. . . lately have been thinking about the things we always come back to—the crashing waves of the ocean, a favourite fragrance or countryside road, a novel or restaurant; for some, there are the same colours, designers, or interiors . . .
. . . and for me, it is this manhattan apartment, belonging to fashion designer betsey johnson—a maximalist heaven of overflowing bouquets of roses and utterly breathtaking pink walls, beautiful chandeliers and yards upon yards of antique lace . . .
. . . and before the pink, the walls were a bright & sunny yellow; and then, in an effort to simplify, the designer had everything cleared out and painted all in white; the minimalism lasted a mere two weeks before a collection of things began finding their way back, and the white walls were enveloped in pink . . .
. . . and amazingly, this apartment made its first appearance here in the summer of 2007, and still remains, after all this time, one of those places, for me, that one always comes back to . . .