October 06 2010
Recently there has been a spate of trade shows and exhibitions related to design. I try to attend at least some of them, and when I do, I realise that I am an alien, an accidental tourist in the world of interior design. My background as an architect has left me slightly bemused by the swags, tails and trims that form the lifeblood of the interior design world.
This is a world run by an Amazonian tribe of women who rule their chiefdom with a tightly-held book of contacts and a fiercely protective client list. We men are the secondary race, a breed of pugs on leashes being led around the halls at Decorex where one is welcomed with the warmth accorded to a condom-seller in a convent. I want to shout out, “It’s only paint and fabric, for crying out loud.”
As always, there is something worth looking at; I go to a speech that decorator Jean Louis Deniot is giving. His work is gorgeous and with typical forward planning Decorex have left the audience in the dark – or rather the light, as the theatre is so bright, the audience cannot make out a single image on the over-exposed visuals. The previous speaker, Martyn Lawrence Bullard, fell back on a repartee of, “So I was on the phone to Cher when Elton called, so I had to put her on hold and since I was just about to have lunch with Tamara Mellon while en route to meet Sharon Osbourne…” There was more name-dropping than at a Kelly Hoppen launch, but it did make us laugh.
To the lovely Sue Crewe’s party for House & Garden at Philips de Pury, populated by hungry-looking strays or over-fed pooches desperate for the next job. Again running into my friends we laugh like (blocked) drains and see what a ridiculous world we inhabit.