Fashion has indeed invaded the home since fashion designers have also turned to poor, or rather – just to make it more palatable to you luxe fiends – humble materials like wood, raffia, horn, and stone for accessories in the spring-summer collections. Has the tsunami disaster affected them to the point where gloss and glitz just seem so irrelevant and inspiration can now be found in the tidal wave-swept beaches of cleansed sands with weathered driftwood, flotsam and jetsam to be recycled anew? And after a calamity like that, is there joy in the simple and the basic?
Of course they are very philosophical about it. This luxury of "next to nothing" gives birth to the praise of intelligence, where the value of an object resides in the implemented idea, in the poetics of the gesture and the time and effort dedicated to its creation. It is a sublimation of the ordinary with the extraordinariness of know-how: broken then mended, crossed out then illuminated, cut up then resewn, worn out then patched up. It dematerializes itself in order to return to its true essence. It’s a luxury of "fiction" as opposed to the commonplace, democratized variety that is media-friendly and in your face.
This luxury of pleasure is eons way from ostentatious "cash" and easy "chic." This new attitude of luxe makes the "nomads" the new aristocracy of social etiquette, far beyond the comfortable, obese middle-class bourgeoisie of the industrial era. These nomads who are fearless and without ties value the ideas of material disengagement as much as extreme sophistication. There is a notion of freedom, like a hut on the beach under the sun, the shining and solar intensity of pure white, punctuated by color vibrations like precious gems. Following the course of the sun and freedom is supreme luxury. It’s like writing upon a blank page. Liberated of all preconceived notions of luxe and elegance, one can discover the poor and the precious and be delighted by a sensual minimalism. One lets go of everything that hinders and binds. Poverty makes us rethink and de-trivialize luxury.
One "nomad" of a designer who has taken the preconceived notions of beauty and luxury in stride by injecting an air of poverty and quaintness into her designs is Andreé Putman, who was declared Designer of the Year for the 10th-year anniversary of the Maison & Objet show. We were fortunate to meet her and have her "explain" her designs to us. Lido, her new collection of furniture and accessories, is inspired by the Venetian lagoon, reflecting life in all its wondrous ripples and waves. Using simple and noble materials like white oak wood, mirror, brushed steel and glass, it’s like "a casket for the craziest dreams or for the most judicious ones," she says. "The oakwood bed has Murano glass spheres on the headboard which frame it. No, they don’t foretell your future but they joke cheerfully with lights." Cleverly concealed underneath is a metal mesh pull-out storage that makes it easier to redo the bed and can store additional pillows. The vanity unit keeps what Putman calls a "shining surprise" – a pop-up mirror that is summoned only when one’s vanity is called into question. The bedside table lamp in steel is like a snake with three heads. The folding wall mirror, on the other hand, is like a chrysalis with two wings that unfold like a butterfly. Poor? Minimal in line, perhaps, but rich in detailing and references that will conjure a wealth of dreams.
The other designer of the year (Putman was gracious enough to shared the title with a younger designer who represented the new generation) was Eric Gizard, an emerging figure in interior architecture and design. Just like Andreé, Eric is self-taught, intuitive, never a victim of fashion but then again so very in touch with the times and with other fields of contemporary design. His wanderings are tropical, African in particular, and he is inspired by certain gestures that are part of everyday life and rough materials with unrivalled qualities. If he were to be attributed a style, it would be the discreet worship of hybridization and of counterpoint: combining materials, cultures and colors with the resulting tension and contrast. For the new Patou boutique, he isn’t fearful of associating the sweet fragrances of perfume with felt textile even if this material has a reputation for being rough and drab. In the Stephane Kelian boutique, supple shelves, inclined mirrors and translucent lighting give the space a feeling of weightlessness. Andreé feels she and Eric share some common tastes: " . . .the combination of rich and poor, silky and grainy, a taste for the touch of materials and combining them in an impertinent tone. Social housing materials, for example, do not scare us. This comes from a freedom that cannot be bought. Eric’s work is full of intuition and audacity, without ever being showy."
As a counterpoint to Pauvre, another theme of luxury that was explored at the show was Nouveau Riche. We can understand how this theme came about, noting how Paris has been invaded by the wealthy new capitalists from Russia and the People’s Republic of China. At the Place Vendome, it is not uncommon to see troops of sable-clad Russian women rabidly shopping for coveted jewels and paying with hard cash. At the Avenue Montaigne, we were accosted by a Chinese lady who desperately pleaded that we buy her a couple of bags from Louis Vuitton, which had put a limit to the number of items per design which she could purchase. The Nouveau Riche theme, then, is very au courant, as presented by Nelly Rodi, a trend forecaster. Rodi poses the question: "Will you opt for the bourgeois good taste of reservation and discretion or the beauty of glamour without shame?" For her, the question of elegance is losing its reason for existence. The Western world and its culture of luxe are ceasing to be the arbiters of good taste. "Through the jabs and the blows of the dollar, the nouveaux riches are seeking revenge on history, at the speed of their private jets. The princes and princesses of fast money are showing off to astonish and impress others and to prove their success." Gold leaf and sequins, precious mother of pearl, irridescent and metallic effects are the materials of choice for the jewelled homes of the neo-rich in Moscow, Shanghai, Dubai, Bombay and Beirut, just like in the homes of those they idolize in Miami and Las Vegas. As shimmering as the youthful indiscretions of platinum-blonde American heiress Paris Hilton, luxury is overexposing its wealth and snapping one’s fingers at the notions of elegance and vulgarity. Half-hearted, bourgeois and timorous luxury is laid to rest to give way to a tantalizing and proud one with an excessive flair for grandeur.
When gold is too much, the nouveau riche can choose to shelter their opulence within stylish folds of shadow, making black an alternative color. Far from flashy insolence, black becomes the richest of all colors: mysterious like black crystal, as rare as a black diamond. The use of black is a way of pulling one’s gold away from prying eyes.
So wherein does luxe lie? In the brash display of riches that transforms our interiors into 24-carat jewelry? Or in a new asceticism where the simple brings a newfound freedom? One obviously exists because of the other and isn’t there always a little of the ascetic and the showy in us at any one time? It’s all a question of comfort levels in the mix, like how much gold leaf and distressing you can take. And when it comes to the home, comfort is ultimately what it’s all about.