so said ellie: May 2010

Loves

Bunnies, blossoms, other nice things.

5/29/2010 01:10:00 pm

Makes

Container gardening for the brown-thumbed apartment dweller- part quatre

5/25/2010 05:46:00 am

Takes pictures

Container gardening for the brown-thumbed apartment dweller- part trois

5/24/2010 09:31:00 pm

Eats/Drinks

I am a keeper of memories, a hoarder of junk, a purchaser of asian notebooks with chinglish sayings. So to own a scrapbook is the most natural thing in the world.

In Sweden, I collected bits and pieces because I knew that eventually I would sit down and collate them. The question was one of the book, however, because it was the book itself that became the most important element of the collection.

Eventually, after much ado, I settled on a ginormous and beautiful Bookbinders Design album. It has heavy black pages and a bright blue cover. I keep it in a bag because it is precious and, though it is some years down the track, not all of the bits and pieces are yet safely stuck to their black pages..

In the department store in town, there was a section made up entirely of awesome and lovely things. It was there that I first discovered Muji, and Marimekko notebooks, and then yes.. Bookbinders. An obsession, of sorts.

Bookbinders Design equals excellent quality combined with great design and a rich colour spectrum. The concept is based on original values and traditions of the bookbindery craft. Genuine craftsmanship is what makes us special.

The origin is found in our sister company, Åhnbergs Bokbinderi in Stockholm, which was founded in 1965. The founding father, Martin Åhnberg, was passionate about his craft and about creating honest and functional products from natural materials. His motto was 'handcraft, quality focus and craftsmanship' and this motto is valid also today.

There is a great deal of manual work behind Bookbinders Design's beautiful products. Most of the production still takes place at the bookbindery in Stockholm. Our aim is to create functional and durable products that last for a long time by the use of carefully selected high-quality materials.

I had to pull out my book on the weekend to see what I had written about the Arne Jacobsen Egg Chair Incident of '08. I took some photos of it just for you.

Looking over it almost made me want to finish gluing in all those loose bits of paper. Almost, but not quite. I was sidetracked by a felt bird and a cup of tea. In spite of the beauty of the book, I lack dedication to the cause.

Tells an absurd story

The Arne Jacobsen Egg Chair.

5/18/2010 07:56:00 pm

I have a story to tell you. It makes me giggle. But in a sort of uncomfortable way. I foreshadowed it here, and then forgot about the foreshadowing.

Before I begin, I have to tell you that I'm really annoyed at myself because I have either forgotten the key detail of this story, deleted a post that contained that key detail at some point in the past, and/or thrown out the catalogue that held not only the key detail, but a whole lot of other cool stuff. So when i get to the kicker, it's actually just made up. Well, it's as best I remember, and I'm pretty sure that it's correct. You will see, I will mark the kicker with an asterisk so you know what I'm talking about when you get there.

Let's proceed.

In 2007, the mothership and I went travelling in Scandinavia. Our shenanigans are chronicled here, but I was blogging because of a sense of obligation to my non-existent readership and the chronicle is kind of shit. Maybe that's why I deleted the post that contained the key detail (I might be imagining it though, so you see, things are a bit complicated).

We were in Copenhagen and it had been raining and then warming, and it was humid and sticky and I needed to do a wee. Wandering around Størget we came across Illums Bolighus. Illums Bolighus is a department store. The kind of fancy shiny department store where all the staff look the same in a eugenic nordic way, and there is electro-jazz playing as the muzak, and everything is white and metallic and gleaming, in a terrifyingly expensive way. They had cushions made out of seal cub.

In 1925 Illums Bolighus was founded under the name BO by the Danish business man Kaj Dessau. Apart from having business flair Kaj Dessau also possessed a great aesthetic sense. Together with Kaj Dessau’s artistic consultant, Brita Drewsen, he created a concept, which up to that time had never been seen anywhere in the world. A store comprising designed interiors, where textiles and furniture formed a synthesis with art. Drewsen's and Dessau's unusual vision and sense of quality up through the 1930'es has since then had an immense impact on the international status gained by Danish interior design. [...] In 1997 Illums Bolighus was appointed Purveyor to the Royal Danish Court.

Etcetera. Basically, it's really expensive and fancy, and tourists go in there to take pictures because they can't afford to buy anything. Especially not in euros or crowns.

Anyway, so my face was all shiny and I needed to go wee wee. The bathrooms were on the same floor as the furniture, so mother found a chair and threw herself down in it, legs splayed, looking at photos on her digital camera. She may or may not have have had in her possession a money pouch and a bum bag, but that's not for discussion here.

I went to the bathroom, did bathroom things... brushed my hair, blotted my face, looked at some pimples, put on some perfume... you know what I mean. I went back out and located the mother, who remained lounging whilst we talked about what to do for the afternoon.

It was at that point we noticed, and ignored, one of the very eugenic shop attendants hovering near by. Hovering actually, sort of, on top of us.

Suddenly he materialised beside my right elbow and asked, in a sort of poshy nordic way if he could help us with anything. We replied no, that we were just browsing, because you know, there's nothing I need more in life than a few seal cub cushions...

But he kept hovering, and so the mother began to remove herself from the chair.

It was a nice chair. Very comfortable.

As she stood up, she glanced at the price tag. It said 72,000 Danish kroner.*

That's more than $13,000 Australian dollars.

It was an Arne Jacobsen Egg chair. A leather one. An original.