CONTINUED...

So this is Canova's Temple in Possagno. It's rather imposing, a bit like Rome's Pantheon being plonked in the countryside next to a little town. I only poked my head inside and it seemed to be used as the local church? I also saw a regular parade of pensioners pulling up to the bottom of the steps in beaten up Fiat Pandas, then carrying large boxes inside. Hopefully they contained props for a harvest festival and not something more sinister, as obviously old people in Fiat Pandas arriving at temples immediately strike me as being up to no good. 

What is up with my photo alignment lately? I have no idea either.

 I took every photo on this trip on my iphone using the VSCO Cam app and some with Instagram, which keeps crashing on me as I'm taking a photo so I don't trust it anymore. VSCO never crashes, I actually love it quite a lot. Way more subtle than Instagram. Maybe my eyeballs have been deadened by years of internet usage, but those pictures taken on VSCO seem like they're not bad quality at all. I don't feel bad posting them here, as if I've been too lazy to take 'proper' photos. Last time I went to Venice, I broke my beloved Canon A-E1, and I wanted to see if I could manage a trip using just my phone.

Here are the prosecco vines at Frozza's vineyard in Vidor. It was such a lovely place. Little dogs run out to greet you as you arrive (one very friendly puppy, one not so friendly door guarding dog.) We had a tasting with the owner, his daughter was running about with the dogs, there was a little vegetable patch just to the left of this picture and a pristine barn housing the tanks full of prosecco, not more than ten tanks. Dream life. We (well, not me) bought two cases of prosecco, one medium, one brut. I didn't like the brut at first but grew to like it and we basically drank most of the cases while I was in Venice...

Talking of Venice, someone said to me the other day that although I was in Venice, my photos don't look like Venice. I supposed because I've been going there frequently for so many years (15?) I don't think photos of bridges and canals would be that interesting... everyone knows what Venice looks like, right? Magical, amazing, but sometimes hard to take a picture that doesn't look like a postcard in a souvenir shop. I guess I'm more likely to take pictures of stuff that is new to me on trips to the mainland. But then maybe that's silly, I will make more of an effort to take Venice pictures with new eyes in future. To end, here are a couple of pictures of my view from the vaporetto late on a Sunday afternoon in the lagoon. Not very much like taking the tube.

ASOLO, CANOVA...

In Asolo, about an hour's drive from Venice, there is a Cipriani hotel with a beautiful garden you can have a spritz in. 

With a view...

That is breathtaking...

And a pomegranate orchard...

We went for a stroll around the town...

The place we had lunch at was called Al Bacaro and was really perfect for an early autumn day. I ate lots of polenta. The restaurant didn't have very photogenic lighting and was all dark and wooden inside. I liked it so much, but my photos just didn't do it justice. 

Then we drove to Possagno, to the Gipsoteca di Canova, the museum which houses the original plaster cast models of Antonio Canova's sculptures. The plaster works are housed in a completely plaster white space, with an additional wing designed by Carlo Scarpa. The whole effect was really striking. (You can just see the dots all over the Three Graces here, to work out the proportion/measurements.) 

You're not supposed to take photos there. Oops.

Next to the Gipsoteca is Canova's house. The garden was my favourite bit again - I think I'm turning into my granny (Granny B not Granny Dragon for those familiar with my ancestry). Granny B would've loved it there. 

To be continued...

That's enough of me being the Veneto region tourism board for now - we also went to Canova's Temple and then drove around the prosecco growing region of Valdobbiadene, stopping to buy some cases at a sweet, tiny winery called Frozza.   

{All photos taken by me.}

EMPTY...

During...

After...

Saturday lunchtime. By 12.30 a long, wide queue stretches out of the door. Regulars squeeze along the side of it and inside, straight to the bar to order - remarking to others that everyone's waiting in line, but hardly anyone's inside. Only the uninitiated wait in line. We eat steaming, freshly cooked polpette, cicheti with robiola, truffle and mushroom; baccala mantecato; wines: various(!) By 2.30pm the counter is clean - nothing left. The staff has been working like a robotic symphony until the Chiuso sign is put up and they can take two minutes to breathe. Disappointed latecomers are turned away, but not before they're brought placating glasses of wine outside by cutie Matteo. Now quiet, door closed, only a few regulars remaining, standing amongst the fluttering piles of little white napkins - discussing the meat of the day, the phenomenon of the queue, one last ombra to send you on your way...

VENICE MORNING...

PHONE HOME...

I'm getting my autumn wardrobe together and I've identified a severe lack of skirts. Happily, the Family Affairs autumn/winter 12 collection is up online now and the Frankie skirt might just have to be mine. I also wish that the tiger headband had gone into production, but alas I think it is stylist's own in this case, so I will have to steal it from her somehow instead. Continuing the Family Affairs / LIB collaboration, I again wrote the press notes for the collection, below. 

The Fall/Winter 12 collection Phone Home is the most comprehensive yet from Family Affairs: with knitwear, hand knitted socks and our first ever bag, the perfectly round Alcudia (made of goat nappa leather).

All the pieces in Phone Home are modern with a sense of nostalgia – you feel at home in them wherever you end up being. The feeling of the collection is both mad and cozy: a grown up school look: it may be girly but it’s not dressing like a little girl.

As an adult you can now see, understand and appreciate the strangeness of the late ‘70s and early ‘80s; the darkness of suburbia as represented in the film E.T. But having been a young child growing up in that era, the saturated colours and animal prints used in Phone Home are comforting and nostalgic: the horse print Tennenbaum dress, lion print Moonstruck dress, alpine striped knit Budapest leggings, the red and green striped wool of the Gabriel sweater, the mustard faux suede Yorinde dress, rust knitted Serrano dress, the green chenille Frenchie sweater, the indigo skirt in blue faux suede.

The cozy hand knitted striped mustard and black Trudi socks are named after the designer’s adopted grandmother, who used to knit her socks every birthday and Christmas, which are still much treasured. Shapes are cozy and/or sexy to allow both extremes to exist in one look. Along with the ribbed cable knits and nostalgic prints are items like the rust knit Serrano dress and the navy cashmere wool Bandito skirt – a slim high waisted pencil skirt. The floor-sweeping Stargazer dress in midnight blue washed silk and the long faux suede paneled Indigo skirt add some languid glamour. There are short tunic shapes to be worn with the knitted ribbed or striped leggings and a key item is the very flirty short, paneled navy Frankie skirt.

Each piece is reminiscent of the way when you were a child you’d have special favorite things to wear, that you might keep in a secret drawer or suitcase and would wear over and over again. No one but you knew how important those things were to you, or why you were so attached to certain items, but they made you feel safe and protected.

{Photos from Family Affairs lookbook, text by me, Claire Oldman - please credit and link here if you re-post.}

I WONDER...

...what the status of Mr G's oranges is currently? I know you are wondering this too.

Don't worry, I will go and find out for you.

STUFF IN LONDON...

I can barely keep up with all the major cultural shenanigans in London this autumn, and that's just looking at my own diary. Why is there so much stuff in it? I don't have time for all this fun stuff. But I do seem to have squeezed in writing a guide to autumnal London events here.

Or you can read it below:

As autumn draws in, the cultural goings-on of London start to head inside and ratchet the pressure up a few notches: bigger, heavier hitting fairs and events are scattered throughout the season. October brings out the big guns of Frieze Art Fair and the BFI London Film Festival. There are major, in-depth art shows, classic ballets and of course, fireworks lighting up the sky on Bonfire Night.

WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT LOLA...

It is a fine and delicate line when one has a blog named after a cat. If it becomes too feline oriented, people start introducing you by saying, "She's got this cat blog," or family members say things like, "I'm sorry you're not having any success except with your cat blog interviews," and you become despairing. You slow down on a fine feature like Bloggers + Cats, then Karl Lagerfeld followed by Kim Kardashian get kittens and the entire world's media becomes cat obsessed and starts interviewing them.

If there is not enough feline content you are sent emails addressed to "Dear Lola," - this happens anyway, and she can't answer them unfortunately because she can't type. But still, what I'm saying is it's hard to get the balance right - Depeche Mode were right all along.

 In case anyone still thinks I'm Lola, here is what actual Lola's been up to the last couple of months.

    

LONDON VS. PARIS. {AS USUAL}...

Here's my latest Paris vs. London lunch rant - written for HiP Paris. Read it over there, or below.

I was born in London, and have lived here all my life apart from extended sojourns to other parts of Europe that are more conducive to joie de vivre, and, well, Paris. I can’t help but compare the two lifestyles and poor London always comes limping in at second place, looking all harassed with its suit creased and carrying a can of lager and a half-eaten burger. The aspect of quotidian life that gives me the most pleasure in Paris and that has the potential to have me hopping on the Eurostar to Paris from London on a whim is… lunch.

In Paris: At 1pm lock up the office, switch your phone off and go for a two and a half hour lunch with your colleagues at a charming local restaurant, dining from the three-course prix fixe menu. After a leisurely coffee and some more chitchat, pay the reasonably priced bill (probably with luncheon vouchers), and it’s back to the office well rested and energized for the rest of the day’s work. (Note: I did say stereotypical.)

In London: At some point between 11am and 4pm rush out to any old shop close to the office that sells sandwiches in plastic cartons and grab one. Maybe get an apple or a packet of crisps if you’re feeling flush, because that sandwich just cost the equivalent of €6. Run back to your desk and continue typing with the other hand while you eat, trying not to get crumbs stuck between the keys. Repeat every day for forty-five years.