Cavendish Mews is a smart set of flats in Mayfair where flapper and modern woman, the Honourable Lettice Chetwynd has set up home after coming of age and gaining her allowance. To supplement her already generous allowance, and to break away from dependence upon her family, Lettice has established herself as a society interior designer, so her flat is decorated with a mixture of elegant antique Georgian pieces and modern Art Deco furnishings, using it as a showroom for what she can offer to her well heeled clients.
Today however we are at Glynes, the grand Georgian family seat of the Chetwynds in Wiltshire, and the home of Lettice’s parents, the presiding Viscount and Countess of Wrexham and the heir, their eldest son Leslie and his wife Arabella. Lettice is visiting her family home for Christmas. She motored down to Wiltshire with her old childhood chum, Gerald, also a member of the aristocracy who has tried to gain some independence from his family by designing gowns from a shop in Grosvenor Street. His family, the Brutons, are neighbours to the Cheywynds with their properties sharing boundaries. That is how Gerald and Lettice came to be such good friends. However, whilst both families are landed gentry with lineage going back centuries, unlike Lettice’s family, Gerald’s live in a much smaller baronial manor house and are in much more straitened circumstances.
It is Christmas Day 1922, and we find ourselves in the very grand and elegant drawing room of Glynes with its gilt Louis and Palladian style furnishings where the Viscount is indulging in his favourite activity as lord of the manor on Christmas Day, handing out the gifts that have been stacked beneath the splendidly decked out Christmas tree to his family. At his feet, Lettice’s elder sister Lalage’s (known to everyone in the family by the diminutive Lally) children Harrold and Annabelle, squeal with delight as noisily, beautiful wrapping and carefully tied fat satin bows are torn asunder hurriedly to reveal wonderful toys. Lady Sadie sits in her usual armchair next to the fire, dressed splendidly in a pastel coloured crêpe de chine day gown with ropes of pearls about her neck and cascading down her front, not unlike Queen Mary, sipping champagne from a fine crystal flute, enjoying playing hostess to her family. Charles, Lally’s husband sits in a matching armchair diagonally across from Sadie, watching his children with delight as they open their presents, nursing a brandy in his right hand. Lettice’s eldest brother Leslie is snuggled up with his new wife Arabella on one of the two facing Louis Quinze sofas, whilst Lettice and Lally sit on the sofa opposite them, closest to the Christmas tree. The Viscount’s younger bohemian artist sister, Eglantine (known lovingly by Lettice and her siblings as Aunt Egg), always a restless spirit, wanders the room, smoking her favourite Black Russian cigarettes through a holder, never quite settling as she thinks her own thoughts whilst also engaging sporadically with her family when it suits her. None of the family’s faithful retainers are present, as the tradition is that servants are given Christmas Day off after breakfast until the late afternoon, when they return and prepare to serve the family’s Christmas dinner in the Glynes dining room.
“Ho! Ho! Ho!” booms the Viscount jovially as he withdraws a long parcel wrapped in holly patterned paper tied up with a gold ribbon. “What have we here?” He shakes it slightly, making the contents rattle metallically. He squints as he reads the tag attached to the bow. “A present for Master Harrold from Auntie Tice!” He smiles magnanimously at his grandson and rubs his hair lovingly as he hands the parcel over to Harrold.
“Ripping!” cries Harrold as he opens Lettice’s gift and finds two beautifully painted jousting lead knights on horseback. “Thanks ever so, Aunt Tice!”
“You’re welcome, darling!” Lettice says from the gilded sofa next to the Christmas tree, accepting the big hug and kiss he bestows on her, carefully holding her glass of champagne aloft.
“Careful Harrold dear!” Lally chides her son softly as sitting beside her sister, she indicates to Lettice’s glass. “Auntie Tice doesn’t want her champagne to go all over Grandmamma’s sofa.”
“No indeed, she does not!” quips Lady Sadie crisply, champagne flute poised to her lips.
“Oh don’t be crabby Sadie,” scolds the Viscount with a crumpled brow as he settles back into the high backed gilded salon chair embroidered in petit point tapestry by his mother. “It’s Christmas!”
“Christmas or not Cosmo, my father gave us this set as part of my dowery.” Sadie retorts, sipping the champagne in a superior fashion in her glass.
“And don’t we all know it!” Cosmo rolls his eyes as he replies.
“I didn’t Pappa,” Lettice admits. “Until last Christmas, when we were decorating the tree in here and Lally told me so. And now I know why you like the Christmas tree in here to be decorated to match the furnishings.”
“Oh you girls! What nonsense!” Lady Sadie scoffs, but the awkward way she goes noticeably silent and turns to gaze into the roaring fire in the white marble fireplace tells everyone present that that that is the exact reason why she has the tree dressed in gold and cream every year.
“Here, hold this.” Lettice hands her glass to her sister before proceeding to envelop her eight year old nephew. “You’re welcome darling boy! Merry Christmas!”
“Merry Christmas!” he replies joyfully. “How did you know that I wanted some knights, Auntie Tice?” Harrold asks, his voice full of enthusiasm as Lettice releases him and he sinks back down to the floor where he sets the jousting knights up.
“Oh, I keep an ear out.” she replies knowingly, giving him a mockingly serious look that makes him laugh.
“You can’t say anything around your Aunt Tice without her paying attention to it.” laughs Lally as she hands Lettice back her champagne flute. “She’s always been the most observant of us, hasn’t she Leslie?”
“Always.” Leslie agrees with a smile.
Turning to her sister Lally adds, making her own adroit observation, “Harrold’s getting a very nice collection of lead soldiers and the like between gifts from you, Pappa and Father Christmas.” She looks with an indulgent smile at the other cavalry lead soldiers her son has been given as he sets them up amongst the detritus of discarded brightly coloured paper and ribbons.
“Ho! Ho! Ho!” booms the Viscount with gusto as he delves beneath the branches of the tree. “Who’s next then?”
“It was good of Pappa to put up a Christmas tree in the entrance hall for Harrold and Belle this year.” Lally remarks to Lettice as she smiles watching her father fossick through the beautifully wrapped gifts.
“Well, he could hardly refuse, could he?” Lettice replies. “With you joining the chorus from the children after we let it slip last Christmas.” She giggles as she puts her glass to her lips. “I don’t think Pappa could stand the din.”
“When the carol singers came up from the village last night and Pappa invited them in for brandy and to warm themselves by the fire in the entrance hall and enjoy the big Christmas tree all covered in tinsel, baubles and lighted candles, it was just like the Christmases before the war.”
“Yes, it was rather.”
“Oh! This is for Belle from Auntie Tice!” the Viscount announces.
“For me, Pappa?” Arabella pipes up, popping her head up queryingly from her husband’s shoulder where she has been contentedly snuggled next to him.
“No, not you, Bella,” Leslie says with an indulgent smile and a calming pat to her hands, encouraging her to lower her head back to where her had been snuggling lovingly against it. “Belle.” He nods in the general direction of his niece.
“No! It’s me, Auntie Bella!” exclaims Annabelle, spinning around excitedly in her pretty pale yellow Jean Lanvin* lace trimmed frock. “It’s for me! For me!”
“It really is too awful of you, Leslie, marrying a girl with a name so similar to Annabelle.” laughs Lally good heartedly.
“Oh, sorry Lally darling. I’ll pick a more appropriately named wife next time.” Leslie replies, the apology rewarded with a kittenish slap to his forearm from his giggling new wife who accuses him playfully of wanting a second wife when they have been married barely a month.
“They do look happy.” Lally remarks to Lettice as she leans in conspiratorially towards her. “I’m glad that Leslie finally decided to marry Bella.”
“Yes, as Gerald said at the wedding,” Lettice replies looking over at her brother and his new bride so deeply in love on the sofa opposite. “They are both country folk. She loves riding and is interested in, and I quote, ‘animal husbandry and all that awfully dirty estate business’.”
A peal of laughter erupts from Lally’s lips. “Oh Gerald does have a way with words. Is he up at the Hall?”
“Yes, with his parents and Roland.”
“Oh, that will be a rather dour Christmas I suspect. That wastrel Roland is almost as bad as Lionel.”
“And thank god Lionel isn’t here for Christmas, in spite of Aunt Egg’s protestations.” Lettice observes quietly. She looks to her beloved aunt drifting distractedly about the room, leaving a trail of cigarette smoke curlicues in her wake, her aqua satin gown cascading round her elegantly as she moves.
“And he didn’t create any more potential scandal whilst he was here, mercifully.” adds Lally, taking a gulp of champagne from her glass at the mere thought of their horrible sibling, detested by the whole family except for Aunt Egg.
“At least Leslie and Bella’s wedding seems to have taken the pressure off me, for the time being at least.” Lettice whispers quietly to Lally. “With so much attention on the wedding, Mater has hardly had time to focus on little old me.”
“Oh poor you!” mocks Lally sarcastically, her eyes glittering with mirth. “How are things going with the dashing young Selwyn?”
“Oh, you know,” Lettice answers, shrugging her shoulders. “Fits and starts.”
“You know,” Lally says kindly. “If the love isn’t there, you shouldn’t try and force it, no matter what Mamma says or wants. I’ve given her several grandchildren, and no doubt Leslie and Bella will add to the brood in no short amount of time.”
“Oh it isn’t that.” Lettice assures her sister. “Selwyn and I are very fond of one another.”
“There peals the chime of an unfinished thought.” Lally remarks knowledgably.
“A teddy!” squeals Anabelle shrilly in sheer delight, breaking the conversation between the two Chetwynd sisters.
Tearing aside the shiny gold paper the Harrod’s toy department Christmas wrappers had so carefully stuck around the soft caramel coloured bear, Arabella pulls out the large, floppy limbed toy and holds him up, scrutinising his smiling embroidered face and shiny amber glass eyes, before enveloping him in the embrace of her chubby arms and planting loving kisses on his cheeks and stitched mouth.
“Oh! What a grand choice, darling!” Lally approves. “You will be the favourite with both my angels today.”
“Oh what a lovely gift, Lettice,” Charles remarks from his armchair where he cradles a glass of port. Looking at his daughter cuddling the stuffed bear almost as big as herself he says, “What do you say to Auntie Tice?”
“Thank you Auntie Tice!” Annabelle says.
“You’re welcome darling! Merry Christmas!”
“I‘m sure Auntie Tice deserves a cuddle for such a splendid gift, Belle.” her mother adds.
“A perfect choice. I don’t know how you do it.” Charles remarks as Lettice is enveloped by her niece who gives her a big hug.
“It helps when you live around the corner from Harrods, Charles darling.” Lally remarks, looking to her husband. “Then you don’t have to rely on the Army and Navy Stores** catalogue.”
“My mother did perfectly well for Christmases for us out of the Army and Navy Stores catalogue when we lived in India!” Charles defends his choice of present sourcing.
“But we don’t live in India,” Lally laughs. “We live in Buckinghamshire, which is far more civilised, and within reach of London by rail. And anyway, nothing the children actually wanted was in that wretched old fashioned catalogue.” Turning back to her sister she continues. “And I’m very grateful for all your help, Tice, organising my requests for Christmas gifts for the children.”
“It’s my pleasure.”
“Ho! Ho! Ho!” says the Viscount. “Who’s next?” He delves into the slowly diminishing pile of gifts beneath the tree. “Oh! It’s for Grandmamma from Grandpappa!” he says jovially as he passes over a small square gift wrapped in red paper tied with an ornate cascade of white ribbons to his wife.
“Oh Cosmo!” Lady Sadie gasps, her face flushing with embarrassment at suddenly being the centre of attention as she gratefully accepts his gift from his extended hand.
“Merry Christmas my dear.” the Viscount replies kindly, giving her a discreet wink, which causes her to blush even more.
“Oh Cosmo! It’s beautiful!” Lady Sadie gasps as she removes an eye catching diamond spray brooch from a blue velvet lined box within the wrapping.
“Oh Mamma!” Lally exclaims admiringly.
“Oh, put it on Mamma!” Lettice adds enthusiastically.
“I… I don’t think I can. My hands are shaking too much.” her mother replies. “I’ll be all thumbs.”
“You put it on her then, Tice,” Lally prods her sister. “You’re always better at sort of thing than me. You have the right eye for how things look.”
Lettice gets up and crosses the thick old floral carpet, dropping to her knees before her mother, the russet coloured silk georgette of her day gown pooling about her. She takes the expensive bauble from her mother’s trembling hand and looks closely at it. Sparkling diamonds in platinum settings wink and glint in the drawing room chandelier’s light. She notices that the design is of pretty asters with elegant stems and leaves shaped in gold. “What a treasure Mamma!”
“Oh Cosmo!” Lady Sadie puts her fingers to her trembling lips as tears of delight create a sheen across her eyes.
“You never cease to be full of surprises, Pappa.” Lettice remarks as she unhooks the c-clasp on the back of the brooch and considers the floral pattern of her mother’s frock.
“So that’s why you had to go up to London that day last month.” Leslie remarks. “You old devil! Banking matters my foot! More like Asprey’s*** I’d say! What cheek! Leaving me to fend for myself, whilst you run off and get something for your lady love!”
“And you did admirably in my absence, my boy.” the Viscount replies proudly. “You’ll be taking over the estate sooner rather than later, and then you’ll need to always have your wits about you.”
“There!” Lettice says with a satisfied sigh, sitting back and admiring the sparking jewelled brooch now affixed safely to her mother’s left bosom. “Go and look in the mirror, Mamma!”
“Should I?” Lady Sadie gathers up her skirts after receiving an encouraging nod from her daughter, and with the soft rustle of silk she glides across the room full of joy and delight where she admires her new piece of jewellery in one of the gilt framed Palladian style pier mirrors on the wall.
“Come on Pappa,” Lally commands. “There are still plenty of gifts beneath the tree. Hopefully,” She looks to her husband. “There might even be one for me by the time you’re through.”
Charles merely smiles enigmatically in reply, but says nothing.
“Oh!” the Viscount announces grandly. “This is for Lettice,” He pauses for effect. “From me!” He chuckles and hands the large square parcel wrapped in pretty holly sprig patterned paper topped with an ornate red satin bow to his youngest child.
Lettice hands her champagne flute to her sister again. “Thanks awfully Pappa.” she replies, her voice thick with emotion as she accepts the gift from her father.
“Merry Christmas darling girl.”
She places it on her lap and runs her hands reverently around the parcel’s edges and momentarily toys with the bow.
“Well don’t just look at it, Lettice,” Charles cajoles from his chair. “Open it up!”
“That’s not Tice’s way.” his wife replies. “Not only is she the most observant of us all, she is also the one who perhaps appreciates her gifts the most.”
“We’d have torn all our presents free of their paper long before Tice had even opened half of hers.” Leslie adds.
“Rip it open! Rip it open!” squeals Annabelle excitedly, jumping up and down with exuberance.
“Belle!” Lally gasps. “Don’t scream and jump up and down like that. It’s most unladylike!” She shakes her head admonishingly. “Grandmamma will think we live in a zoo with you behaving like a screaming monkey.” She quickly adds before her mother can quip about the fact that she does think that or something else disparaging, “This is Auntie Tice’s gift. She can open it how she sees fit.” She eyes her young daughter. “I know you’re anxious to open your next gift, but you must be patient.”
“What do you think it is, Auntie Tice?” Harrold asks, peering with mild interest at the gift in her lap as he sits at her feet.
“Well,” Lettice lifts the present and inspects it closely as she turns it over in her hands. “It’s very heavy, so it must be that crystal chandelier that I want for my drawing room in London.” She gives her nephew a conspiratorial smile and screws up her nose in amusement as he chuckles at her absurd guess.
“A chandelier!” giggles Annabelle as childish peals of laughter burst forth from her upturned mouth. “It can’t be Auntie Tice! It’s too small.”
Lettice considers the parcel again. Looking directly at her niece, she replies, “You’re absolutely right, Annabelle darling! Of course, it’s far too small to be a chandelier. How clever you are. Silly Auntie Tice!”
Annabelle smiles proudly at her aunt’s admission that she is right, raising a finger coyly to her mouth.
“Oh, just open it, Tice!” Lally finally gasps in amused and intrigued exasperation. “Or I’ll do it for you. Don’t be a frightful tease, darling!”
Carefully removing the red satin bow, she runs her fingers under the lip of expertly wrapped paper, severing the tape with her well manicured nail like a letter opener. With a rustling sigh, the paper falls away, revealing a beautiful lapis lazuli blue leather book, decorated with ornate gilded tooling.
“Oh Pappa!” she gasps, taking the book out of its bed of paper, which Lally quickly whisks off Lettice’s lap and onto the floor where it joins the other tattered remnants of Christmas wrapping. “How lovely. Egyptomania…” she reads musingly as she run her hands over the title picked out in a striking red, made even more so by the deep blue and rich golds of the binding surrounding it. “Is this from Mahew’s****?”
“Where else my girl?” the Viscount settles back in his seat comfortably, a satisfied look on his face. “See Leslie. It wasn’t just a visit to Asprey’s I took in whilst I was up in London.”
“Which also explains why you didn’t visit me whilst you were there, Pappa.” Lettice realises.
Pointing at the book, the Viscount continues, “I remember your Great Grandfather Chetwynd talking about the Egyptomania***** that gripped the world after that Frenchman first deciphered hieroglyphs using the Rosetta stone. The illustrations in that book will put you in good stead for the next wave of Egyptomania coming. Everyone is going to want an Egyptian style drawing room.”
“Do you really think this renewed interest in Egyptian style will carry on past Christmas, Pappa?” Lally asks. “It’s just a passing phase, surely.”
“There hasn’t been a discovery like the boy king’s tomb****** in living memory, Lally. This ‘phase’, as you put it, will be a mania that will last. A symbol of the 1920s. You mark my words.” He taps his nose knowingly.
“That’s so thoughtful of you, Cosmo.” Eglantine says standing behind Sadie’s chair, taking a long drag on the Sobranie Black Russian******* through her amber and gold cigarette holder. Blowing out a plume of acrid, yet at the same time exotic, blue smoke, she adds. “A book like that will help Lettice keep ahead of the fashionable trends in design.”
“Don’t encourage her, Eglantine!” hisses Lady Sadie, flapping her hands as much in an effort to silence her bohemian sister-in-law as to drive away the cloying cigarette smoke enveloping her. “You’re as bad as Cosmo!” She shoots an accusing look over her shoulder at her husband, but he is too absorbed watching his youngest daughter’s rapturous enjoyment of his gift to notice her annoyance. “All this interior design nonsense.”
“Why shouldn’t I, Sadie?” Eglantine replies, folding her arms defiantly across the metallic thread embroidery of the bodice of her elegant reformist Paul Poiret******** gown. Staring the seated matron down with a steely and haughty look, she adds, ‘Someone must support the talent of your daughter, since you are obviously too blinkered to nurture it. Cosmo and I can champion her cause since you refuse to.” She smiles over to her older brother in his seat, still looking at his daughter. Turning her gaze to her niece she adds, “She is my favourite nice, after all.”
“I’m sure you say that about all our female cousins, Aunt Egg.” Lally laughs.
“And I keep telling you and your sister that you are all my favourites, Lally. However,” She lifts the long opera length strand of creamy white pearls between the fingers of her elegant left hand and toys with them thoughtfully. “You will never know until after I’m gone.” She laughs raspily. “For then the truth will be exposed through the disbursement of my jewels. To my favourite, or favourites, go the spoils!”
Lost in the beautifully engraved and hand coloured illustrations from the old Victorian volume, Lettice allows the conversation to wash over her, unaware that it centres around her.
“I wouldn’t wonder that Lettice is your favourite, since you are both such awful teases!” Lally laughs good naturedly. “Here Tice. Take your glass back darling. Pappa has more presents to dispense.”
“Before I do,” the Viscount clears his throat as he stands and starts walking across to the gilded table in the centre of the carpet upon which stand two bottles of champagne in wine coolers. “I should like to make a toast.”
He takes up the open bottle of champagne and proceeds to top up all the adults’ glasses, except for Charles who continues to nurse his brandy.
“What is your toast, Pappa?” asks Leslie as he and Arabella join the others in standing.
“To a very merry Christmas, one and all!” he replies, raising his glass.
“Merry Christmas!” everyone else replies enthusiastically, charging their glasses.
*Jeanne Lanvin (1867 – 1946) was a French haute couture fashion designer. She founded the Lanvin fashion house and the beauty and perfume company Lanvin Parfums. She became an apprentice milliner at Madame Félix in Paris at the age of 16 and trained with Suzanne Talbot and Caroline Montagne Roux before becoming a milliner on the rue du Faubourg Saint-Honoré in 1889. In 1909, Jeanne joined the Syndicat de la Couture, which marked her formal status as a couturière. The clothing she made for her daughter began to attract the attention of a number of wealthy people who requested copies for their own children. Soon, Jeanne was making dresses for their mothers, and some of the most famous names in Europe were included in the clientele of her new boutique on the rue du Faubourg Saint-Honoré. By 1922 when this story is set, she had just opened her first shop devoted to home décor, menswear, furs and lingerie. Her gowns were always very feminine and romantic.
**Army and Navy Stores was a department store group in the United Kingdom, which originated as a co-operative society for military officers and their families during the nineteenth century. The society became a limited liability company in the 1930s and purchased a number of independent department stores during the 1950s and 1960s. In 1973 the Army and Navy Stores group was acquired by House of Fraser. In 2005 the remaining Army & Navy stores (the flagship store located on Victoria Street in London and stores in Camberley, and Chichester) were refurbished and re-branded under the House of Fraser nameplate. House of Fraser itself was acquired by Icelandic investment company, Baugur Group, in late 2006, and then by Sports Direct on the 10 August 2018.
***Founded in 1781 as a silk printing business by William Asprey, Asprey soon became a luxury emporium. In 1847 the business moved to their present premises at 167 Bond Street, where they advertised 'articles of exclusive design and high quality, whether for personal adornment or personal accompaniment and to endow with richness and beauty the table and homes of people of refinement and discernment’. In 1862 Asprey received a Royal Warrant from Queen Victoria. They received a second Royal Warrant from the Future Edward VII in 1889. Asprey has a tradition of producing jewellery inspired by the blooms found in English gardens and Woodland Flora. Over the decades jewelled interpretations of flowers have evolved to include Daisy, Woodland and sunflower collections. They have their own special cut of diamond and produce leather goods, silver and gold pieces, trophies and leatherbound books, both old and new. They also produce accessories for playing polo. In 1997, Asprey produced the Heart of the Ocean necklace worn in the motion picture blockbuster, ‘Titanic’
****A. H. Mayhew was once one of many bookshops located in London’s Charring Cross Road, an area still famous today for its bookshops, perhaps most famously written about by American authoress Helene Hanff who wrote ’84, Charing Cross Road’, which later became a play and then a 1987 film starring Anne Bancroft and Anthony Hopkins. Number 56. Charing Cross Road was the home of Mayhew’s second-hand and rare bookshop. Closed after the war, their premises is now the home of Any Amount of Books bookshop.
*****Egyptomania refers to a period of renewed interest in the culture of ancient Egypt sparked by Napoleon's Egyptian Campaign in the 19th century. Napoleon was accompanied by many scientists and scholars during this Campaign, which led to a large interest after the documentation of ancient monuments in Egypt. The ancient remains had never been so thoroughly documented before and so the interest in ancient Egypt increased significantly. Jean-François Champollion deciphered the ancient hieroglyphs in 1822 by using the Rosetta Stone that was recovered by French troops in 1799 which began the study of scientific Egyptology.
******On the 4th of November 1922, English archaeologist Howard Carter and his men discovered the entrance to the boy king, Pharaoh Tutankhamun's tomb in the Valley of the Kings, sparking a worldwide interest in all things Egyptian. The craze he started became known as Tutmania, and it inspired everything from the architecture of public building and private houses alike to interior design and fashion. Famously at the time, socialite Dolores Denis Denison applied one of the earliest examples of getting the media of the day to pay attention to her because of her dress by arriving at the prestigious private view of the King Tut Exhibition in London, dressed as an Egyptian mummy complete in a golden sarcophagus and had to be carried inside by her driver and a hired man. Although it started before the discovery of the tomb, the Art Deco movement was greatly influenced by Egyptian style. Many of the iconic decorative symbols we associate with the movement today came about because of Howard Carter’s discovery of Tutankhamun's tomb in the Valley of the Kings.
*******The Balkan Sobranie tobacco business was established in London in 1879 by Albert Weinberg (born in Romania in 1849), whose naturalisation papers dated 1886 confirm his nationality and show that he had emigrated to England in the 1870s at a time when hand-made cigarettes in the eastern European and Russian tradition were becoming fashionable in Europe. Sobranie is one of the oldest cigarette brands in the world. Throughout its existence, Sobranie was marketed as the definition of luxury in the tobacco industry, being adopted as the official provider of many European royal houses and elites around the world including the Imperial Court of Russia and the royal courts of United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, Spain, Romania, and Greece. Premium brands include the multi-coloured Sobranie Cocktail and the black and gold Sobranie Black Russian.
********Paul Poiret was a French fashion designer and a master couturier during the first two decades of the Twentieth century. He was the founder of his namesake haute couture house. In 1911, he introduced "Parfums de Rosine," named after his daughter, becoming the first French couturier to launch a signature fragrance. Poiret's designs were groundbreaking and reformist for the time, and were sought after by fashionable avant garde women of society. He was the first designer to introduce trousers for women, producing harem pants in 1910. However, he was also responsible for the ‘hobble skirt’ which restricted women’s movements to a mere hobble (as the name suggests) by restricting movement of the ankles with the use of an exceedingly narrow hem. Despite his incredible vision, Poiret did not see the change of fashion that came after the Great War, being on the brink of bankruptcy by 1919 thanks to simple sleek designs of new Couturiers like Coco Chanel which he refused to adopt. In 1922, he was invited to New York to design costumes and dresses for Broadway stars, yet he hated America and returned to Paris within the year. In 1929, his fashion house was closed, its leftover stock sold by the kilogram as rags.
This fun Christmas tableau full of festive presents and wrapping may not appear to be all you think it is as first, for it is made up of pieces out of my miniatures collection.
Fun things to look for in this tableau include:
The Chetwynd Christmas tree, beautifully decorated with garlands, tinsel, bows and golden baubles is a 1:12 artisan piece. It was hand made by husband and wife artistic team Margie and Mike Balough who own Serendipity Miniatures in Newcomerstown, Ohio. Margie and Mike Balough also made all the beautifully wrapped Christmas gifts gathered around its base.
The beautiful teddy bear with his sweet, if slightly melancholic, face, the box of lead soldiers and knights jousting all come from Kathleen Knight’s Doll House Shop in the United Kingdom. The lead cavalry and knights have been painstakingly painted by hand with incredible detail and attention paid to their livery.
The discarded blue and gold Christmas wrapping on the carpet of the drawing room are in reality foil wrappers from miniature Haigh’s Chocolate Easter Eggs.
The gilt salon chair is made by the high-end miniature furniture maker, Bespaq, but what is particularly special about it is that it has been covered in antique Austrian floral micro petite point by V.H. Miniatures in the United Kingdom, which makes this a one-of-a-kind piece. The artisan who made this says that as one of her hobbies, she enjoys visiting old National Trust Houses in the hope of getting some inspiration to help her create new and exciting miniatures. She saw some beautiful petit point chairs a few years ago in one of the big houses in Derbyshire and then found exquisitely detailed petit point that was fine enough for 1:12 scale projects.
The three piece Louis XV suite of settee and two armchairs was made by the high-end miniature furniture maker, JBM.
The Persian rug on the floor has been woven by Pike, Pike and Company in the United Kingdom.
