Well not yet anyway. According to the ticket, we should be home by now. At this point we’re supposed to be entering the post-holiday blues..surrounded by half un-packed suitcases and useless souvenirs. In actual fact, we changed our tickets and are still waking up to a beautiful Californian Summer. We do realize this probably can’t go on forever so we’ll do our best to get on a plane this Tuesday, landing us home Thursday. No promises, but.
S x

In one of my alternate Universes, it’s 1958 and I bake.  Daily.  Looking remarkably similar to Bettie Page,  I wear pretty day dresses with petticoats, clack about in kitten heels and have my hair set weekly.  During the mornings I hold quaint tea gatherings for the neighbours and in the evenings I host magnificent dinner parties with martinis and souffle.  All of this takes place to Frank Sinatra crooning in the background of my Mid Century Modern home, of course.

I’ve had a love of the era for many years, long before MCM became all current and now.    In 2001, I studied interior design for a brief moment in time and focused on Googie, the style of building you see featured in any Jetsons episode.  Since then, I’ve fantisized about owning my own MCM home but they are somewhat hard to find in our part of the World.   Mum also shares the passion so we sometimes drive around seeking out homes with flat roofs and huge glass windows or scout the 2nd hand stores in search of that elusive Eames original. 

So, you can imagine my royale delight that here in California, I’m currently amidst the epicentre of all things Mid Century Modern.  Long before we arrived though, like some internet nutter, I emailed real people who actually live in these gorgeous homes..Nice people who, luckily, replied to my over-enthusiastic ramblings with equal passion for their mid century “Eichler” neighborhoods and invited me to come and see for myself. As we drove around these streets in Orange recently, I could barely breathe for the sight of one incredible, Joseph Eichler designed house after another, with manicured lawns and house numbers in the kitschest of fonts. We were lucky enough to tour through this house and when the agent explained that cocktails are held each weekend at the home of whoever has the pink flamingo in the garden, I just about refused to leave.

For me, these homes in these streets hold a magic I find hard to describe. I know I said Anthropologie was my Heaven on Earth..well this Eichler neighborhood resembles my idea of Heaven in Heaven.

Clearly, I love photographs.  But photographs including myself, not so much.  I know a photogenic subject when I see one and I also know that me, I’m not one of them.   I’m fine with this fact, I just figure I got a good phone voice, my sister got photogenic.

So, one recent day,  I was admittedly filled with part excitement, part terror when Krysta informed me she’d done a secret little something and booked us a shoot with the incredible Miss Tara Whitney. What?  With me?  As in me on the other side of the camera?  Breeeeaathe.

As the day drew closer, the excitement mostly took over the fear and we madly planned, bombarding poor Tara with random texts and emails.   I can’t think of anything worse than photographing two pedantic, detail obsessed, indecisive photographers but if she was daunted, she didn’t appear to be.  We enticed her with promises of champagne and frivolity and it must have worked, she showed up.

Laden up with forty thousand props, we struggled along suburban streets until suddenly we were there.  The perfect spot.  Hazy light, dusty tracks, gorgeous fields.  All the things we’d hoped for.  Throw in some vintage frocks and a pink bike and we had ourselves a dream session.  Photos aside though, the afternoon we spent together was without a doubt, a highlight of my trip to the States.  We didn’t stop laughing the entire time.  And when we weren’t laughing, we were just so relaxed and happy and comfortable.  Who would have thought?

And then, the bonus..the photos are just beautiful.  The whole purpose behind Krystas gorgeous idea was to simply capture the friendship we share, and Tara did just that, so perfectly.   Krysta, thankyou for a truly beautiful gift.   Tara, thankyou for a truly beautiful day.   (Again, I’m sorry I tried to run you down with the bike.)  If you’d like to see the result of our splendid time together, you may go here.  (Password: field)

S xx

*Added an out-take Tara emailed through..I wasn’t kidding about the near demise of Miss Whitney at the hands of my inexeperienced bike rider-self. If we’d audio taped the event you’d hear be shreiking “Tarrrrrraaaaaaaaaa….Stoppppp the biiiiiiike”. Like she could.