The Art of The Softened Gaze

She looks at a place neither near nor far away, a destination in her mind's eye that only she can see.

(Portrait of uber-chic Marguerite Kelsey by Meredith Frampton, 1928)

He gazes softly downward, seeing nothing...and everything.

(Photographs of the alluring Duncan Grant by A. L. Coburn, 1912 )

He stares calmly ahead, book forgotten, absorbing the peace that slowly suffuses the tunnels of his mind.

(Photograph of debonair Mark Twain in 1909 via The Retronaut)

Somewhere in the middle distance, between the madding crowd and the noisy whirring of your brain, lies the land of meditation.

It's easy to get to.

Just relax, breathe and unfocus your attention.

(A little more.)

(A little more.)

(A little more.)

(A little more.)

Shhhhhhhh.

You're there.

(Portrait of singularly bohemian Karola Neher by Rudolf Schlichter, 1929)

I highly recommend it for taking the sting out of a manic Monday.

The Way They Wore

Do you ever look at the relaxed yet oh-so-chic styles of yesteryear and wish that you could find the same types of clothing today?

No need to answer.

Of course you do.

(You and I know each other quite well by now, don't we?)

I have always admired this photo of Duncan Grant in his slouchy linen jacket. It's so effortless, so breezy, so perfect for an idle summer afternoon. What else do you wear perched on a table in the garden waiting for your bohemian friends and lovers to arrive?

(Duncan Grant at Charleston House, 1930's, via here)

Thanks to my friend Megan over at Ancient Industries, I have discovered a company called Old Town that recreates vintage clothing for 21st century people with antique sensibilities.

Check out this jacket they make called "The Marshalsea." (Dickens aficionados will remember the Marshalsea as being the Victorian debtor's prison that featured heavily in "Little Dorrit"; hence, I assume, the jacket's shabby-chic vibe.) It comes in twill, linen, canvas, denim and something very intriguing called "cavalry drill."

(Grey stout twill, via here)

Isn't it so D.H. Lawrence/Thomas Hardy meets Spitalfields/the Lower East Side?

(Navy irish linen, via here)

It's perfect for wearing to dinner at Freeman's restaurant in the Bowery.

(photo via here)

And what about this smart 3/4 length coat? I find it to be both sensible and alluring, with its very 1940's, very WWII-ish, very "I'm just off to Bletchley Park to help Alan Turing crack the Enigma code" vibe.

(Ladies Cow coat, available here)

Wear it and if you're very lucky, you might even be mistaken for a Persephone Books heroine.

("Good Evening, Mrs. Craven", available here)

This smock dress will probably draw either gasps of envy or hoots of derision, and that's fine. I realize the shape is not overtly sexy (okay, it's not even remotely sexy) but to me, it's just heaving with understated style. And it has possibly the best fabric name ever.

(Jaywick dress, "Bermondsey in Bloom" fabric, available here)

Look for me wearing it on Saturday morning when Piero's on a bike ride, Luca's on a play date and I'm making a batch of scones while pretending I'm under imminent threat of an air raid.

Once again, the cover art of this Persephone book illustrates the authenticity of both the dress and its fabric palette.

("Kitchen Essays" by Gertrude Jekyll, available here)

If the dress doesn't speak to you, perhaps the smock top does.

(available here)

Golden boy writer F. Scott Fitzgerald always dressed with a certain sartorial elegance. Isn't the suit he wears in this photo with Zelda...

(Zelda and F. Scott Fitzgerald, 1921, via Time Life Pictures)

...almost a dead ringer for Old Town's "Fitzrovia"? It comes in corduroy/moleskin, wool serge, flannel or Harris Tweed. No poly-rayon here, no siree.

(Fitzrovia, available here)

Lastly, I was taken with this lovely A-line skirt and had a nagging feeling that I had a photo of one like it somewhere.

(Skirt in Harris Tweed fabric)

Sure enough, a quick look through my vintage photo albums (the ones I purchased years ago at a London flea market; for the story, click here) revealed these young women on the lawn of a grand country house. The skirt second from left looks quite similar, don't you think?

In one of those strange twists of serendipity that makes me think there are no coincidences, click HERE for the name of it.

(Skirt in navy Irish linen fabric)

Please come in...

Welcome to my blog.  First things first.  Why "A Bloomsbury Life"? 

1.  Because I have an enduring love affair with the Bloomsbury Group, those chic artistic souls who resided at Charleston House in the south of England in the 1920's.  Vanessa Bell (sister of Virginia Woolf), Clive Bell (Vanessa's husband), and Duncan Grant (Vanessa's lover).  All broke away from the uptight, judgmental mores of Victorian London and strove fill their lives with art, beauty, wit and the emancipated hedonism of rural living.

2.  Because in these uncertain and stress-inducing times, maybe it's time to refocus ourselves on the simpler things in life.  Overspending is as out as the "in" bag.  And while I've admittedly bought my share of designer purses and suffered pangs of jealousy over Rachel Zoe's archival wardrobe, I'm honestly trying to renumber my priorities.  Old habits are hard to break, but slowly and surely, I am beginning to take as much delight in watching the climbing roses grow up and around my balcony as I used to take in being first in line at the warehouse sale at Barneys.  

3.  Because although I live in citified Hollywood, California, I firmly believe that countryside living is a state of mind.  I may not have acres of green grass in my backyard, but my bare feet are just as happy treading on the early morning dew as they would be if I had boundless acreage.  Life is made up of a series of delicious moments strung together.  The more of those I can accumulate, the better.  

4.  Because the Bloomsbury Group were fearless explorers of life.  Like them, my curiosity is  fervent and deep.  I want to learn to paint.  I want to speak French unflinchingly.  I want to learn to compost.  I want to cook with confidence.  I want to know the Latin names of my favorite plants and flowers.  I want to return to India, Cambodia and Tibet.  I want to take a welly walk on a rainy August day in Scotland.  I want to read all of Cecil Beaton's diaries.  I want to do more yoga.  I want to be a better wife and mother.  I want to make my house a beautiful home.  I want to be more grateful.  We have just the merest blip of time on this planet and I want to maximize the journey.  Join me.

(Photo credits, top and bottom:  Charleston Farmhouse in Sussex, England, taken by me in August 2007)