The Trunk

I've already tweeted about it once or twice but the arrival of The Trunk really does deserve a proper mention on here too, I feel. Having neglected the blog for way too long it seems the perfect icebreaker and hopefully will serve to re-open the floodgates for me, writing-wise.

Last year a friend's neighbour had decided to sell her house with a great deal of furniture and nick nacks still in it, as she retired into a local home for the elderly. Before putting the house on the market, the immediate family came and checked all the 'remnants' and told my friend she was welcome to purchase any of the items marked 'for sale'. I was over at my friend's for a cup of tea and a natter one afternoon when she invited me to go next door and have a peak at the things she'd chosen for herself and 'Who knows,' she said, 'there may be something you'd like?'. Well, I do love a house clearance as well as antiques plus I'm by nature too nosy for my own good, so took great pleasure in accepting the invitation. There were a few lovely little pieces: wardrobes, interesting cabinets, paintings and prints, a globe and some luggage and of course the pièce de résistance, an old Louis Vuitton Steamer trunk. When I saw it I thought 'Oh gosh, we've always wanted one of those' but was certain that if my friend hadn't earmarked it for herself, the family surely would have. Instead nobody showed any interest, apart from me. I registered my eagerness and awaited confirmation that I could purchase it from the owners. Whilst still in the house I took pictures and sent them to him indoors, he promptly came back with 'Get it! Get it!' or words to that effect. 'He's keen', I thought. My friend and I took a few moments to inspect the case, we opened it and couldn't believe the interior, it was very impressive with beautiful original mahogany Louis Vuitton engraved coat hangers and it seemed in relatively good condition considering its age which at a guess I'd say was just over 100 years. We moved on, had more tea and eventually said our goodbyes - she said she'd let me know and of course there was no hurry on my part so I told her not to worry. Although I must admit to having felt an underlying excitement within me, in my gut, which told me this was a nice piece to have come across, casually in such a way.

I eventually received the 'OK' via my friend from the family of the lady and also the price which I felt was very reasonable indeed. Especially as I had chosen a selection of items, so the price was for the lot rather than for individual pieces. It took 2 strong men to carry the LV down about 100 steps and into our car. It now stands resplendent in our office. A magnificent beast of a trunk, I've started researching its origins and history as well as the monogrammed letters on the lid (RvS... ironic, no?).
I also came across this wonderful 2010 project called "Louis Vuitton: 100 Legendary Trunks", an exceptional book which showcases the most beautiful  LV creations through more than eight hundred photographs. In the book you'll find many incredible pieces, along with the equally incredible stories of their creation. To find out more and to be transported into the glamourous world of Louis Vuitton and luxury luggage, go directly to the Louis Vuitton website and select "The World Of Louis Vuitton" where you'll find the link to the Legendary Trunks page and its exquisite video.You'll also find Bono and his lovely wife Ali somewhere there.
Oh, and there's even an app!

Anyway, here's our beast. We're having it valued next. Christie's I think.

shady spot no.1

The time has come for summer guests. Every year we hope they return and this year, we shall not be dissappointed. The heat is practically unbearable (for some - not for me - and possibly for the houseguests as they arrive from cooler climes) and therefore I thought it might be a good idea to think about shady spots. Here are a few which might take our guests' fancy and which will give them a taste of things to come (you know who you are!). The sunlounger is my particular favourite and in the afternoon there is nothing better than to read ones favourite book and nod off ever so slightly.
We are considering launching as a B&B...

The Contemporist

I'm not saying it's my ideal house but I just can't get enough of The Contemporist's daily feeds. And a few of you seem to be house-junkies like me so I reckon you'll find the pictures and the articles interesting.This is another lovely example and be sure to visit the blog to view all of the interiors and front views.
Well, I'm not sure about you but I've certainly had my daily fix.

chasing houses

My beloved sent me a link today (click it NOW... loads more amazing pics) and it completely got me. I am bewitched. The architect is Natalie Dionne and the house is in Montreal, Canada. It's called the U-House. It was featured on the CONTEMPORIST a while ago, which by the way, is a fabulous blog for architecture and interiors junkies. 

changing it no more

Living in a small village is probably some people's idea of purgatory (it's my new favourite word: purgatory - so on point, so Dante), but to me it's heaven and a real life-saver. We moved our big family-life, lock stock and 15 barrels four years ago now, although by the roots growing beneath my feet you'd think we've been here most of our lives. Which is in fact what I'd like you (and myself) to believe, but then I wouldn't be the person I am today. Without those 8 longdistance moves (I'm talking countries people, not houses, please!) I probably wouldn't be able to tell a story or two on this blogthing.
Nevertheless here we are, in our bliss, having to once again face up to the idea of change. As some of you know the word "change" brings out the worst in me. Just ask my husband what happens when he suggests something along the lines of "Why don't we move the sofa over there?" I go all weird and pannicky, it's not a pretty sight. In fact he knows better now than to just make such suggestions without priming me first ("Take a deep breath, nothing's going to happen, we can put everything back the way it was in a jiffy, I promise"). Unsurprisingly I already have my fingers dug deep into the ground, desperately gripping with my hands and feet in an attempt to not alter the status quo.
But the good thing about this change I suppose, is that it doesn't involve another country but only another house. Heck! I can do that with my eyes closed. But even to take me out of the village (nevermind the country), would mean you'd have to kill me first. Even the neighbouring village is difficult for me. I am so woven into the fabric of my local surrroundings now, the friendly and very familiar faces, my little superstrong supporting network of very good friends (some of which actually do live in the neighbouring villages but I won't hold that against them) that leaving all this now would cause irreparable damage (how dramatic does THAT sound, eh?). What I'd like to know though, is how I got to this stage? What happened in the last four years that have turned me into this wanderlustless person? It's probably my age and it's more than a little likely that it has something to do with the fact that I have spent too much of my time moving around and now that my greys are growing quicker than I'd care to mention, I am possibly showing the first signs of intollerance that from my personal recollection, become a very recognisable character trait in the elder generation. Just kidding, I'm young and I'm raring to go. But I am petrified of change. Make of that what you will.
So, after this very longwinded prelude I finally get to the point. Which is that we are in the market for a new house. Here in this part of the world, real estate agents don't really have a great time as most transactions happen through word of mouth. Houses are not seen as investments and they certainly don't increase in value over time as they do in the UK. Once you buy a house here, you stay in it forever (now there's a nice word) and if you do decide to move, you tend to let it as selling it would instantly place you in a much higher tax bracket.  Land on the other hand is much more desirable as architecture and build-your-own are 2 very realistic and also very chic options. So how about it? Why don't we try our hand at this housebuilding malarkey? As it happens I have a dream. It's a Neutra kind of dream...and I'm sure you'll agree, it would look spot on, on trend, on point etc, right here in my little village. It looks something like this.

empty beauty

I came across this wonderful site courtesy of a fellow writer. It features images of abandoned houses in and around Detroit. 100 Abandoned Houses is a magical labour of love by local photographer Kevin Bauman whose specific interest in Detroit's Brush Park and its surrounding areas produced a wonderful image bank of abandoned houses. Read his story here.
The pictures are so strong, that absolutely no text is needed. Each and every house has such personality and becomes a character with its own story to tell.  I am fascinated rather than sad when I look at them, they're mesmerising, don't you agree? There is mystery here and there is life (albeit as a memory) rather than death. Houses that are empty are always more intriguing to me than those filled with people. When they are empty or more devastatingly even abandoned as in Bauman's case, we're just left with the luxury of imagination to make what we will of their history. Super stuff.