Monday, February 13, 2012

Of areas, bow ties, hotels and linens


"Come and look," I said to the Celt as he was adjusting his bow tie. I had opened the window, chill notwithstanding, of the little dressing room earlier in the day for fresh air, whilst waiting for the inevitable rearrangement of my pocket square, the latest of the Celt's attempts to bring me, sartorially speaking, into the 21st-century - wearing one always makes me feel visible - I poked my head out to see what there was. What met my eyes was an enticing view over roofs and terraces towards the church, the Trinità dei Monti, that moors the Spanish Steps to the side of the Pincian hill.

We walked early that morning along the banks of the Tiber past the Ponte Rotto, a single-spanned midstream remnant of Rome's oldest stone bridge, up the steep slope of the Aventine hill towards the Basilica di Santa Sabina and the Giardino degli Aranci from whose belvedere one of the most beautiful panoramas of the city is to be seen.








The dressing room, as I call it, was merely an extension of the hall flanked on one side by closets - a space for suitcases on stands, convenient to the clothes hanging in the closets and large enough for the two of us to get in each other's way. In HGTV-speak, I should call that little space a "dressing area" much as a hall in many a fatuous program is called an "entry area," a living room a "living area" or, as I heard only yesterday, a tiny rectangle described as "formal living area," a rudimentary bathroom called a "bathroom area," a family room as a "family room area," and scraps of concrete and grass below the back door as a "patio area" and "garden area."

I'm not sure what happened with the kinds of programs where potential buyers ostensibly are looking at a formulaic three properties - one of which has, of course, already been bought - but it appears they are reading, in squeaky voice-over, a script from which "room" has been scoured and replaced by "area." I know words go in and out of fashion but what did this good old-fashioned word "room" do? Did it offend or is it that it does not sound grand enough?

So, in our tiny dressing area, the pocket-square demanded patience from both of us. If I had a preference, and seemingly fashion trumps all such whims, it would be for a regular handkerchief starched, pressed and placed square in the pocket and left alone for the rest of the day - if I wore one at all. Not so with the pocket-square which, for all its listless dishabille, seems to need an inordinate amount of attention and, maybe more importantly, is inhospitable toward reading glasses and all the other things men stow in a breast pocket.


Our hotel, steps away from the Piazza del Popolo, with a garden that climbed in terraces over the feet of the Pincio, and a bar I remembered seeing years ago in Architectural Digest, was once, allegedly, the favorite of the Russian aristocracy. There is nowadays little trace of what must have been the magnificence of that time, except perhaps in the architecture, now unrelentingly white. Yet the hotel has all the luxury of contemporary minimalism without the feeling of diminishment that much modern design and decoration can bring to old interiors.

Perhaps it's a peculiarly Italian sensibility, this skill in giving simplicity the air, if not the fact, of well-tailored luxury. Not so, I felt, about one hotel in London - Europe's first grand hotel it is claimed -redecorated with a "signature look" by one of London's finest, where we took tea with an Atlanta friend and her children, that had suffered the same application of contemporary drabs and whites in a not-quite-minimalist obliteration of its grand past that compared, albeit cursorily, to our hotel in Rome, appeared heavy-handed if not downright oppressive. Perhaps such a comparison is wrong, for the difference is not only one of wit - a quality the Italians have in spades when it comes to aesthetics - but in weather. London's often lowering skies and grey light can suck the life out of white, whereas Rome's frequently blue skies and golden light can make even the drabbest white sparkle with vitality.

My favorite white in the whole of Rome was that of the linen sheets at the hotel - neither the first nor the last linen sheets we'd sleep between while in Italy - heavy, thick and beautifully ironed. Cool, soft to the touch, they'd appear each day, a miracle of crisp uncreased cloth draping shy of the floor and as inviting as a long drink of cold, fresh water in the heat of summer.

16 comments:

  1. Were you at, perhaps, the Hotel de Russie? We stayed there a number of years ago anad adored it. At one point at breakfast we heard an American couple bitterly complain that the sheet were rough. When we pointed out to them that hey were linen, they could have cared less, and cinsidered them to be shoddy. Oh well. Make of it what you like. I found them sublime. Best martinits in town if you as me. Tra la!

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    1. Good morning, Reggie. We were at the Hotel de Russie and would return in a heartbeat. We stayed last year at a sister hotel in Florence, the Savoy, and decided to try the Hotel de Russie based on that experience.

      The sheets were sublime and had a good hand but, if, as perhaps was so with your fellow breakfasters, one were used more to cotton-blend, easy-care, non-iron sheets ....

      The Celt agrees about the martinis but I found the Manhattans overly sweet - that did not stop me drinking them.

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  2. I'm pretty sure I've never touched linen sheets. You sure do make me want to.
    P.S. "Dishabille" sent me to the "dictionary," a first in a while on a blog. That's a good thing, but I'm have trouble using it in a sentence.

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    1. Terry, thank you. Linen sheets are the most delicious bedding for hot summer nights much as linen clothing is the best for our hot sticky summers in the South. That it wrinkles is part of its nature, much as it is with mine - I too, wrinkle.

      I looked for you the other at the ICAA Shutze Awards at the Driving Club. Were you there?

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  3. "Areas" are I suppose the result of "open plan". Is "open plan" a euphemism for "ill-defined"?

    I agree, London must rank as one of the worst cities in the world for hotel accommodation, even when it's costing a fortune, and remains a prominent reason why I visit less frequently. I think Rome might not be a far behind second, (or any other of the otherwise "great" cities of Europe). What passes for 5* in Europe wouldn't muster 3* in Asia.

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    1. Columnist, thank you. I think "open-plan" can be a euphemism for "ill-defined" and in some cases a euphemism for "mean" but living in a somewhat open-plan flat I like the sense of space it confers.

      We are discussing remodeling again and we both resist the idea of making the place even more open-plan - making the kitchen part of the dining room. Though the kitchen is small it is perfectly adequate in size for our purposes but needs updating in terms of storage.

      The hotel in Rome, the Hotel de Russie, was perfectly adequate as were Claridges in London and the hotels in Naples and NIce - I have not yet been anywhere in Asia, much to my regret, thus I haven't any way of comparing. I wish I had.

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  4. I revel in your textile references. What’s missing is the color and texture of your pocket-square! I saw quite a few men in very visible shades of purple when I was last in Italy. When in Rome...? I too like ‘regular’ handkerchiefs and enjoy offering them as gifts to the men around me. The problem is that the recipients don’t always take as much pleasure in them as I do!

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    1. gèsbi, thank you. My pocket square, the only one I possess, is a printed silk twill and, silly to say perhaps, always makes me think of Keats' "with beaded bubbles winking at the brim - and purple-stainèd mouth." Purple/wine "stainéd" with a mosaic-like daisy pattern in a central field. Tom Ford put his name to it.

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  5. An all-white decorating scheme for a hotel is not necessarily a sure-fire formula for success; it would stand a better chance in South Beach than London, I would think, however. And linen sheets are great; they get softer over time, too. I watched HGTV when they had garden shows. Sadly, that cable network has now lost its mojo.

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    1. The Devoted Classicist, thank you. White is such a difficult color to get right and as you say, stands a better chance in places like South Beach where the light is warmer.

      I always check in with HGTV hoping there might be something, just something, that might appeal but I always check out within seconds.

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  6. Greetings from snowy Broadstairs. London hotels-I'm intrigued, do you mean The Savoy or Connaught, do share.

    Best

    Herts

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    1. Dear Snowy Broadstairs, thank you. We had tea at The Langham mainly because by the time we knew we would meet up with our friend (a neighbor from across the hall) all the afternoon tea places had been booked and The Langham was the only place with room. For a number of reasons I would not return.

      On the way back we stayed at Claridges which was a totally different experience.

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  7. Listless dishabille is a lifestyle. Embrace it! Though rooms are indeed superior to areas, with the exception of the cringe-worthy fashion for the "keeping room". That you really can keep.

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    1. Andrew, thank you. Dishabille is not for me, I'm afraid, and thank G-d, the maid totally agrees with me.

      "Keeping room" is about as silly as calling a narrow passageway lined one side with cupboards a "butler's pantry," It's just realtor/developer speak. Just nonsense!

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  8. Ah The Langham, I remember going there for a drink when it was the old BBC Club ('80s?), the main bar had a faded glory sort of charm. Claridge's: as they say, you get what you pay for!

    Best

    Herts

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  9. I have all my Italian linen bed sheets neatly stacked and put away as I no longer live in a place where they can be easily washed and ironed every week. Such was the case when I lived in NYC and had a fabulous dry cleaner around the corner. Later in Florida I had someone who ironed...you know how that is. Now, well, I guess there's me and you have just reminded me how wonderful they can be to sleep in. I have a brand new Rowenta iron and this may just be the excuse I need to break it in...

    Miss you guys...call you soon!

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