Neonsense

Neon makes me as happy as an Old Skool Raver and can give any scheme or outfit that oooh factor. A teapot flocked in neon green or a Chesterfield upholstered in a neon, orange velvet can provide the necessary jolt to one's habitat, if feeling a little staid but not in need of a massive overhaul.

I recently designed a lighting installation for a friend following an obsession with Glow Doodle on my i-phone, an application that even the most hardened luddite would find impossible not to enjoy. At the touch of an index finger you simply scrawl any epigram, word or profanity of choice onto the screen, email to my mate Steve at Electro signs and hey presto: a piece of flickering, sentimental yet slightly seedy gaudiness to hang on your wall.

Emery et Cie

I was introduced to this line by Retrouvius, who house a mini Emery et Cie concession within their warehouse. I was struck by a vivid, peacock blue sample tile and since then I have subscribed to their monthly newsletter and diligently visit the flagship store when foraging around for antiques in Bruxelles: a city of many quirks and surprises (that is a whole other blog). Feast your eyes on this month's current palette: a range of inky aubergines and plums. The paints are highly pigmented which is perfect for buttering up any absorbent surface for a rough yet luxe finish.

Mouldy

Who would have thought that a humble jelly mould could garner such admiration? I found several in TRAINSPOTTERS of Stroud. Jesse and his team are my all time favourite salvage geeks, this particular beauty originates from France circa 1920, it looks like it has been dipped in a vat of mercury. An exciting Queens Park renovation shall be the proud bearer of such a jewel, transforming its sombre Victorian corridor into an ambient and slightly surreal gallery space.

Last Days

I relish marching through meadows of dew drenched grass, the discordant buzz of woozy wasps hovering over fermented fallen fruit, breezy evenings that quietly announce Autumn's imminent arrival and the golden vastness everywhere. The last days of Summer should be celebrated not mourned.

Signs

I love signs: shop, railway, municipal, pretty much anything with an impressive or unusual font. This particular acquisition was spotted rusting away on a formica table outside a nameless treasure trove on the Lillie Road in Fulham. The sign' s provenance is unknown, could have been salvaged from the car or cigarette factory, I have no idea if Bristol cars or cigarettes are even synonymous with one another. The beauty of a piece like this is that you invent the story. I see it glowing and flickering majestically outside a gentlemen's drinking salon circa 1960. I have since revived the unearthly green phosphorescence, looks wild yet quite lonely in a darkened room.