From THREE-OWWW To THREE-OOH!

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It was a whirlwind of a weekend!

So, I crossed into the darkside last Wednesday by marking a whole 30 years on the planet. Yeah, to say I have been grappling is to put it mildly––woe WAS me. I WAS in such a dismal state about this, you'd swear I thought turning 30 was the beginning of the end and that in my slumber, deep crows feet and mouth wrinkles would appear at the stroke of midnight. Little did I know, it's the beginning of well––the beginning! **Or, at least this is the gospel according to my glamaw, and I take what she says suurrriouzzly.

Only one way to combat this 30 year glitch––throw a party! Do it! So I enlisted the help of Mr. Trapped and got to planning right away. I know, sounds pathetic to plan your own party, right? Truth be told, I'm WAY too much of a control freak to let someone else do it, and dreaming up ideas for parties gets me all warm and fuzzy. My friends know me well enough to just let me do my thing––or so I thought.... read on to see how this bit me in my rapidly flattening butt big time. 

We decided to throw a zydeco brunch over at our house (could I be ANY more of a masochist? I mean, seriousssslllllaaaayyyy) 


**A local hot-spot, Café des Amis does a Zydeco Breakfast every Saturday with live music, so how appropriately cheesy to say Café des Ah-V for the party––I couldn't help myself ;) And if you ever visit you HAVE to go to the real Zydeco Breakfast, trust me...it's a blast!

If you don't know what zydeco is, then please listen up––Zydeco is a regional style of music, and by regional, I mean indigenous to the creole and cajun area of the state––aka Acadiana (Cajun Country) where I have been born, raised and where I live eat and breathe zydeco every chance I get. 

A video by Clifton Chenier––arguably the biggest legend in Zydeco history. I see you dancing in your seat! You can't help but move at least something, when you hear this, right?

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Ahem, back to me. So of course it couldn't be just any party, I had to make things super hard on myself and do this, do that, oh what about this? That? Oh, sure I can run around 50 million places. Pre-made quiche? You outta ya crazy mind, I can make that. Cake I've never attempted to make? Got that too. And of course everything had to be stylized TO DEATH.

THE ONE SMALL SNAFU:

Unbeknownst to me–– my friends, my mother (visiting from Florida) and Mr.Trapped were plotting a surprise birthday party for me on the Friday night. Get that? The night before the brunch, there was another surprise party! I was blindfolded, driven around for 30 minutes, made very nervous, and almost fainted when everyone shouted SURPRRRRRRISEEEEE!!!

When in doubt, dress up. You should have seen what Mr.Trapped almost let me leave the house in until I pressured him for an appropriate dress code. 

Friends, that is the face of a control freak after being kept in the dark for 30 minutes. They said it looked like they might as well have had butcher knives coming at me ;) My friends are a funny lot. 

Suprise Birthday photos generously taken by who other than Gwen!

My poor husband......he worked like a dog to pull this off! My friends too! My mom too!! How they kept it from me is beyond my comprehension. I was flattered beyond words. I was too nervous to cry. I saw friends I had not seen in months, friends who told big lies to me and said they couldn't make the brunch etc., etc. 

The poor things didn't know WHAT to do when I foiled all of their plans and came up with the brunch. They were already knee-deep in planning and decided to just trudge forward knowing that I'd figure them all out if they tried to get me to move my enagagement around (I'm stubborn AND super perceptive, a very dangerous combination I suppose).

The morning after 
{Oh, I only had a wee sip of wine the whole night. Or two bottles. Or three}

photo courtesy of bella sugar


Me: %$%#!@#!#@%$$(*&*%%!!!!!! OMGGGGG, I have 32,473 things to do before 11 a.m.
and it's 8:07––ughhhhhhhh.

Needless to say, I didn't do yoga that morning.

Me: YOU CAN DO IT. YOU'RE THIRTY NOW. YOU CAN DO ANYTHING. BECAUSE  THIRTY MEANS YOU ARE AT AN ALL TIME LEVEL OF MATURITY AND GRACE. {The pep talk was the only thing keeping the hangover at bay}


WRONGGGGG!! My awesome neighbors, mom, dad, friends, aunts saved my hiney BIGTIME. I owe them in a huge way. THAT makes me want to cry.

 pronounced {gree-yahds}

So the THREE-OWW, became the THREE-OOH really quickly. What was most exciting about this whole turn of events was how it gave me the opportunity to reflect on the many people in my life who are SO generous, selfless, so gracious, who would do almost anything for me {and I for them of course} I feel so fortunate, loved and overwhelmed––it was a really touching and humbling past week y'all {sniff sniff} With all of this goodness around me, the thought of aging is a mere wrinkle in my memory––and with that said, I'm more than thrilled about what my thirtayyy's will bring––it don't seem so bad afterall :)




xoxo,


Andrea (ol' hag)

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Give The Man Some Space, Sheesh!

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I know, I've been holding this reveal hostage for longer than I'd like to admit and keeping you people waiting with baited breath, haven't I? {I'm so full of jokes today}

Remember Gwen Aucoin? The fab photographer? Well, she is a supadupa busy gal and so well worth the wait that we just got around to a lil' photoshoot just a few weeks ago. I am so pleased with her talent––she never disappoints!

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 the scene:

 Husband's Client Meeting Space

the project deets:

Create a nice and sophisticated meeting space with a budget of $3.67 and not a penny over 

{Okay, more like $5.00, but who's counting?}

{Okaaaayyyy, seriously––we had NOTHING to work with and the walls were painted  granny's muumuu-mulberry on some walls, and I-wear-highwaisted-pleated-chinos-and chacos-beige on others. Horrors. 

the concept:

 Warm, welcoming, pared down, light, airy, stupidly inexpensive yet nicely appointed. 

   design challenges:

WAY too many to list––remember this post when I urged every last one of you to take my heed and nevahevahEVAHHHH do your own upholstery? This was nearly the death of me––no lie. If I could have stapled my hand to my leg to get out of doing it I would have, but I was in too deep to turn back! 

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 a little about the actual space: 
 My husband is a real estate broker––for years he's worked out of the house alongside moi and it's been fab and his needs were very simple–– however, recently his business started to grow rapidly {great!} and he has expanded, which is incredible! It was time for a more professional space ya know? He nor his agents needed an 'officey-office' they just needed a meeting space to have clients over for an hour or two, have coffee, write contracts, etc. So, I set out to design a place for them to feel comfortable, sort of at home, and for clients to feel calm while they were signing their lives away........

Onyx eggs––I got them for a steal!!!!! I was veddy excited when I saw them+the insane price.  I purchased the grass-cloth on eBay, the lamp was nasty with a white body, brass base and dingy shade–– but a little bit of rust-o-leum and spray paint fixed that right up. 

Another accessory I got for a song, these wooden gourd-y, cactus-y deals were a smokin' $12.99.  I went slummin' and found several old beat up books that worked perfectly––all for under $30. 

And voila! The reception area––simple, understated and comfy. To save even more $$ I had to do the artwork myself! Oh, and of course make the arrangement myself too––what I thought would be a manageable task-list ended up being one of those lists that kept exploding––like bread with too much yeast––growingandgrowingandgrowing. I look back with fond memories now, but at the time I was totally about to rip my eyebrows off ;) 

I love how Gwen finds ordinary details and photographs them in such a beautiful way. 

Chairs: Ikea, $39.99 a piece. Remarkably comfortable even though they don't look it. 

Hey, hey is that a giclée? Sho nuff. I was ecstatic that it blended so well. When I ordered it, I became stricken with anxiety that it would come in purple, but it didn't and I let out a big sigh of relief when it was nice and grey like I thought it was :)

On another slummin' excursion I found that trophy for fah bux––snapped that baby right up. 

Yessssss, I know––cardinal sin––flauxrals, but if you can promise me you will go there 2x a week and replace China's best with fresh fleurs, then we can talk––otherwise they are staying ;)

Every time he comes home from the place he tells me no less than 3 times how much he LOVES it–– which makes me feel so good, so lucky and so happy to have done this for him. A satisfied client, no matter if he is your huzzben, is what makes everyday better than the one before it. 

  Çes't tout! 

xoxo,

andrea

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A Visit to Hemingbough And A Birthday Party For The Dapper Mr. Hunt Slonem

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Hemingbough

"As a word, Hemingbough cannot be found in any dictionary, because it is beautifully undefinable." 

Hemingbough. The name just rolls off one's tongue as easily as mint julep on a languid afternoon, doesn't it? It sounds so astute, so proper, so pedigreed. Well, it is all of those things and so much more. The story of Hemingbough is nothing short of interesting and I am so thrilled to be able to take you along for this mini-vacation in one of the deep-south's most charming cities––St.Francisville, Louisiana.

My love affair with Hemingbough started in the spring of 07' when Mr.Trapped and I were set to celebrate our 1st anniversary.

 {I changed his moniker from Mr.Hotpiece because I caught some flack from a prudish lady that I know who alluded to me that I was speaking 'inappropriate' talk...you know who you are, winkwink}

A great friend of mine told me the story of this magnificent piece of land, with all of these beautiful buildings and peacocks, and formal gardens andandand, and it's where her wonderful husband proposed to her––it was called Hemingbough. Yes! Our one-year anniversary was right around the corner and this seemed juuust right. Once I trolled around the internet checking out all I possibly could on the place––it being our 1st anniversary and all, it had to be PERFECT!  More than perfect, as perfect as perfection could be! There was only one 1st anniversary and we were going to make that baby memorable. And so it was. I couldn't imagine a better place have spent the celebration of one whole year of marital bliss.  

This past Sunday I was fortunate enough to be able to travel back to Hemingbough and spend the day there with friends and guess who?? Hunt Slonem! Remember him from this post? The owners of Hemingbough are great friends with Hunt and enjoy collecting his art, so what better place than theirs to host a birthday party. And a lovely party it was––the food, the company, and some deliciously mysterious cocktail that I thought I'd get myself into trouble with. But alas, I behaved like a lady and all was dandy ;)

The story of Hemingbough is one of hard work, vision {great vision} and knowing exactly what one wants his life to be and following it through to make it happen. That takes tenacity, y'all.

The owners were SO SWEET––yet sort of camera shy–– so I'm not sure if they want their names plastered all over Andrea V's bloggy–– so let's just say: They are handsome, full of zest, down to earth,  trés humble and I admire their approach to this thing called life. 

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The story I was told was this: Once upon a time, the owner of Hemingbough took a giant risk––a risk that most of us could maybe never dream of taking. He bought a plantation home that needed some serious TLC and was in line for the wrecking ball. See, whomever was responsible for re-directing the levee system in St. Francisville was none too pleased that a big ol' decaying plantation was in his way––of course, being the logical guy a levee re-director mover-man is, he decided that the plantation needed to GO, and FAST. Well, that came to a screeching halt as history would tell it!

The plantation at risk of extinction {that's what I call it anyway} was Nottoway, one of the most famed southern plantations there has ever been. Written about more times than I can count, this is one truly fine gem in our history and if it were no longer––I shudder at the thought––we would have lost one of the most impressive pieces of Greek Revival+Italianate Architecture in Louisiana––and I venture to say, the whole south.....see why below:

Nottoway

Fifty-three THOUSAND square feet!! Can you imagine???

When I saw this room for the 1st time, I was maybe 12 at most––I knew at that moment what I wanted to do with my life––and honey that ain't no hyperbole. I think it was the plaster frieze that got me, and there was no turning back, it was inconceivable. 

Let me get back to the point of the story––the YOUNG, new owner took such a leap on Nottoway that his budget was a wee bit thin, so he had to make a quick turnaround with renovations in order to generate some positive cashflow for himself––on a 3 month completion time, he had Nottoway picked up out of decay, shining her brightest and ready for the public to tour. This proved to be an overwhelming success, so much it shocked him into disbelief! The tourists were clamoring at the gates and dying to tour the beautiful Nottoway Plantation. Can you see why?

Years later, the YOUNG gentleman was approached by an interested buyer and he agreed to sell––if I remember correctly, there was a period when Nottoway was back to a private residence and no longer open for tours––it is now back in operation and is a B&B as well.

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What to do now? Not one to rest on his laurels, the gentleman acquired a 230 acre parcel of land with a big ol' swimming pool on it. There. That's it. Story over! Okay, seriously––Hemingbough was a campground before it was this meticulously manicured sanctuary with everything you are about to see. They built everything on this piece and traveled extensively–– documenting details, structures, and proportions to make their dream a reality.

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Every year, Hemingbough hosts the Baton Rouge Symphony Orchestra for an evening and also hosts an Easter Sunrise Service on Easter Sunday {I hear that the veddy suhhthehn ladies arrive in full regalia for this event––hats, gloves, the works}

The guest house––this is where Mr.Trapped and I stayed for our very 1st anniversary! It was really well appointed––very formal with floral drapery and a rice bed, pink marble vanities–– the whole bit. I regret to say that I couldn't get in to snap a few shots, but I only had a few sweet minutes to run around before the party!

This is the auditorium, where very large events take place––massive in real life. How about that boxwood garden?????? I would kill for my yard to look a fraction this sublime––instead I have this nightmare, remember? 

Check out the mullions on this window––not your mamma's mullions! These are 2x4's––so wrap your head around how huge that is! I'd say the window was 10 ft tall. Impressive is an understatement!

EVERYTHING in Hemingbough is cast plaster frieze. He worked with a gentleman out of New Orleans who built all of his own molds–– that is until that unfortunate little storm, Katrina blew in and washed them all way––sniffsniff. 

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And TAHDAH!!! Here's where the fun began! You know, Hunt Slonem is a wildly popular gent, so throwing a nice little soirée was certainly on the menu for his 29th ;) 

The highlight? Someone actually flew in Pastrami and Saukraut {my fave} from Katz's Deli in New Yawk!! I thought that was so special––truly. I mean, what a sweet gesture! What a great friend!

The dapper man himself, totally living up his birthday in his sassy yellow glasses. He glided effortlessly between conversations with all of his friends and made everyone feel more than welcome and appreciated. I was so honored to be able to celebrate with him! I can thank my great friends, whom I love dearly, for inviting me to Hunt's birthday and Hemingbough––what a grand way to spend an otherwise ordinary afternoon!

Hope you all enjoyed this! Tell me, doesn't Hemingbough seem like a little taste of paradise or what?? Aren't you just drooling to go? I know I'd love to go back this weekend––or better yet I can be the resident bon-bon eater and general sofa-decoration while lounging around in my caftan––they'll never get rid of me that way! Sounds so much better ;)


Edited to add: Ellen Kennon––a co-host of Hunt's party, also did a blogpost on the day! Check out her blog for another take on the story, as she was so kind to link my blog to hers :) She has some delicious recipes from the day too :)
xoxo,

andrea

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Why Grey Gardens *May* Be Pushed To My #2 Spot

Pin It I FINALLY watched Harold & Maude. It's been in my netflix queue for forever it seems and so I decided that it was high-time to see it the other night and could not contain my giggles––what a FANTASTIC film. Macabre, irreverent, smart, witty and poignant. I loved this film and I never thought that anything could bump GG off of my #1 slot, but H&M really might be a near close contender.

I couldn't help but notice the set design and costume design. The home was part french, part tudor/gothic; I thought that was an interesting combo, and apropos for the two characters residing within the space. Harold, a death obsessed teenager who wreaks havoc on his emotionally-absent socialite mumsie by concocting elaborate faux-suicide ploys in every corner of their gigantic mansion. Harold observes strangers funerals, drives a hearse, and has a general malaise in regards to life–– that is until he meets Maude. **I'm going to stop there, b/c I don't want to give the whole movie away if you haven't seen it ;)

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Vivian Pickles {Mrs. Chasen, Harold's mother} was a TOTAL KNOCKOUT!!! Look at her in the library with that fabulous greek-key turban. I carefully reviewed this scene 3x just to look at that outfit. *I am not nearly over greek-key if you haven't noticed ;)

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The film was shot in and around San Francisco––The Chasen's home is actually (in real life), The Rose Court Mansion, which belonged to George T. Cameron, a 20th century San Francisco politician. Most of the scenes were shot in the music room and the library, and the butler that appears in the film was the actual butler on the premises! 

This film was released in 1971, but notice how most everything in the room could easily be used today. The soft green on the boiseries remind me of this issue of Veranda––remember that one? Gadjuzzzzz. 

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Harold's sense of personal style is also remarkable. He refused to succumb to his mother's practical sensibilities, so when she did away with his prized hearse, he showed her his counter-culture soul by welding his own version of a Jaguar-hearse. **I gave Harold an air-hi-5 for this ingeniousness ;) 

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The 'drawing room' with its shocking pink drapery and  gothic/renaissance revival chairs. 

One of the BEST scenes in the movie––I completely lost it when he pulled this prank and his guests reaction was pure cinema gold. Hilarious!

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Here, Harold is coming to deliver what he considers great news to his mother, but alas––she is disapproving yet again, and of course, preoccupied. 

Her room is so feminine, soft and indulgent. Perfect for a high-brow lady, right?

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If you haven't seen Harold and Maude, I highly recommend it! Beware, though: It's kinda like a Woody Allen film, you'll either love it or hate it––but if you like satire, exuberant characters and dead-pan humor, you'll love this. Enjoy!

xoxo,

Andrea

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