof topped with an elaborate Gothic minaret, or fleche – a roofline that distinguishes the building as one of the most well-known in New York. The spire top houses the water tank and even has an observation balcony. If you wish to stay there – and it does have some of the best views in New York – part of the building is a hotel. The rest of the 97 residences are  co-op apartments, but even these are privileged to receive the full services of the five-star hotel – including hotel maid service twice a day. Imagine that? We'd love a bit of turn-down around here...

Here's a look at one of the suites. This is Diana Ross's, by the way.

Ms Ross had it on the market for $9 million at one stage. Which seems a lot considering there's no kitchen? Then again, the wee cooking space is probably all you'd need for a few pots of Beluga caviar and some bottles of Rothschild. It's also one of only the few tower units that comprises a full floor. These suites offer grand scaled rooms – the living room is almost 29 feet long – plus stunning views of the city and Central Park in all four directions. There's also a tiny maid's room, so you can have your butler to hand. I'd use it for the guests who would no doubt drop on your doorstep all the time. I wonder if Michael Jackson was given this room when he slept over?

Personally, I prefer the Dressing Room Penthouses (above). Which are so named because the extraordinarily large dressing rooms are the size of most New York studios. In fact, this one appears to be the same size as the bedroom AND the living room.

Yes, this would suit me fine. It's just a pity my clothes would only fill one-tenth of it.

Here's another one. This dressing room has pride of place in the apartment, right off the foyer. It's about ten times the size of the kitchen. I suspect the Carrie Bradshaws of New York would be delighted at this little number.

And here's a proposed floor plan for an empty floor. Of course, this residence hasn't been built yet. That's for you to do. You just need to pay the $22 million for the space first. Oh - and another $30,000 a month for the maintenance fees. (I don't know about you, but I'm thinking that janitor's doing okay on his Sherry wage...)

The large room has been dubbed 'The Great Room'. There's a gallery to the left. And a library, media room and staff rooms along the side. It does need a little work. As one humorous New York commenter said: "What's with all the sliding doors? Enough already!"

Oh – and if you're interested in property, Diana Ross's apartment still seems to be on the market. Yours for $9 million. Plus $18,000 a month for the building maintenance. Yep, that janitor again...

The Perfect New York Hotel? (At Least For Literary Lovers)

New York has always had an allure for writers. Gritty, compelling and full of metropolitan myths and gossip, it’s long been a subject matter that’s begged to be written about. "Rome may be a poem pressed into service as a city," as Anatole Broyard once put it, but New York is an energised, explosive editorial, bashed out with emphatic passion and Carrie Bradshaw-style zeal. It’s a bumptious collection of phrases and clichés, all patched together with a couple of dozen exclamation marks and then put out there on the newsstands and bookstores for its fans to soak up.

Even the city's hotels seemed to be designed for writers. The famous Chelsea Hotel was, of course, a Mecca for novelists and journalists, with everyone from Arthur Miller to Tennessee Williams, Dylan Thomas, Jasper Johns, Thomas Wolfe, Joni Mitchell and Bob Dylan calling the place home at one time or another. The Algonquin was another noted hangout for writers, notably Dorothy Parker and her Round Table pals. Other hotels have incorporated libraries into their interior design, to appeal to the book lover in all of us. The Library, The Night Hotel, Q Hotel, The Mercer and Andaz (among others) all feature book-lined spaces in either their lobbies or their suites, so you can browse the shelves for some Manhattan inspiration.

Searching for a hotel to stay at for a visit in May, I checked availability at all my old favourites. The Library was as full as A A Gill author talk. The Mercer was booked out with celebs. And the Andaz was just too darn expensive.

That's when I stumbled across NoMad. And I tell you, it was like finding a first edition of Cecil Beaton's Portrait of New York. Complete with dust jacket attached.

NoMad is a book-lover's mirage. A magnificent Beaux Arts building in the newly fashionable NoMad neighbourhood (North of Madison Square Park), it has only been opened for a few days. (So the availability is pretty good!). Now it doesn't look like your standard Manhattan hangout, but that's a good thing, in my opinion. It's more Parisian in feel, but with a modern, New York influence.

The rooms were designed by Jacques Garcia – who wanted to recreate the feel of a beloved Parisian apartment of his younger years. Each features clawfoot baths, antique plank floors, views of the Empire State and Flatiron Buildings, and a distinctly glamorous look. Oh – and there are also vintage desks, should you wish to write about it all.

But it's the public areas where NoMad really shines. Inside this historic old gal is a gracious, thoroughly gorgeous new interior, complete with a grand high-ceilinged lobby, a double-storey Library bar with a mezzanine catwalk and a staircase imported from the south of France, and a salon-style dining room called 'The Parlour'.

The idea was to create a place that felt like "a great house" in the "grand European tradition". They've certainly achieved it.

I, for one, will be tickled pink to stay here.

1170 Broadway  New York, NY 10001. P (212) 796-1500. www.nomad.com

{Images via NoMad and Hotel Chatter}

Book Covers: The Harland Miller Way

Reading through the New York Times' Style magazine this morning (the Spring Design Issue is now online at tmagazine.blogs.nytimes.com), I stopped in my reading tracks at the London home of designer Harriet Anstruther and her photographer husband Henry Bourne. It was a curious and intriguing mix of interior decoration – minimalism meets Cecil Beaton with a lick of hot pink – but what was really interesting was seeing a Harland Miller print over the fireplace.

If you haven't heard of Harland Miller until now (and I admit I'm still coming up to speed: where have I been?), he's a British artist who has achieved a level of fame – or perhaps notoriety – for painting enormous Penguin book covers. Courtney Cox bought one for her Malibu beach house. So, too, did the Soho House hotel group and Elton John, among many others. But instead of the usual (and perhaps ubiquitous) Pride and Prejudice-style cover, Miller reinterprets them and puts his own rebellious spin on them. A Harland Miller title is nothing like a Jane Austen one.

His work is described as "switching between being sardonic, hilarious and nostalgic". He claims the covers reflect the contradictions associated with love – the idea that it is a torment as well as a pleasure. I, like many, just like the humour in them.

And if you don't like the ones floating around the auction houses, you can also commission him to do your own cover. I'd have 'Don't Become An Author' on mine.

Here are some examples. (And if you're offended by profanity, please look away now. I apologise for what's to come. But I didn't paint them. Although for the prices he gets for them, I wish I did!)

The Hemingway one, an oil on canvas measuring 213.3 x 154.9 cm,  sold at a Christie's auction in New York in 2009 for US$22,000. That was a bargain. Miller's Penguins can go for as much as US$50,000.

The prints go for slightly less, but the paintings have that grubby, rough, old-book-cover look about them that I like.

Do you ever think, like me, that you should have continued with those painting classes at RMIT...?

Behind The Scenes on Vogue Living

Confession. I love Vogue Living. I really do. It's the Sydney Opera House of interior design magazines: surprising, refined, a little edgy (I love the way it always curves off in unexpected but joyous directions) and distinctly Australian. It also has a cheeky spirit wrapped inside that taut, dignified body. You could almost say it's the Hugh Jackman of glossies, but let's clear the screen of magazine analogies now.

Many years ago I did a lot of writing for Vogue Living. Correction: I did a lot of secret writing for Vogue Living. Unfortunately, I had a full-time journalism job so I had to do it under a pseudonym that was as faux as the leopard print cushions in the rooms we shot. But I didn't care. It was my dream magazine. I was just grateful for the opportunity.

I remember going along to shoots with the best photographers and stylists of the day – including Earl Carter – and seeing how the pros made magic. It was like seeing what went on inside the top hat of interior design.

So it was interesting to receive Vogue Living's email launching its new Before + After 2102 issue. In this email, VL offered a little editorial tease by (very kindly) allowing a behind-the-scenes peek at at a photo shoot of a Sydney penthouse apartment.

I have to say VL: I love you, I really do, and it breaks my heart to say this, but it wasn't your best story. Or, as they say in fashion, "it wasn't your best angle". At the risk of upsetting those involved (my sincere apologies; I know how difficult it is doing these shoots), this is what I would have loved to have seen instead...

Here's the 'before' shot of that enviable harbour view.

Here's the after:

Are you thinking it's like 'Where's Wally?' too? Okay, it's apparent that a few outdoor chairs have been moved but apart from that, I can't see much of a difference at all. 

What I would have LOVED to have seen is the space BEFORE the VL crew came over: the sports socks and coffee cups scattered here and there, the old Sunday newspapers strewn on the coffee table, the empty wine glasses from the big night before (lipstick stains still attached), and the sexy evening dress thrown over the Egg chair after that great big AFL footballer/banker/visiting Hollywood movie star carried the owner off to bed! (Can't quite see if it's an Egg chair from here, but go with me on this.) 

THEN, I would have loved to have seen how they arranged the floral display (how they even chose the flowers for this space!), how they got the wine stains off the chair, and why they choose what they did for the table scape. 

That would have been a real 'before' and 'after', don't you think? 

And what I really, REALLY would have loved to have seen is how the photographer lit that seemingly dark room and then managed to shoot it with the sunny view outside (all very difficult to do). 

Here's the crew making the bed. Now this is nice. A lovely taupe linen throw, artfully folded and draped just so. But here's what I want to know: What was on the bed before? Was it the Ikea sheets? The hand-made crochet rug? The big hairy dog? Or the AFL footballer/banker/visiting Hollywood movie star?

And what about the artwork? I've worked on shoots where the crew has come in and taken everything away. I mean - Every. Single. Piece. And then replaced the lot with David Bromleys and interesting indigenous paintings.

Also, I like how they've removed their shoes. Very respectful. I notice things like that.

Here's a shot of the crew shooting and observing. This image doesn't tell me a lot. Who chose this for the spread? It shows the bridge and the placement of the apartment, but where are the pix of everybody frantically cleaning the place, styling the corners, moving the furniture? That's what I would have loved to see.

Ah, here we go. Now we're getting there. 

But what about the next shot to this sequence? The styling of the table? The polishing of glasses. The breaking of glasses... 

That would have been better...

Here's a pineapple. 

That banana looks a bit old and cruddy. Helen Redmond (VL editor) doesn't normally allow bad fruit through the Quality Control. (Once I heard her say: "I want six perfect potatoes!" And I just knew they had to be per-fect.) Where's the shot of someone checking the mouldy old banana and taking it away?

Here's the room where the pineapple went. I know what I'm thinking. What are you all thinking?

Okay, so it's a lovely kitchen. (I LOVE a monochrome cooking space.) But not sure about the pineapple people??? It looks like one of the free fruit bowls hotel managers sometimes leave in my room... 

I would have done a tower of chocolate aubergines. Or even an artful display of white ones? 

And why can't they put people in shots anymore? I just find these spaces so empty, stagnant and devoid of life when there's no human movement through them... I know it's a signature look of another interior design magazine (which we won't name here), but can't we show some human life? Even just a pair of shoes on the floor? Just to show somebody lives here?

Apart from that, it's beautiful.

Here's some people looking at a laptop screen, probably to check the images and composition as they go along. 

I know. I'm thinking the same thing. Where are the shots of someone on their hands and knees cleaning the floor? And wiping the table? And sweeping the leaves from that extraordinarily large Fig tree in the background?

Ah, HERE we go! Look at that! Piles of cushions! Now we're seeing the dirt. 

I want to see the BAGS of cushions being brought into the apartment, the TRUCK outside, the REAL styling going on. I want to see the staff laughing, and swearing with exhaustion, and talking about the bad date they had the night before, and why is that AFL footballer still in the penthouse bedroom...???

I'm not a big fan of big, iron-and-steel, bridge-y things in my photos. But that's just me. 

And I'm thinking this terrace needs some 'fluffing'. It needs Faux Fuschia in there to overcushion it. Even one would be nice. Or perhaps some funky lemon, lime and bitter glasses? Or perhaps the AFL footballer leaning over the balcony, sans his robe? (Oh! Did I say that out loud?)

But you know what? It's still a great story, despite my tongue-in-cheek remarks. I think there should be more 'before' and 'after' images like these in magazines. But REAL ones. 

Yes, we even want to see the cleaning lady! And could someone bring that AFL footballer back into shot, please?

{All images via Vogue Living. Buy the latest issue for more insights and loveliness.}

Design Wise: Schappacher White

We're not design snobs here in the House of the Frugal Decorator. We have $300 Italian lamps beside $50 Ikea ones. We have a $400 Bose iPod speaker on a $40 chest of drawers (found at a garage sale and painted matt black to match). We have $1000 Bruno Benini fashion photographs next to my rough old amateur ones. And we have a $250 limited edition Louis Vuitton book (a gift from RR) sitting beside $1 titles found at The Strand in New York.

Interior design should never be precious, in my opinion. It should consist of the things you love. I don't want to lecture you because you're all quite capable of decorating your own homes, and you should do it the way you want to! But the moment I see a room that is styled to within an inch of its life with high-end furniture and precious antiques, I quietly shudder! (Where do they put their feet? Where do they sit their coffee cups without worrying about marking the mahogany? And where – oh where – do the poor dogs go?)

Someone else who shares my down-to-earth design philosophy is Ms Rhea White. She is the kind of woman I love: practical; innovative, creative, funny, and fond of a decorating bargain.  She is a woman who can make a flea-sale find look like an antique from a Sotheby's auction.

I spotted Rhea sitting next to Celerie Kemble in a Habitually Chic photo last week and it prompted me to do a Design Wise post on her firm. I had the great pleasure of meeting Rhea and her design partner Steve Schappacher on Shelter Island near New York when I shot their beach house (above and below) for a book on coastal architecture. Steve Schappacher is the architect of the duo; a design genius who can see possibilities where the rest of us see run-down wrecks. Rhea White is the interior designer of the family; a woman who can style a house like no one – and I mean NO ONE – I've ever met!

I'd like to show you. This, my library friends, is how the pros make over their homes!

(Note: Depending on where we end up living after The Big Move, I'm going to see if we have enough money to get these two to do our next house. That is, if they have time between all their other Manhattan commissions...)

The whimsical black-and-white dining room. The rusty old garden chairs were picked up for a song at a second-hand store on Shelter Island and deliberately left as they were. (Rhea simply put some striped cushions in for comfort.) These chairs really make this space. They are adorable. 

Notice how many of the fittings and furniture pieces are black? It's a clever move because the dark colour outlines the beauty of these pieces by silhouetting them against the white backdrop. 

I've forgotten where she picked up this fabulous vintage chair (I was too busy gawping and photographing madly to make copious notes, sorry!), but I love how it sits beautifully with the gently aged kitchen cabinet behind it. Look how Rhea has painted the back of it, to highlight the dinnerware.  Normally people paint cabinets or bookshelves black and then leave the back of them white. Rhea, however, has gone the opposite direction. I told you she was clever.

The kitchen. This is such a lovely cooking space for an island beach house. Look at how the black dinnerware makes a statement on the white shelves. And how the cupboards are like old-fashioned farmhouse cupboards. The modern twist to this room is the stove. It's black. (I desperately want one of those!) Love the geometric sink in the island bench too. And the elegant tapware with the simple benchtop. Just beautiful.

Chalkboards have been in so long they're bound to go out soon, but Rhea and Steve have given theirs a contemporary look by painting the entire kitchen wall in chalkboard paint and doodling cute pictures on it. It works because the wall beyond it is black too, while the door trims have been painted white. The layers of black and white are instantly dramatic. Even the shell hanging on the far wall has been painted white. And look at the cream sandshoes. Very cute.

This is a detail of the hallway in the previous photo. Rhea has simply strung up an old fishing rope and thrown some hooks over it. So creative. The beach bag is a witty play on words. (The house is on Shelter Island.)

The powder room. Located off the side entrance, this was my favourite room. That steel shower screen is actually VERY expensive.  (I doubt their laundry/powder room was a $30 makeover like ours!) But look at the retro-style black tapware. Isn't it beautiful? It's a lot like the bathrooms in the guest rooms of Ace Hotel in New York. And those light fittings! I love this powder room. Such a glamorous beach house ensuite. It makes you want to wear a retro-style, polka-dot black maillot, and then hang it up on a hook to match!

The living room. The top image is out of focus but it doesn't matter as many of you will have already seen this room in the blogosphere. The bottom image is the one I wanted to show you. It's home-made artwork, created out of rusty old bits of steel. Love the 4-by-3 configuration.

The bedrooms. These were ordinary farmhouse bedrooms, located either side of the landing at the top of the stairs. But look how lovely they are with a black-and-white palette?

The garden. The garden was as gorgeous as the rest of the house. Rhea and Steve built the long pergola and the outdoor fireplace, and converted the carport to a cool pool house. I'm told by another architect (a famous New York one, who knows about these things) that this pool is VERY expensive because of the long steps on the side. I'm too polite to ask how much it costs, and it doesn't matter, because it's the final exclamation design on this spectacularly clever Shelter Island beach house.

For more details of this creative duo's projects, look up their website schappacherwhite.com, or click here – Schappacher White