J.B. Taylor

The Best Coast.

As alerted to by Rose Apodaca . . . my ultra-chic friend and fellow Cali-style expert, THIS SUNDAY is the final day of the epic LACMA exhibit, California Design, 1930-1965: Living in a Modern Way. So if in L.A., and a lover of classic West Coast mid-century vibes, hustle down to Miracle Mile, or fear reading the exhibit book and weeping that you missed it in all its golden teak glory.

Above: Another reason to worship this exhibit . . . the rare chance to practically step inside Charles and Ray Eames' iconic living room, every piece of which has been meticulously moved from Case Study House #8, where the Eames' lived throughout their lives, starting in 1949. When touring the home's permanent location in Pacific Palisades, you may only peek through the windows, so this is a special close-up view of their tzotchkes, furnishings, and books (so many of which are the same we have on our shelves at home).

I'm so glad we took the time to experience it when last in L.A., as we exited the show bursting with creative inspiration. I'm filled with even more native Californian pride than before, and dreams of perfectly simple, handcrafted work, surf, sunshine and mod Hollywood poolside glam. Here are some shots we sneakily snapped while viewing the exhibit in March . . .

Above: Fab Paul Fusco photo, c.late-1940s, of Billy & Audrey Wilder hanging with Charles & Ray Eames in the "conversation room" of their Pacific Palisades home. Below: Art Deco Cal-Arts pamphlets.

Above: Claire Falkenstein's model for client Peggy Gugenheim's garden gates, c.1961 (they remain at Guggenheim's home in Venice, Italy). Incantation Textile by Alvin Lustig for Laverne Originals, c.1947. Below: Arches and Dome Renaissance Christmas gift boxes by Joe Hong for Joseph Magnin (San Francisco), c.1966. Kraft paper Doggie bag for Lawry's Foods, art directed by Saul Bass, illustrated by Art Goodman and Phyllis Tanner, c.1961.

Below: Mr. Taylor and my sister, Miss. Lizzie, taking in all the beauty, as well as a bitchin' 1961 Studebaker Avanti, designed by Raymond Loewy, along with three Pasadena Art Center students.

The Adamson Family.

After becoming an item in the '70s, my parents moved from their Westwood apartments into a beachside love-nest in Malibu. Yet they were sad to find, that after a while, the morning commute to their fashion jobs in Downtown L.A. via the tortoise-paced Pacific Coast Highway became unbearable. This probably had to do with the influx of celebs moving to the old Movie Colony, as well as the retro re-discovery of teen cruising, and the surfing revival, birthing a million Spicolis in search of babes and waves. So they bought a quiet house in The Valley, but took my sister and I every weekend to the 'Bu, to visit their old haunts, and let us swing on the Country Mart's jungle gym.

I have memories of building sandcastles in the Malibu Lagoon as a little girl, and being curious about the beautiful tile-worked "Adamson House" sign on the road nearby. It wasn't until reading about the home in Martha's Living, that I became aware of what an architectural gem was sitting right there on our shore.

After years of curiosity, we finally took a tour . . . exploring every nook & cranny of the castle-like tile shrine. Land developer Frederick Rindge and his enterprising wife, May, originally purchased the land on which Malibu sits in the 1800s, and after his passing in 1905, his wealthy widow began leasing surrounding property to Hollywood stars, creating the infamous Malibu Movie Colony. With that income, she invested in the founding of Malibu Potteries (c.1926), and in 1930, May's eldest daughter Rhoda married Merritt Anderson,and together they founded the successful dairy farm, Adohr (Rhoda spelled backward). after that success, they began to build her dream home on her family's property, designed under the supervision of architect Stiles O. Clements, and utilizing the talents of pottery artisans like Rufus Keeler. Though the tile factory only existed for 7 years, closing due to the Depression, the works it produced are timeless jewels that still adorn many of California's most beloved landmarks, including; City Hall, the Mayan theatre, and Hollywood's Roosevelt Hotel.

The preservation efforts are astounding . . . the family's original furniture exactly where it was placed in the 1930s, and the eye-dazzling array of colorful tile motifs all in tact, each piece hand-painted and fired using the traditional Spanish cuerda seca glazing technique. Every detail hails from that bohemian era when folks first began fantasizing about traveling to exotic locales. As a result, the decor is an eclectic blend of Spanish colonial architecture adorned with Moorish, Moroccan, Pueblo Deco (my new obsession) and Mediterranean details. Also noticeable are hand-painted Scandinavian wooden pieces, as well as gothic Nouveau-style touches (make sure to catch the iron spider web gate). Real rugs were unneeded, as Malibu Pottery artisan William Handly created full-scale custom Persian carpets made entirely of tiles for the floors. There is even an outdoor tiled tub room solely for washing the family hounds. Also not to be missed are the whimsical children's rooms, covered in fairy tale and Maritime illustrations, not to mention the tiny upstairs "snack kitchen" for guest, and the Egyptian Revival style pool house.

The Adamson House & Gardens

Tours Weds.-Sat. 11am-2pm

23200 Pacific Coast Highway, Malibu, CA

Photos: Me and Martha Stewart's Living

Fathomers Unite.

I'm thrilled to be a new contributor to the world's most bitchin' travel site, FathomAway.com. My first two pieces are now live . . . one on the whimsical Parisian tzotchke boutique, Au Petit Bonheur La Chance, as well as a questionnaire with some of my favorite travel memories and rituals.

More Fathom musings to be posted in the near future, and for a ramblin' soul whose Filson duffel never seems to make it back into the closet, this feel like a marriage made in vagabond heaven. So jazzed!

Enjoy the tips and tales, and happy trails to you!

Westward ho!

I'm heading out to visit mi familia and compadres in Los Angeles, and promise to try my hardest to write while I'm there, but I fear I may be too distracted by shopping for LPs at Wombleton, eating sushi at Nozawa's, watching movies at Cinefamily, sipping tequila rosas in the valley, and viewing Beatrice Wood's pottery, to remember to post. So, apologies ahead of time.

Off to ride into the orange coastal sunset, with my trusty Pug in tow.

Calfornia, knows how to party,

~ J.B.T.

P.S. In honor of my L.A. adventure, I'm jazzed to announce that my travel book, Vintage L.A., is currently on sale on Amazon. I'd always thought the publisher priced it at mucho dinero ($34.95), considering those who are into vintage love a good find, but the current price is a stellar steal . . . 240 jam-packed color pages for only $13.98!

Herr Judit (Stockholm, Sweden)

When in Stockholm we visited the fantastisk butiken, Herr Judit, which offers a stellar selection of vintage European and American men's garb, as well as canvas bags, leather accessories, classic boots and brogues. New independent designers are also featured in the shop, and the general vibe of the stock is either rustic-'50s-workwear, or slick mod suiting. You'll never see shop-keeps dressed in cooler preppy '80s gear, taking cues from Absolute Beginners with a bit of Dexy's Midnight Runners thrown in. We were assisted by a ridiculously good-looking lad with a perfect blonde pompadour, bleachy Levi's rolled up (no socks), and a classic oxford button-down. There is no doubt he was created in Morrissey's dreams, and had walked straight out of this video. Had the The Sartorialist seen him, he would've just passed out.

Above and below: The shop's cool decor, and me, falling in love with a crazy-heavy, square-shaped old leather suitcase that wouldn't have been a practical purchase at the beginning of a sightseeing trip. It was hard to pass up, but perhaps my magic invisibility spell worked, and it awaits me until my next Svenska visit.

Mister Taylor found the green M-65 U.S. military jacket of his dreams, and we were laughing that after all his searching in the states, he finally found the perfect one in Sweden. Further proof that all the coolest American vintage has been taken overseas. Bummer for today, but a happy surprise when you take a vacation : ) Judit also has a vintage home décor shop nearby, called Brandstationen (due to its location in an old fire station), that was tragically closed the day we visited. We can't wait to return and do some damage to our credit.

Above: Mr. Taylor in his beloved field jacket, which he wears nearly everyday, offering me the very first Swedish raspberry I've ever tasted right off the bush. It was the the most heavenly berry I've ever tasted.

Herr Judit

Hornsgatan 65, Stockholm

Tel. 08/658 30 37

Photos: J.B. Taylor

Take La Chance on Me.

When last in Paris, upon the suggestion of a friend, we strolled over to the Village St. Paul (in the Marais), to visit the absolutely addictive boutique, Au Petit Bonheur La Chance. It is one of those magical places where to walk out empty handed, you'd have to be missing a heart.

La Chance is filled to the rafters with the perfect French brocante goods of your dreams! It will tempt all the Euros out of your pocket with French striped kitchen linens, Art Deco latté cups, large antique enameled display letters, embroidered monogram ribbons, '60s teen postcards, and whimsical wind-up toys. Most of the inventory is deadstock vintage, and it's the best place to find arm-fulls of cheapy yet charming little items to bring back as souvenirs gifts for friends. We spent hours combing through wooden cabinets for inspirational paper ephemera, and blissfully acquired a bounty of Belle Epoque menus, 1930s patisserie bags (see below), school notebooks and wooden stencils.

Though if you're totally claustro like me, you'll want to wait until the shop is devoid of crowds, to avoid frantic tourists breathing down your neck (the "petit" in the the name isn't an understatement). So, to ensure good vibes, we would exit the shop when mobbed, and re-enter when the coast was clear.

This visit also made me realize that we have a total illness . . . I had planned to arrive home from France with new ballet slippers, perfumes, macarons and fancy face creams, but all we purchased was old paper. So much in fact, that we adopted another suitcase in which to bring it on the plane, in addition to the huge boxes we shipped home. I'm still kicking myself that I passed up perfect brown leather brogues at Le Bon Marché to save moolah for more obscure ol' typefaces, but c'est la vie, and vive la papier!

Au Petit Bonheur La Chance

13 Rue St. Paul (Marais)

01 42 74 36 38

Call for hours, as they are precarious.

Photos: J.B. + Nic Taylor

Pirates of The Stockholm, Sweden.

On a recent trip to Stockholm's historic Gamla Stan (Old Town), we wandered into a little antique shop in the town square, and though I hardly purchased anything during the visit (I was much too distracted by the charming architecture), I did adopt a very special piece of art that will happily remind me of my lovely Svenska-time, forever.

It's a costume sketch done in pencil and watercolors, c.1930s, with text in Swedish that translates to "Composition for pirate fantasy outfit", signed by the sweet, young artist in the bottom corner. It was love at first spot, and though I was determined not to buy anything that would prove difficult to carry home in my duffel, I couldn't whip out my 86 krona ($13) fast enough. It now hangs on the wall above my bed, yet my only wish is that I could find "Brita" and tell her just how much I adore her work.

Perhaps I've also just found the perfect Halloween costume.

Locals only.

We love to support local businesses whenever possible, so on a recent Main St. stroll, in our nearby town of Cold Spring (New York), we wandered into a couple of new boutiques, and walked out with some beautifully scented swag.

At the newly opened arts and wellness center, The Living Room, there is a wall with hard-to-find herbal medicinals, teas, and holistic beauty potions. Being that I'm a lover of unique ropes and strings (craft nerd-alert!), I freaked over the cool looking and exotic smelling, Shiva Shakti "rope incense" from Nepal ($5), as seen above.

We were also happy to discover Cold Spring Apothecary, which offers beautifully scented products for both the bod and the home. Using solely organic ingredients, everything in the shop is home brewed or made, and the location itself is gorgeous, adorned with air-plant-laden reclaimed wood shelves, hemp linen pillows, Victorian-esque tincture bottles, and a wall of locally harvested loose teas in glass jars. For our kitchen, we purchased their crisply scented Lavender White Tea candle, and I can't wait to bring home more of their intoxicating creations.

 

Rah-Rah-Reyjavík!

If planning on jetting to Europe, I highly suggest IcelandAir. Not only are the rates great, but during the mandatory Keflavík Airport lay-over, you're encouraged to delay the second-leg of your flight at no-additional cost, enabling you to sight-see in their magical country for as long as you fancy. We took advantage of this during a recent journey to Stockholm, and rented a car, and a cute apartment for two nights, smack in the center of radical Reykjavík.

The first thing we experienced upon arrival, was an early morning soak in the Blue Lagoon (of no relation to the lame 1980 Brooke Shields film), which began our visit to the land-of-trolls with languid limbs and geo-thermally glowing skin (see the lagoon above, and the results below).

 
After lagooning and noshing on fresh salmon, fruit and skyr (Icelandic yogurt, with which I'm now obsessed), we drove into Old Town Reykjavík, and picked-up double-espressos at the charming corner-café, Kaffismidja Íslands (below, left), which is furnished with mis-matched chairs, sewing tables, and an old record player to choose your own sipping soundtrack (Prince was playing when we walked in, so it was love at first latte).

We then headed over to Frida Frænka (above, right), a two-story vintage emporium located in a large wooden barn, where you can stuff your suitcase with charming finds, yet still have króna left-over for hot dogs and Brennivín. It is one of those stores where every inch is adorned with treasures, and the ceiling is covered in colored-glass lamps, making it sparkly like jewels when the sun shines through. My purchases were: mid-century glass cork-handled cocktail stirrers ($6), a dead-stock lace-trimmed white rayon slip ($20), a dead-stock roll of '70s wood-grain contact paper, ($6) and a giant gold '80s cuff bracelet that mimics gathered fabric ($8), all pictured below (along with LPs and trompe-l'oeil sweater napkins, which will be perfect for holiday cocktails).

We also went for a sunset stroll in Reykjavík's 50 year-old Botanic Gardens (above), where we saw little grass-covered Hobbit cottages, and sipped organic tea at the seasonal Café Flora. Afterward, we had a perfect dinner at Icelandic Fish & Chips, where you are given awesome dipping "skyronnaises" to accompany your organic haddock and cod, which are fried in a healthy spelt batter, so you don't feel guilty after feasting like a famished viking.

Our second day began with the sulfur-scented revelation that Iceland's tap water is pumped straight from the geothermal springs, causing all of my showering sessions to resemble an Herbal Essences commercial. It's no wonder many of the women look like they were airbrushed with stardust. I'm seriously considering moving.

The next morning, after Icelandic pastry-time . . . we took a drive, and despite the fact that we could be on Hoarders for the amount of LPs we possess, we were stoked to discover Lucky Records. It's that rare kind of music shop experience where the proprietor is sweet, you find lots of items on your dream-wish-list, the prices are kind, and the store itself is immaculate. Therefore, we walked out with a mean stack of mint-condition platters, including Amanda Lear's coveted album, Never Trust a Pretty Face, Feast by The Creatures, and Grace Jones's Warm Leatherette. It's never a good sign when you need to ship a box back home on the first day of a month-long trip, but Lucky quickly made that a reality.

 

After hours of intense record hunting, the perfect thing is to pop over to Reykjavík's legendary hot dog stand, Bæjarins Beztu Pylsur, and order one with "eina með öllu" (mustard, ketchup, sweet remoulade, and crispy fried onions). I'm actually not one to eat such atrocities, but the consensus is that you haven't really experienced Icelandic eats, if you haven't indulged, and I'm happy I did. We then took a zillion photos of the Expressionist-inspired Church of Hallgrímur, built in 1945 on Reykjavík's highest peak, watching over the city, reminding me of the massive sets for Fritz Lang's machine-age film, Metropolis.

After a walk, we dined at the popular bistro, 3 Frakkar (meaning: 3 overcoats), for hearty Icelandic comfort-cuisine. Though not as adventurous as the woman we overheard requesting seal, reindeer and puffin (I'm just glad there were no 9 yr. old girls around to hear this), we loved our creamy fish stew and smoked haddock.

After dinner I was craving a hot chocolate, yet all the coffee houses were closed, so we ventured into the Damon Albarn (Gorillaz, Blur) owned, Kaffibarinn, and the bartender not only whipped me up hot cocoa in a tall beer mug, but it was the best one I've had, ever. We sat and listened to the DJ mixing sexy beats, then returned to our happy pad to pack for Sweden. We hope to return again soon though, as there are still mountains-beyond-mountains of mystical, moss-covered things to experience, outside the city.

Vacation, all I ever wanted.

I'm back from a month-long, radical sabbatical, which took mister T. and myself on an inspirational odyssey through Iceland, Sweden, Paris and London, resulting in a museum's-worth of acquired knickknacks, nearly 2,000 snapshots, and a pair of worn-out boots.

Above: Vintage souvenirs, art supplies, and papier éphémerès found at various spots around Paris, mostly at the Porte de Vanves flea market and the boutique, Au Petit Bonheur la Chance.

So, over the next few months, I'll be posting about my most treasured vintage finds, as well as shopping and noshing spots discovered during our fantastic vintage-seeking European voyage.

And for those readers born post-1980, not yet blessed with the knowledge of what this post title is referring to, this one's for you.

Au Revoir.

Don't fret . . . I won't be gone very long, just until September, as the mister and I will be vintage hunting through Europe for the month of August, as well as taking a much needed creative sabbatical. Not to mention, it'll be my very first time visiting Paris, Iceland, Sweden, and London (can you believe it)?

Hopefully I'll find the time to post some updates during our journeys, but I'm also hopeful that I'll be having too much of an ecstatic time flea marketing, museum-ing, and eating macaroons, that the thought of using a laptop will seem totally absurd.

XO & can't wait to share new secret vintage spots and finds!

~ J.B.T.

Pirates, Jewels and Geometrics.

On a grey and misty day in Manhattan last week, the mister & I went on a lovely visit to the Cooper-Hewitt, bringing us tons of inspiration, not to mention a few extra pounds, after noshing on decadent corn arepas and plantains afterward at Caracas, one of our all-time favorite cafes in the East Village (which we always try to keep secret, but I feel so guilty not sharing the culinary love with you).

Above: Rhthme Coloré by Sonia Delaunay, (France, c.1946)

Currently on display are two gorgeous exhibits . . . Color Moves: Art & Fashion by Sonia Delaunay, and Set in Style: The Jewels of Van Cleef & Arpels. For many moons I'd been awaiting the debut of  Delaunay's exhibit, being that she is a muse of mine. . . both for her commitment to live an unconventional life as colorful as her creations, and the harmonious creative partnership she shared with her husband, painter Robert Delaunay.

(L) Sonia in her studio on boulevard Malesherbes (Paris, c.1925), and (R) a printed silk satin dress with metallic embroidery (Paris, c.1925-28)

Sonia was an abstract painter whose rainbow-hued art flourished in the otherwise cold & grey machine age. She applied her modern sensibility to textiles, clothing (including costumes for films and theatre), book bindings, and interior design. In the 1920s, she and Robert, with whom she frequently collaborated, began designing dresses described as "poems in motion", sewn of prints featuring controversial prose by Dadaist poets.

(L) Cover of La Prose du Transsibérien et de la petite Jehanne de France written by Blaise Cendrars and illustrated by Delaunay (France, c.1913), (R) sketch of Robe Poemè no. 1328 (France, c.1923)

Above: Film still from Le P'tit Parigot (which must have been a huge influence on Klaus Nomi, as well as Bowie), directed by René Le Somptier and costumed by Delaunay (France, c.1926)

Her controversial brand of couture led to much success and a storied Paris boutique, Maison Delaunay, which sold Sonia looks from top-to-toe, every time featuring her avant-garde patterns and textiles, and collected by stylish stars such as Gloria Swanson and Nancy Cunard.

A wool embroidered coat (so amazing in person, it had me entertain the thought of becoming a professional cat burglar) handmade for Gloria Swanson, (Paris, c.1923-24)

Looking at her work today, one can't believe how fresh and modern it all feels . . . there were whimsical embroidered cloches that felt totally Anna Sui, and other pieces in the exhibit that if you told me were designed by Marni or Rodarte, I wouldn't doubt it for a second.

Above: Models in Delaunay beachwear (France, c.1928), Sonia and her models in Robert's studio (Paris, c.1924), and design #253 in gouache and ink (France, c.1928-30)

And then there was the crazy ice on display in the Van Cleef & Arpels exhibit, featuring très dazzling pieces worn and loved by Elizabeth Taylor, Marlene Dietrich, Princess Grace, Jacqueline Kennedy, Doris Duke, Eva Péron, et al. Here are some choice pieces I'll be placing on my birthday list this year  . . .

Above: Kikumakie butterfly brooch (created using age-old Japanese lacquering techniques) c.2004

Art Deco Anneau (ring) brooch (Paris, 1919), and Art Deco compact (Paris, c.1928)

Stunning Lamartine bracelet, given as a gift to Dame Elizabeth Taylor (along with matching earrings, naturally) by husband Richard Burton, during a romantic visit to Geneva, c.1971. Le sigh . . .

Diamond lapel clips, inspired by the Egyptian and Mayan pyramids (Paris, c.1920)

Egyptian Odalisque evening bag, featuring quite possibly the most exquisite clasp I'll ever encounter in this lifetime (Paris, c.1927)

Vintage L.A., 2011 Edition.

 

We've happily arrived home to NY after a long and winding visit to my technicolor hometown of Los Angeles, with many a tale to tell. It was quite a whirlwind "vacation", as the mister & I had both been sick prior to the trip, so we were forced to bring our design studio along for the ride (though it's pretty hard to complain about working on your laptop, while you're lounging on a chaise in Palm Springs, which i'll post about later). We knew right from the flight that it was going to be a surreal trip . . . as after my Klonopin kicked in (neurotic flyer, to say the least), I noticed Twister Sister's Dee Snyder seated across the isle. And to make matters even wackier, not 20 min. later, we were watching him in the video for I Wanna Rock on our petit TV . . . a totally meta experience.

Immediately upon touchdown, we headed straight for In-N-Out and indulged "animal-style" (not exactly part of my usual grass-fed/farm-fresh diet, but mind-blowingly awesome anyway). And after waking up the next morning in my parent's beautifully preserved Art Deco apartment (as seen above), my mom (Moira), my sister (Lizzie) & I, headed to Paper or Plastik for potent lattes and a peek at their lovely little loft-boutique, Anyash, where I swooned over silk dresses handmade by the cafe's owner, my sweet mum bought us a little succulent-filled terrarium, and Lizzie purchased vintage paperbacks (seen below).

Lizzie & I then hit a jam-packed estate sale, where I picked up a classic Freedom Rock LP ($1) and a great novel with a fabulous '70s pop cover ($1), and Lizzie scored a green leather disco belt/necktie ($3) with stamped leaves (reminding us of these shoes).

In the afternoon we visited the historic Farmers Market to sip fresh carrot-apple juice, and shop at its adjoining mall, The Grove, where we bought Audrey Horne-esque sweaters at Anthropologie, perfect boho sandals at J. Crew, and I was elated to see my book, Vintage LA, in the front window of Barnes & Noble. Later on, we were joined by our friend Yego and our spiritual sister, Kimme at Silver Lake's Intelligentsia, and after getting crazy caffeinated, we crossed over to Pazzo for gelato.

Day three consisted of us watching Lizzie totally Tina Weymouth-ing out on her disco bass in preparation for her weekly lesson, followed by brunch at Downtown's insanely hoppin' Bottega Louie. After some work back at the ranch, and a play-date with the Pugs (Ali Baba, was in tow for the trip, and my parents are also blessed with one, aptly named Groucho), we devoured long dreamed-of tacos and hot cinnamon tea, at my all-time favorite Mexican cafe, Alegria. Then after catching up with friends at El Cid's Saturday night party, Goodie Tu-Shoes, we headed for tea at Swinger's.

 
Along with visiting our old haunts, we also discovered some new joints, like Wonderland Emporium, which is filled to the rafters with LPs, 8tracks, rare books, men's vintage clothing, and wacky collectible music memorabilia (it's also open 'till 2am, perfect for coffee addicts like us). To view photos of Wonderland, along with a gallery of snaps from our L.A. adventure,  venture HERE.

We're already planning our next trip, to visit all the vintage haunts we didn't have time to pay homage to, spend the day in Ojai (to visit Beatrice Wood's studio, who is one of my ultimate idols), and see friends we missed this time around.

Photos: "California" animation found on Silk-Rayon's Tumblr, all others = °The Vintager.

Right back where I started from.

I've got all the essentials packed (caftans, felt hats, '70s Italian leather boots, Carlos Falchi clutch, turquoise cuffs . . .), and will be leaving tomorrow morning, along with Mr. Taylor and Ali Baba the Pug, for a two week California vintaging vacation. I'm counting the minutes 'till I get to see my much-missed family in Beverly Hills, nosh at all my favorite spots (i'm particularly craving Tacos from Loteria in the Farmers Market, and Saturday morning flannel cakes at Musso & Frank are a must), and hunt for treasures all over Palm Springs and Joshua Tree. I'll try to post while i'm in LaLaLand, but if not, I promise to fill you in upon my return.

Now back to re-reading my copy of Vintage LA, just to make sure I don't forget to visit any of my magical ol' stomping grounds. Promise to be good while i'm gone! XO

The Vintager Visits: Poma Rosa (Cold Spring, NY)

Left: A  1970s needlepoint that we begged the boutique's owner to sell to us, but being that it recently helped her through a hard year, she's not ready to let it go (can you blame her)? It has to be the most magically good-vibed piece of art on Earth. Right: Another great '70s needlepoint, this one featuring a 3-dimensional spider plant, a tabby, and wicker peacock chair (about $65).

A lovely new boutique has opened not far from my home, and though it's sometimes hard to share good vintaging secrets (especially when they're local), I believe in shopping karma, so here's the low down . . . Poma Rosa is located in the quaint antiquing village of Cold Spring, New York, and it is stocked to the rafters with chic finds. Patricia, the sweet owner, has a fabulous eye for both mid-century decor and '70s attire, and i've never exited her boutique empty handed. On a recent visit I swooned over the array of Scandinavian teak furniture, kitschy 1950s landscape paintings, jazzy men's accessories, gold '80s earrings and '70s disco dresses. But the pièce de résistance, is her wall of vintage handbags, where I always score something special . . .

Above: 1950s paintings of nautical and rural country scenes, and loads of swank mens accoutrement (i'm thinking of going back for that plaid travel case, unless you beat me to it).

On recent visits we've purchased many cherished items . . . like the 1970s Italian green leather mini-doctor's bag ($65) seen below (as worn to a holiday party at Russel Wright's studio, hence the amazing birch-bark door), as well as Nic's beloved hand-knitted German wool cardigan ($85), and a tiny brass and bakelite souvenir jewelry tray from the New York World's Fair, c.1939 ($20).

Poma Rosa: 93 Main Street, Cold Spring, NY 10516