Second Chance
In his 1850 book The Architecture Of Country Houses, AJ Downing enthusiastically recommended the benefits of curtains, particularly in a Georgian or Regency house. ‘Nothing “furnishes” a room so much as curtains to the window,’ he explained. ‘They take away from the bareness of plain casings and subdue the glare of light, there are always pleasing and graceful lines in the folds of hanging drapery – even of the plainest material.’
For AJ Downing, the more chic the window dressing, the more elegant the owner lurking inside. It’s unlikely therefore that he would have admired the plastic film I recently applied to the seafacing windows in a bid to stem the draughts and dampen the noise of the neon-encrusted fairground rides on the sea front.
The summer has arrived and with it the gangs of hens and stags determined to whizz themselves into a drunken frenzy and top it off with a stomach-churning go on the Octopus. If I was on a profit share for every time I have heard the scream: ‘I can’t take it, Dave’, this house would have been renovated months ago and finished in Zoffany’s finest. As it is, I have made do with ‘shrink fit’ fake, secondary glazing welded on to the fragile frames with the heat of a hairdryer. The task fell to my children’s godfather, Darren, a choreographer – trained to balance on one leg on a wobbly, fold-up ladder. The end result is bizarre.
From the inside, it gives the feeling of being encased in a freezer bag. The outside view isn’t much better. The edges have collapsed in parts (don’t get a dancer to do your DIY), so gaffer tape has been conscripted in as supporting the cast.
Meanwhile, I continue to dream of curtains. Interiors experts advise those in the market for soft furnishings to carry around a list of their ‘essential measurements’. Rather like your dress size, your window width and drop requirements should be imprinted on your memory.
Still, some women do buy dresses that aren’t fit for purpose – but will be after a miracle diet. And some collect inappropriate curtains that will one day ‘fit somewhere’. Car-boot sales, relatives’ castoffs, second-hand shops, there are endless opportunities to own beautiful drapes at a fraction of their original cost. I currently own seven (I know, bad) pairs of these ‘will fit somewhere’ curtains; several have moved house with me on more than one occasion. All of them are packed away, waiting for one more chance to glide down the track. Sadly, the tape measure has said ‘No’.
Next week: Lunch party…
For AJ Downing, the more chic the window dressing, the more elegant the owner lurking inside. It’s unlikely therefore that he would have admired the plastic film I recently applied to the seafacing windows in a bid to stem the draughts and dampen the noise of the neon-encrusted fairground rides on the sea front.
The summer has arrived and with it the gangs of hens and stags determined to whizz themselves into a drunken frenzy and top it off with a stomach-churning go on the Octopus. If I was on a profit share for every time I have heard the scream: ‘I can’t take it, Dave’, this house would have been renovated months ago and finished in Zoffany’s finest. As it is, I have made do with ‘shrink fit’ fake, secondary glazing welded on to the fragile frames with the heat of a hairdryer. The task fell to my children’s godfather, Darren, a choreographer – trained to balance on one leg on a wobbly, fold-up ladder. The end result is bizarre.
From the inside, it gives the feeling of being encased in a freezer bag. The outside view isn’t much better. The edges have collapsed in parts (don’t get a dancer to do your DIY), so gaffer tape has been conscripted in as supporting the cast.
Meanwhile, I continue to dream of curtains. Interiors experts advise those in the market for soft furnishings to carry around a list of their ‘essential measurements’. Rather like your dress size, your window width and drop requirements should be imprinted on your memory.
Still, some women do buy dresses that aren’t fit for purpose – but will be after a miracle diet. And some collect inappropriate curtains that will one day ‘fit somewhere’. Car-boot sales, relatives’ castoffs, second-hand shops, there are endless opportunities to own beautiful drapes at a fraction of their original cost. I currently own seven (I know, bad) pairs of these ‘will fit somewhere’ curtains; several have moved house with me on more than one occasion. All of them are packed away, waiting for one more chance to glide down the track. Sadly, the tape measure has said ‘No’.
Next week: Lunch party…