A rare catch up with the lovely elusive Emma.
Elusive, as Emma has been living abroad until recently. Even before that she would be cycling alongside the Great Wall of China or the Nile, recording a song in the depths of somewhere obscure, on a silent retreat in Wales or drumming on a Greek island. I have her down as one of my desert island people, but whether I’d ever find her to get her there is another thing. I probably should tell her soon, as I’ll probably have to book her years in advance.
I met Emma at work. I started at Cath Kidston’s in the very first few weeks, at the first tiny store in Clarendon Cross with Cath and her cousin Polly. It was 99% vintage then; one day the shop would be styled in a 1940’s ski chalet-style, the next it’d be a 1950’s sitting room. After Polly left, to take up the dreary job of Lady Leceister and live in the shabby Holkham Hall, the wonderful Emma appeared, always arriving bright and chirpy on her bike. And every day, without fail, accompanied by the best selection of bags, scarves, and accessories. Not always expensive, just immaculately chosen and considered. Accessories which left me in a continual state of awe, and due to having been bought in a previous season and so unattainable - much disappointment. At Cath’s, we both had our eye on some fabric. Vintage, never used. Two pieces of purple pansy fabric designed by Howard Carter for the Heal’s store in the 60’s. You don’t see the design often and normally it’s orange, I guess which suited the era and the flower. But these were purple. Big bold happy splashes of purple. They weren’t a bargain and neither of us could afford the pair. But we both liked them so much we bought them between us. So, the curtains have been separate, but abstractly still paired between us for many years.
All of Emma’s homes have been a joy to visit. But then you go home a bit crestfallen wishing your home was as cool. An orange kitchen, massive billboard-sized vintage film posters, a dressing room dedicated to the fabulous accessories. This room also contained ceiling-high piles of the most exciting fabrics. But Emma didn’t know exactly where the other piece of the pansy fabric was. Years later, after one of her moves, I came home to a large squishy parcel. But, Emma doesn’t just send you a parcel. It will be wrapped Japanese-style or with coloured tissues and ribbons. Even the unwrapping is a thing of joy. I had no idea what it was. But inside I discovered it was purple.
Emma, you are like my other curtain piece, I’m glad you’re back in the UK, we are all re-united. And thank you. To date I still don’t have a window worthy enough of the fabric. I live in a tiny medieval cottage with small square windows. One day, I will build a house and design a window just for these, they really are that good.
