J.B. Taylor

Desk(top) Set.

Hello, you! I'm sorry it's been a while, but hopefully you'll forgive me when I launch the website I've been developing for the past year (more to be revealed soon)! As a gift to you for my absence, and also in an attempt to organize my ODC-worthy desktop of infinite inspiration folders, I've decided to share/purge some recent visual finds. Enjoy!

Above: 19th century Northern School watercolor still life spotted in an auction catalog.

Jerry Hall backstage, shot by François Moyal , Paris, c.1970.

Celluloid cabana awning sunglasses by Schiaparelli, c.1957, evoking happy childhood memories of days spent by the pool at the kitschy glam Beverly Hills Hotel, and The Racquet Club in Palm Springs.

"Nautch Dancer" Illustration for Ladies Home Journal by Dan Sweeney, c.1920.

A Southwestern style dollhouse named "El Rancho Reno", built c.1935 by Thomnas Reno of Pittsburgh for his daughter, and restored in the 1970's.

Georgia O'Keeffe painting at Alfred Stieglitz's Summer home in Lake George, NY, c.1918

And for musical inspiration, I've been listening to the mixes on Magic Transistor, which functions like the vintage portable radio of your fantasies. It even simulates the knobs so you can flip stations. They play mellow mixes perfect for when you're working, all curated by various obsessive LP collectors. Today I've been swaying at my desk to John Cale, Hank Williams, Fela Kuti, Bo Diddley, The Cure, Ultravox, rare Bowie, The Supremes,  and on and on . . .

Thank you, Easter bunnies!

Love and organic Cadbury Creme Eggs (a girl can dream),

— J.B.T., Andy & Edie

And if not familiar with what this post title is in reference to . . . watch this unfortunate pop culture artifact.

Photo: Jean-Jacques Bugat, Rue Princesse, c.1966

Ballets Russes (2005)

I'm currently fighting the dreary Wintertime blues out here in our country cottage in NY—missing the California sunshine I grew-up with. So, in desperate need of colorful inspiration, I decided to re-visit the stunning documentary on the Ballets Russes (which you can view streaming here). On a grey and rainy day, like today, it's like a gold gilded treasure chest full of chromatic beauty, not only about dance, but all aspects of passion and creativity.

Above; Prima ballerina Mia Slavenska and a publicity photo of herself, taken in the 1930s. Below; two of Slavenska's characters, displaying her chamelion-like nature as a performer.

It's fabulous to see the original prima ballerinas still sassing it up, most of whom are dancing right on through their octo/nonagenarian years. How great they all look, and how vibrantly their spirits sparkle, is a testament to the grace and character one builds through a life of movement. Having taken years of ballet as a child (fueled by the movie Fame, and an early Chorus Line obsession), I sadly hung up my toe shoes in my late-teens, but watching this doc has reignited my love, and is responsible for my Ballet Beautiful membership. It's also dear to my heart, as it entertained me while recovering from a painful surgery years ago. While stuck in bed, I found it streaming on Netflix, and go absolutely lost in the Technicolor costumes (several designed by Matisse), mind-bogglingly innovative set design (mostly designed by Léon Bakst), and of course, the dancing, which is like watching the most heavenly dream.

Above; A stunning, surrealistic program for the Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo, c.1950s (possibly designed by Dali?). Below; two looks at the adorable Nathalie Krassovska.

The Ballets Russes has long been an inspiration to countless designers and artists throughout the years; designers and artists like Galliano, Anna Sui, and Sarah Sophie Flicker of The Citizens Band, have each taken cues from the deco folkloric styles of the costumes and sets. I'll soon post photos I took during a visit to the magical Dance Museet in Stockholm, where my heart pirouetted like crazy over several original 1920s Ballet Russe costumes.

Above; Salvador Dali's program for the Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo's production of Labyrinth, c.1940-41. Below; the company was home to some of the history's most celebrated dancers, including Nijinsky and Anna Pavlova, as pictured here.

If you'd like to dive deep into the story of the Ballets Russe, I recommend reading this wonderful book about the eccentric Russian impresario, Sergei Diaghilev, director and creator of this legendary company.

Don't be a drag. Participate.

Above: New years eve at Studio 54, circa 1978

A rumor has it that
It's getting late
Time marches on
Just can't wait
The clock keeps turning
Why hesitate
You silly fool
You can't change your fate
Let's cut a rug
A little jive and jitterbug
We want the best
We won't settle for less
Don't be a drag
Participate
Clams on the half shell
And roller-skates
Roller-skates

Good times
These are the good times
Leave your cares behind
These are the good times
Our new state of mind
These are the good times

Good Times, Chic (1979)

Here's to an inspiring love and disco-filled 2013 everyone! XO, J.B.T.

Did you ever see a dream, walking?

My sister & I grew-up loving our family tradition of walking down Fifth Ave. at Christmas time to check out the spectacular holiday windows. My parents were both in the fashion 'biz, so we were brought up with the sense that retailers were like temples . . . sacred places to feed our aspirations and show us glimpses of the divine. And just like midnight mass at St. Patrick's, every Winter these stores give passerby a gift of beauty, free of charge . . . brilliantly conceived portals to something magnificent. Also adding to the excitement, is the fact that all these retail temples are falling over backwards, in a competition for your love and devotion.

So as a gift to those who won't have a chance to stroll down 5th this season, I've taken snaps of the two holiday displays that really left me dazzled. First (naturally), is Bergdorf's Busby Berkeley-inspired BG Follies, with each window displaying a decadent vignette of Art Deco boudoir dollies & mini-mannequins moonlighting as chorus girls, jazz babies, Ziegfeld cuties, and mini-Earl Carroll-esque beauties holding Sally Rand-style feather fans.

Also swoon-worthy were Tiffany & Co.'s windows, which featured delicate miniature scenes of romantic Winter moments a-la Uptown Manhattan. Ingeniously conceptualized by my dear friend, Christopher Young, each scene exhibits a mind-bending attention to detail . . . from the nearly-microscopic Tiffany blue ornaments on the Christmas trees, to the tiny blue box placed in the fluffy snow on the steps leading up to an ornate little Brownstone. Each vignette, an emotional fantasy bringing me back to that wondrous feeling of wiring a dollhouse lamp into a shoebox diorama in 4th grade, and having it actually light-up, making me feel like a magical wizard of electricity. Forget the diamonds . . . through these windows you'll view passion, creative vision, and pure love.

Photos: J.B. Taylor

Thanks. Merci. Tak. Gracias. Danke. Grazie. Toda. Mahalo . . .

Giving thanks for everything and everybody in our lives today, along with sending strong vibes of abundance to those who are having troubled times. Hoping you have a wonderful, inspiring and warm dinner with family and friends tonight, and please be sure to comment about what you cooked! As for my man & I, we're doing something totally new this year . . . heading off on an orphan's Chinese-themed Thanksgiving date. Organic Peking turkey and sweet potato dumplings at Red Farm in the West Village!

I'm also very thankful for all the devoted subscribers who've put up with my lack of posts this year. I've been building two separate companies, one of which is launching this holiday season (announcements soon!). There are dozens of posts I'm dying to share, and will asap, but in the meantime, if you'd like ot keep up with my up-to-the-min. shenanigans, be sure to follow me on Twitter or Instagram <3

Skull With Broken Pot, c.1943.

Spooky painting from the gothic gatekeeper of Ghost Ranch, Georgia O'Keeffe.

Happy Hallow's Eve!

5th Helena Drive.

Like many starry-eyed little girls growing up in Hollywood, my first love was Marilyn.

I'm sure it would be hard for any aesthetically-minded human not to be moved by her innocence, genius, and dreamy aura. I've read many books about her life, each portraying a different mythology . . . but the fact that many of us have our own interpretation of her story, is further testament to her eternally captivating power.

This year marked the 50th anniversary of her death, and though it's blue to think about all the movie magic she had yet to conjure for us, I celebrate her spirit often. She had a wonderfully inquisitive mind, and fabulous taste . . . especially in clothing (simple Pucci pieces for day, Ceil Chapman gowns for evening), books (her Joyce, Hemingway and Whitman-laden library would've impressed any literary snob), and decor (she began collecting antiques in the 1950s, when it was still considered a bohemian hobby).

Her final home on Earth was a little Spanish bungalow in Brentwood, which she was happily  decorating up until the night of her tragically un-intentional OD. She had just returned from a trip to Mexico, where she ordered pieces of custom furniture that would soon be delivered to her beloved abode. While I'm sure most fans would imagine her home to be adorned with crystal chandeliers, white fur cushions, and gold leafed walls, it may surprise some to see that her nest was casual, warm, and completely unpretentious. She was setting up a cozy home, filled with hand-crafted Mexican art, weavings, Navajo pottery, and souvenirs from her travels.

Many of her beloved Mexican pieces were auctioned off years ago by Julien's in Los Angeles, and I've always treasured their catalog from the sale. It says more about this complex woman than any billowing white dress ever will. 1926–1962.

Sending you love and light, MM, wherever you are!

Select photos from top: Marilyn & mandolin by Milton Greene, her sun hat, photo of her festive dining room by Gene Anthony, Polaroid of her modern woven chairs (photog. unknown), the Iron boot was a gift from Clark Gable to MM during the filming of The Misfits in 1961, her portable record player.

Insta-obsessed.

Wishing I could post more often, but my husband & I are currently forming a new company (exciting details to be announced soon), on top of tending to our burgeoning design studio, which is currently a wonderful madhouse due to this feature about our work on Garance Doré! We're burning our candles at both ends, bright, to say the least. 

But if you'd like to keep up with our shenanigans on a more timely basis, you can follow @JB_Taylor on Twitter, or @Mrs_JBT on Instagram, where I post quite often. Here are some of my favorite recent captures . . .

Above, from top: Hand carved wooden camp totem spotted Upstate, moi celebrating my new Karen Walker Summer sunnies, Hydrangeas in our garden (the deer ate them all that night!), rooftop in Brooklyn at sunset, Ali Baba the Pug's usual morning pose, stunning antique embroidered kimonos currently on display at the Putnam History Museum (Cold Spring, NY), channelling The Craft with my witch sister Aviva in our Hobbity garden, Garance Doré enjoying the gorgeously scented rosemary at Hudson Hil's, across the road from our house at Russell Wright's woodland home 'Manitoga' (which Garance lovingly featured on her site) Ali Baba in his basket with his beloved bagel toy, weepy garden blooms, catching fireflies in the yard.

Estelle Ellis.

After reading news of Estelle Ellis Rubinstein's death in WWD last week, I wanted to pay homage to this inspiring, enterprising woman. After working for Popular Science in the 1940s, she went on to publish Seventeen in 1944, which became my bible throughout the '80s (especially when they made Molly Ringwald a cover girl, in her straw cloche). Many of the issues I so treasured are kept in archival sleeves on my bookshelf, along with the fabulous '60s and '70s issues that provide me with endless inspiration. Under the astute eye of editor-in-chief Helen Valentine, the mag hired now-legendary graphic designers when they were just starting out . . . Andy Warhol, Milton Glaser, Seymour Chwast, Ben Shahn, and Sol LeWit are only a few of the artists that contributed type, layouts, and drawings to Seventeen during its golden era, making the early issues all the more collectible. Estelle also launched Charm magazine in the 1950s, which later became Glamour. Here are some of my favorite covers of the mags Estelle created . . .