The French designer opens the doors of his house in Normandy France.
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Enjoying the Swedish summer in a spectacular home.
Saturday, August 21, 2010
JAMIN PUECH
Benoit Jamin and Isabelle Puech met while working at a prestigious design house and began their eponymous company in 1990, working from their small flat only to be carried two years later in Bergdorf Goodman in NY, Corso Como in Milan and Joyce in Hong Kong. In 1993, their collections graced the runway presentations of Chanel, Chloé, Lagerfeld, and Balmain. In 1996, Jamin Puech opened its first flagship store in Paris and has since opened three more boutiques in the exclusive neighborhoods of Saint-Germain, the Marais and rue Cambon, and recently a concession in Le Printemps. Internationally, the brand has stores in London, Tokyo, Osaka, Milan, Barcelona and recently opened a larger store in New York’s Soho (Prince Street). In addition to their own boutiques, Jamin Puech is distributed all over the world, across about 300 select stores.
INSPIRATION
In a market that is becoming more and more uniform, personalised and precious handbags have conquered the public. Creativity and quality allowed Jamin Puech to build up a strong image of designing unique handbags. Very often being the source of new trends and looks, they have always managed to distinguish themselves by constant creation of new models. Bags are the perfect fashion item for Isabelle’s and Benoit’s creative world; their shape, materials, textures and ornaments allow this young couple to express their creativity and imagination freely. Whilst retaining its own identity, the trademark Jamin Puech relies constantly on new inspirations to create surprises. The Jamin Puech style offers an aesthetic and poetic multifaceted world, mixing past and present, western world fashion with other cultures, precious with sophisticated. The collections also express humour and joy. Without limits, evening and day handbags exist in thousands of shapes and forms: purses, pouches, reticules, shopping bags, clutch bags, bags or satchels.
They are made of traditional materials as well as of modern ones and mix raffia, rattan, macramé, wood, nacre, horn, plastic, rhodoid, with simple cottons or precious silk. Their approach to ornaments is baroque, fun, festive or modern, it confirms and reasserts the Jamin Puech label. All this makes a sophisticated finishing, that will be just as refined on the inside as on the outside of the bag. The décor inside our boutiques is renowned for its originality and also reflects this particular universe, which Isabelle and Benoit create and re-create.
A Paris Designer’s Artful Lair
Fashion designer Cordelia de Castellane mixes playful colors with A-list art
Written by Dana Thomas • Photographed by Roger Davies • Produced By Cynthia Frank
If Paris needed an It girl at the moment, Cordelia de Castellane would fit the bill. She is one of the city’s reigning beauties: a former model with hazel eyes and thick dark hair that she swings perfectly as only a true Parisian can do. What’s made this lissome daughter of Count Henri de Castellane one of the talks of the town, however, is her popular children’s-wear company, CdeC.
“I wanted to do a kids’ line that was affordable and refined, and sold in a beautiful boutique with luxurious packaging and good service,” Castellane says over a cup of hot chocolate near her flagship store on rue du Bac in the 7th arrondissement. (She also has shops in Madrid, Geneva, Brussels, and her mother’s hometown, Athens, and does a brisk business online.) Prices of CdeC’s knit shifts, crisp white shirts, and smart cashmere-blend sweaters run from 25 to 40 euros apiece ($30 to $50), a fraction of what competitors Bonpoint and La Châtelaine charge. Which goes a long way to explain why sophisticated but cost-conscious parents have been flocking to Castellane’s shops.
At the same time she and her business partner, Ségolène Gallienne, were getting the clothing business off the ground, the designer was also settling down in a 2,200-square-foot apartment in the 16th arrondissement with banker Igor de Limur, whom she married in December. In the hyperconnected world of high society, it’s not a surprise that one of the things the couple has in common is a link to fashion designer Emanuel Ungaro: Limur’s mother, Catherine, was the firm’s director of couture for decades, and Castellane worked there as a model and public-relations executive. “I started at Ungaro when I was 16,” Castellane remembers. “The seven years I spent there was the loveliest time of my life. It formed me for what I do today.”
The designer’s heritage played a part too: Her mother, Atalanta, was a decorator; she is a cousin of Victoire de Castellane, jewelry designer for Christian Dior; and she’s a great-grandniece of Emilio Terry, an architect whose neoclassical extravagances kept midcentury France rapt with admiration. And not only did Castellane work in the couture business, she married into it—her former husband and father of her two sons is fashion scion Hubert Lanvin.
Given how Castellane and Limur have been steeped in chic since their respective childhoods, decorating the apartment was a cinch. The anchors are white linen sofas bought in Portugal, plastic reproductions of Henry Massonnet’s classic Tam Tam stool, and crisp-looking floor lamps found at the Conran Shop. “Clean and modern” is how Castellane describes the place, located in one of those grand Haussmannian buildings that became a hallmark of Paris in the mid 19th century. But its aristocratically scaled rooms are not aloof, she says: “We like things to feel warm and lived-in.”
And lively too. The newlyweds jazzed up the flowery Louis XV Revival architecture with sassy contemporary art, some of which was tracked down for them by Brussels gallerist Willem Vedovi. “We’re completely obsessed by art and travel for it,” Castellane says. Among the pieces in the growing collection are embroidered works composed of geometric shapes and letters by Italian conceptualist Alighiero Boetti and a comical Bearbrick statue customized by Karl Lagerfeld with a faux-Chanel suit. Castellane also bought several of Takashi Murakami’s smiling-flower cushions last year after she toured the Japanese artist’s exhibition at the Brooklyn Museum of Art. In the television room, which serves as sons Stanislas and Andreas’s play area, hang four large Warhols of Marilyn Monroe. To accentuate the Pop portraits’ vibrant colors, they are displayed against black walls (the shade is Down Pipe by Farrow & Ball) and above a sofa upholstered in dark aubergine velvet (purple is the designer’s favorite color). The rest of the apartment, however, sports the girlish pastels that are the preferred palette of the lady of the house. As Castellane explains with a laugh, her husband puts up with the sugary tones “as long as there is not too much pink.”
Artful furniture is another part of the package. In the entrance hall sparkles a mirror sculpture by Elizabeth Garouste and Mattia Bonetti, “one of the last pieces they did,” notes Castellane, who owns a console by the pair too. She’s also mad for anything to do with setting a table: “I buy glasses everywhere I turn.” Her dinner service is a sentimental choice, Christian Dior’s Muguet porcelain. Castellane bought it in honor of her father, who was born on May 1, the day the French traditionally give muguets (lilies of the valley) to friends and family. But these casual comforts may already be a thing of the past. The couple has been planning to move to a larger flat on the other side of the Seine, where the candy colors will be rarer—Limur, a fan of photographs of Africa, specifically the works of Peter Beard, has spoken. As his wife says with a grin, “It will be gray walls and black floors!”
Written by Dana Thomas • Photographed by Roger Davies • Produced By Cynthia Frank
If Paris needed an It girl at the moment, Cordelia de Castellane would fit the bill. She is one of the city’s reigning beauties: a former model with hazel eyes and thick dark hair that she swings perfectly as only a true Parisian can do. What’s made this lissome daughter of Count Henri de Castellane one of the talks of the town, however, is her popular children’s-wear company, CdeC.
“I wanted to do a kids’ line that was affordable and refined, and sold in a beautiful boutique with luxurious packaging and good service,” Castellane says over a cup of hot chocolate near her flagship store on rue du Bac in the 7th arrondissement. (She also has shops in Madrid, Geneva, Brussels, and her mother’s hometown, Athens, and does a brisk business online.) Prices of CdeC’s knit shifts, crisp white shirts, and smart cashmere-blend sweaters run from 25 to 40 euros apiece ($30 to $50), a fraction of what competitors Bonpoint and La Châtelaine charge. Which goes a long way to explain why sophisticated but cost-conscious parents have been flocking to Castellane’s shops.
At the same time she and her business partner, Ségolène Gallienne, were getting the clothing business off the ground, the designer was also settling down in a 2,200-square-foot apartment in the 16th arrondissement with banker Igor de Limur, whom she married in December. In the hyperconnected world of high society, it’s not a surprise that one of the things the couple has in common is a link to fashion designer Emanuel Ungaro: Limur’s mother, Catherine, was the firm’s director of couture for decades, and Castellane worked there as a model and public-relations executive. “I started at Ungaro when I was 16,” Castellane remembers. “The seven years I spent there was the loveliest time of my life. It formed me for what I do today.”
The designer’s heritage played a part too: Her mother, Atalanta, was a decorator; she is a cousin of Victoire de Castellane, jewelry designer for Christian Dior; and she’s a great-grandniece of Emilio Terry, an architect whose neoclassical extravagances kept midcentury France rapt with admiration. And not only did Castellane work in the couture business, she married into it—her former husband and father of her two sons is fashion scion Hubert Lanvin.
Given how Castellane and Limur have been steeped in chic since their respective childhoods, decorating the apartment was a cinch. The anchors are white linen sofas bought in Portugal, plastic reproductions of Henry Massonnet’s classic Tam Tam stool, and crisp-looking floor lamps found at the Conran Shop. “Clean and modern” is how Castellane describes the place, located in one of those grand Haussmannian buildings that became a hallmark of Paris in the mid 19th century. But its aristocratically scaled rooms are not aloof, she says: “We like things to feel warm and lived-in.”
And lively too. The newlyweds jazzed up the flowery Louis XV Revival architecture with sassy contemporary art, some of which was tracked down for them by Brussels gallerist Willem Vedovi. “We’re completely obsessed by art and travel for it,” Castellane says. Among the pieces in the growing collection are embroidered works composed of geometric shapes and letters by Italian conceptualist Alighiero Boetti and a comical Bearbrick statue customized by Karl Lagerfeld with a faux-Chanel suit. Castellane also bought several of Takashi Murakami’s smiling-flower cushions last year after she toured the Japanese artist’s exhibition at the Brooklyn Museum of Art. In the television room, which serves as sons Stanislas and Andreas’s play area, hang four large Warhols of Marilyn Monroe. To accentuate the Pop portraits’ vibrant colors, they are displayed against black walls (the shade is Down Pipe by Farrow & Ball) and above a sofa upholstered in dark aubergine velvet (purple is the designer’s favorite color). The rest of the apartment, however, sports the girlish pastels that are the preferred palette of the lady of the house. As Castellane explains with a laugh, her husband puts up with the sugary tones “as long as there is not too much pink.”
Artful furniture is another part of the package. In the entrance hall sparkles a mirror sculpture by Elizabeth Garouste and Mattia Bonetti, “one of the last pieces they did,” notes Castellane, who owns a console by the pair too. She’s also mad for anything to do with setting a table: “I buy glasses everywhere I turn.” Her dinner service is a sentimental choice, Christian Dior’s Muguet porcelain. Castellane bought it in honor of her father, who was born on May 1, the day the French traditionally give muguets (lilies of the valley) to friends and family. But these casual comforts may already be a thing of the past. The couple has been planning to move to a larger flat on the other side of the Seine, where the candy colors will be rarer—Limur, a fan of photographs of Africa, specifically the works of Peter Beard, has spoken. As his wife says with a grin, “It will be gray walls and black floors!”
Country Chic
When the weekend rolls around, award-winning accessories designers Richard Lambertson and John Truex leave Seventh Avenue behind for their handsome house in the pastoral Berkshires.
Written by Dan Shaw • Styled by Lili Abir Regen • Photographed by Pieter Estersohn • Produced By Anita Sarsidi
It's not surprising that John Truex and Richard Lambertson compare their Sharon, Connecticut, weekend house to one of their sought-after handbags. After all it is the success of the couple's luxury leather-goods company that has made it possible for the designers to have a country place that is as perfectly tailored as the accessories they produce for such fans as Debra Messing and Mary J. Blige.
"Our bags are all about the insides -- the key fobs and the construction," says Truex, he of the shaved head and ready grin. "You are buying one because of how it makes you feel. A bag or a house is like any luxury," he continues. "You have to experience it to appreciate it, and we use every inch of this house, from the roof to the basement."
The pair, who have been together for 14 years and have side-by-side desks in the home office off the kitchen, share the same fine-tuned aesthetic sense. But Lambertson and Truex's individual philosophies about apportioning their time in the country are very different -- though each is a firm believer in Saturday night dinner parties and Sunday morning tennis games. "The two things that sold us on the house were the tennis court and the barn," explains the blond, affable Lambertson, adding that the nine wooded acres are pretty nice too.
"A weekend for me is having a weekend," says Truex, who keeps a horse at a local stable. "I like to ride and hang out over there. I need a couple of days to recharge. Falling asleep in the sunroom while reading a book is absolutely ideal." Lambertson, on the other hand, spends his off time busily juggling multiple hobbies, namely decorating, gardening, cooking, and shopping. And his mellow demeanor belies the fact that he squeezes in work every weekend as well. "I am better when I am doing ten things at once," he notes as he sweeps leaves off the front steps with a handsome broom made in Thailand. That broom is one of the offerings at Privet House, a quirky antiques-and-home-furnishings store in the nearby town of Warren that Lambertson opened in May with his friend Suzanne Cassano -- a venture that gives him another excuse to go antiquing and to create vignettes with beautiful objects.
Lambertson's taste was refined during his years designing for Geoffrey Beene, Gucci, and Bergdorf Goodman, but his hands-on creative approach can be traced to his first job in New York, where he worked in the visual-display department of Saks Fifth Avenue. Though his house seems supremely composed to the casual visitor, it is actually a laboratory of sorts. Lambertson is always tweaking tabletop arrangements and shifting furnishings. More than once a purchase has sparked a decorative brainstorm that led him to rearrange an entire room after dinner, often with the assistance of Michael Trapp, an antiques dealer and garden designer who is known for his refined eye.
The stone-and-wood house looks imposing with its slate roof and stately English-style brick chimneys -- "It was supposedly designed by Phelps Barnum, an architect who renovated the Round Hill Club in Greenwich," Lambertson says -- although its core is an early-19th-century schoolhouse that has been transformed into a guest room and dining area. The rooms are large yet cozy, and almost every one has a view of the garden. When the men refurbished the kitchen they added a window seat that makes visitors feel like they are sitting amid the plants outside. They also created a vast island with a cooktop, so the designers and their guests often never make it into the dining room. As Lambertson explains, "Everyone sits around the island and eats things right out of the pan as I cook them."
The spot that visitors and owners alike gravitate to most is the library, a formerly low-ceilinged space that has been opened to the rafters. That impressive alteration not only gave the room a breathtaking scale, it necessitated the installation of steel tension cables that stretch from wall to wall to keep everything from collapsing. Someone else might have tried to hide those crucial supports, but "we like the rawness of them," Truex says. "Industrial aspects like those are layered throughout the house."
Almost every single piece of furniture was purchased especially for the home, from a metal bureau that has an 18th-century French air to a table whose base is made from a 19th-century camera stand. "Our previous house was Federal, and nothing we had looked good here," says Lambertson, adding that he did not mind having yet another reason to go shopping while his partner was off riding.
"We're like yin and yang," says Truex, noting that the master bath has a shower (for him) and a large tub (for Lambertson). "Richard does most of the decorating, but I appreciate it. I can just hang out because he has made everything ready to enjoy."
Written by Dan Shaw • Styled by Lili Abir Regen • Photographed by Pieter Estersohn • Produced By Anita Sarsidi
It's not surprising that John Truex and Richard Lambertson compare their Sharon, Connecticut, weekend house to one of their sought-after handbags. After all it is the success of the couple's luxury leather-goods company that has made it possible for the designers to have a country place that is as perfectly tailored as the accessories they produce for such fans as Debra Messing and Mary J. Blige.
"Our bags are all about the insides -- the key fobs and the construction," says Truex, he of the shaved head and ready grin. "You are buying one because of how it makes you feel. A bag or a house is like any luxury," he continues. "You have to experience it to appreciate it, and we use every inch of this house, from the roof to the basement."
The pair, who have been together for 14 years and have side-by-side desks in the home office off the kitchen, share the same fine-tuned aesthetic sense. But Lambertson and Truex's individual philosophies about apportioning their time in the country are very different -- though each is a firm believer in Saturday night dinner parties and Sunday morning tennis games. "The two things that sold us on the house were the tennis court and the barn," explains the blond, affable Lambertson, adding that the nine wooded acres are pretty nice too.
"A weekend for me is having a weekend," says Truex, who keeps a horse at a local stable. "I like to ride and hang out over there. I need a couple of days to recharge. Falling asleep in the sunroom while reading a book is absolutely ideal." Lambertson, on the other hand, spends his off time busily juggling multiple hobbies, namely decorating, gardening, cooking, and shopping. And his mellow demeanor belies the fact that he squeezes in work every weekend as well. "I am better when I am doing ten things at once," he notes as he sweeps leaves off the front steps with a handsome broom made in Thailand. That broom is one of the offerings at Privet House, a quirky antiques-and-home-furnishings store in the nearby town of Warren that Lambertson opened in May with his friend Suzanne Cassano -- a venture that gives him another excuse to go antiquing and to create vignettes with beautiful objects.
Lambertson's taste was refined during his years designing for Geoffrey Beene, Gucci, and Bergdorf Goodman, but his hands-on creative approach can be traced to his first job in New York, where he worked in the visual-display department of Saks Fifth Avenue. Though his house seems supremely composed to the casual visitor, it is actually a laboratory of sorts. Lambertson is always tweaking tabletop arrangements and shifting furnishings. More than once a purchase has sparked a decorative brainstorm that led him to rearrange an entire room after dinner, often with the assistance of Michael Trapp, an antiques dealer and garden designer who is known for his refined eye.
The stone-and-wood house looks imposing with its slate roof and stately English-style brick chimneys -- "It was supposedly designed by Phelps Barnum, an architect who renovated the Round Hill Club in Greenwich," Lambertson says -- although its core is an early-19th-century schoolhouse that has been transformed into a guest room and dining area. The rooms are large yet cozy, and almost every one has a view of the garden. When the men refurbished the kitchen they added a window seat that makes visitors feel like they are sitting amid the plants outside. They also created a vast island with a cooktop, so the designers and their guests often never make it into the dining room. As Lambertson explains, "Everyone sits around the island and eats things right out of the pan as I cook them."
The spot that visitors and owners alike gravitate to most is the library, a formerly low-ceilinged space that has been opened to the rafters. That impressive alteration not only gave the room a breathtaking scale, it necessitated the installation of steel tension cables that stretch from wall to wall to keep everything from collapsing. Someone else might have tried to hide those crucial supports, but "we like the rawness of them," Truex says. "Industrial aspects like those are layered throughout the house."
Almost every single piece of furniture was purchased especially for the home, from a metal bureau that has an 18th-century French air to a table whose base is made from a 19th-century camera stand. "Our previous house was Federal, and nothing we had looked good here," says Lambertson, adding that he did not mind having yet another reason to go shopping while his partner was off riding.
"We're like yin and yang," says Truex, noting that the master bath has a shower (for him) and a large tub (for Lambertson). "Richard does most of the decorating, but I appreciate it. I can just hang out because he has made everything ready to enjoy."
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