An Abrupt End to the Party

Cavendish Mews is a smart set of flats in Mayfair where flapper and modern woman, the Honourable Lettice Chetwynd has set up home after coming of age and gaining her allowance. To supplement her already generous allowance, and to break away from dependence upon her family, Lettice has established herself as a society interior designer, so her flat is decorated with a mixture of elegant antique Georgian pieces and modern Art Deco furnishings, using it as a showroom for what she can offer to her well heeled clients.

Today however Lettice’s drawing room, usually a haven of peaceful gentility, has been given over to a more joyful and exuberant festive atmosphere as Lettice hosts a bottle party* for friends after a wonderful day out at the Henley Regatta**. At a recent dinner at the Savoy Hotel***, Lettice’s beau, Selwyn Spencely, son of the Duke of Walmsford, has devised a plan to help thwart the plans of his scheming mother, Lady Zinnia, and Uncle Bertrand to marry him off to his cousin, 1923 debutante Pamela Fox-Chavers. Lady Zinnia has been snubbing Lettice, so he and Lettice have arranged for Lettice to attend as many London Season events as possible where Selwyn and Pamela are also in attendance so that Lettice and Selwyn can spend time together, and at the same time make their intentions so well known that Lady Zinnia won’t be able to avoid Lettice for too much longer. So far, they have been seen together at the Derby**** the Fourth of June at Eton*****, the Crystal Palace Horse Show, Ascot Week****** and today the Henley Regatta. The party at Henley consisted of Lettice, Selwyn and Pamela, Lettice’s friends Dickie and Margot Channon, who are part of Lettice’s Embassy Club coterie, her old childhood chum Gerald, also a member of the aristocracy who has tried to gain some independence from his impecunious Wiltshire family by designing gowns from a shop in Grosvenor Street, and a young debs delight******* whom Pamela is attracted to, the wealthy son of a banker, Jonty Knollys.

Edith, Lettice’s maid, fled to the relative quiet and safety of the Cavendish Mews kitchen as the party decamped noisily in the drawing room, discarding hats, canes and parasols across available surfaces before collapsing in fits of boisterous laugher into chairs and on the Chinese rug in the middle of the room. Now comfortably ensconced in the comfort of Lettice’s Mayfair drawing room, the party gets underway. Dickie insists on playing his usual role of barman as he relishes making cocktails for his friends with bottles purloined from Lettice’s black japanned cocktail cabinet in the adjoining dining room. Whilst he whips up concoctions for the pleasure of his friends, they all sing along with Gerald as he plays the latest tunes on his new banjo********.

“Yes we have no bananas, we have no bananas today!” the party sing joyously as Gerald concludes ‘Yes! We Have No Bananas’********* before applauding as he ends the song with a flourish.

“Oh, I wish Cyril was here.” sighs Gerald wistfully.

Lettice glances up in alarm from her seat opposite him where she had been toying playfully with the orange ribbons on her apricot dyed wide brimmed straw hat. As her eyes grow wide, Gerald realises his mistake in mentioning his secret lover’s name aloud.

“Who’s Cyril, old boy?” Selwyn asks with piqued interest as he takes a sip of Dickie’s cocktail concoction from his highball glass.

“Oh he’s… he’s…” stutters Gerald.

“He’s a musical chap who lives as a border in the home of Miss Milford, one of Gerald’s and my friends.” Lettice pipes up quickly, covering up Gerald’s awkwardness at trying to formulate a reply. “He’s quite theatrical type; performs in shows on the West End and enjoys a sing-along as a result, doesn’t he, Gerald?”

“Yes, yes he does!” replies her best friend with a look of extreme gratitude on his face.

“Milford?” Margot asks with a slight slur from her seat as she cocks an eyebrow lazily at Lettice. “Isn’t that the same name as your new milliner, Lettice darling?”

“What? Oh yes.” Lettice replies a little awkwardly herself. “She takes in lodgers too.”

“You’re friends with your milliner?” Margot continues with a perplexed air as she tries to piece the story together with a slightly alcohol addled mind. “How frightfully irregular.”

“Well… I… err.” stammers Lettice, glancing down the front of her apricot cotton summer frock.

“Oh Angel!” laughs Selwyn good naturedly. “You really shouldn’t try and cover for Gerald. Telling falsehoods doesn’t suit you, and it gives you away since you are no good at it.”

Both Lettice and Gerald blush with embarrassment.

“You are a black horse, aren’t you Gerald?” Selwyn continues, reaching down and giving him a soft brotherly slap on the back. “So, it isn’t a Gaiety Girl********** you’ve been hiding from us at all! It’s their landlady.”

“I say, Gerald old boy,” pipes up Dickie. “I do hope she doesn’t have a face like the ones you see portrayed in Punch every week!”

“Yes,” giggles Margot, releasing a hiccup amongst her titters. “All fat doughy face and washerwoman’s arms!”

“Or perhaps she is,” adds Selwyn with a conspiratorial wink at Gerald. “And he’s just using her to get to the prettiest of her Gaiety Girls.”

Gerald laughs cheerfully as much with relief at not being found out as being a homosexual for his inadvertent gaffe, as in an effort to go along with Selwyn’s thoughts and encourage the idea that he has a pretty girl cloistered away somewhere. “Well, a gentleman never reveals his secrets, Selwyn.”

“Oh, enough Selwyn!” exclaims Pamela. “Stop being a brute and teasing poor Mr. Bruton. His private affairs are his own!”

“Sorry Pammy.” Selwyn hangs his head in mock shame.

“I should think you are, Selwyn.” Turning to Gerald she addresses him. “Ignore him, Mr. Bruton. Anyone would think him a common labourer’s man rather than a future duke! My cousin can be a charming man, but when he is in a teasing mood, he is relentless.”

“Oh, I know Miss Fox-Chavers.” Gerald replies with a knowing smile. “You forget that I know your cousin well. He and I are members of the same club at St. James’.”

“Which you seldom attend these days” Selwyn points out, enjoying his ability to tease Gerald again. “Evidently because you have a better offer from somewhere, or more to the point, someone else.”

“Selwyn!” admonishes Pamela again.

“Gerald, won’t you play us something to dance to?” Lettice pipes up in an effort to change the subject and draw the attention away from her dear childhood friend who is evidently uncomfortable under Selwyn’s scrutiny. “I should so like to dance. What about you Miss Fox-Chavers?”

“Oh yes!” She looks hopefully at Jonty Knollys sitting next to her.

“Not I,” Margot manages to slur. “I don’t know what you put in these, my dear,” She glances at her husband as he adds a fresh slice of lemon to the lip of a highball glass full of a violent green looking concoction. “But whatever it is, it has gone straight to my head.” She sinks back into her seat and cradles her glass in her hands against her stomach.

“Oh my love, you’ve never had a head for cocktails.” Dickie says with a loving sigh as he shakes his head and looks with affection at his wife.

“How about a two-step?” Gerald asks as he starts searching noisily through the pile of sheet music he has brought with him from the back of his Morris***********.

“That sounds fine to me, Gerald darling!” Lettice enthuses. “You aren’t too overcome by Dickie’s cocktails as well, are you, Selwyn darling?” she adds teasingly.

“Certainly not, my Angel.” Selwyn replies, depositing his half drunk cocktail down onto the black japanned coffee table and offering her his hand chivalrously, helping her to rise from the comfortable white brocade cushions of her rounded tub armchair. “Shall we?”

“Aahh! Here we are!” Gerald says, withdrawing a piece of music with a creamy yellow cover adorned with red writing. He quickly tunes a loose string on his banjo and begins playing the opening bars of the ‘Auto Race’************ two-step.

Lettice falls into the now comfortable feel of Selwyn’s arms as he begins guiding her across the drawing room floor. They move carefully around her furniture as they move in time to the music, whilst also being careful not to bump into Pamela and Jonty who look happily into one another’s eyes as they too move in time to the jolly two-step.

“You know I’ve had such a lovely day today, Selwyn darling.” Lettice confides with a beaming smile as she looks up into her dance partner’s handsome face.

“So have I, my Angel.” he concurs with a purr. “A ripping day.”

“This little plan of yours seems to be working out quite nicely, Selwyn darling.”

“For whom?” Selwyn asks.

“Why for us, of course!” Lettice relies in surprise. “Who else?”

“Well, I don’t think Uncle Bertrand thought it was fearfully ripping when he laid eyes on you sitting next to me, and Jonty Knollys sitting alongside Pammy.”

“Yes,” Lettice muses with a juddering sight as she casts her mind back to earlier in the day on the Thames when Selwyn introduced her to his uncle as Bertrand drew the punt containing he and his second wife Rosalind alongside the punt containing their party. “I did notice the colour rise in his face. I don’t think it was caused by indigestion from their picnic luncheon in the bottom of their punt.”

“How perceptive you are, my Angel.” Selwyn says with a chuckle. “Still this is what we agreed to, wasn’t it?” After Lettice nods, he continues as he carefully guides her around the back of one of her armchairs, “And Zinnia must be aware of you by now. Our photos have appeared in the society pages of all the major newspapers. Uncle Bertrand’s firsthand observations will only add credence to the stories and rumours that are no doubt filtering back to her in Buckinghamshire. She cannot go on ignoring you forever.”

“Selwyn?” Lettice asks a little apprehensively. “Selwyn are you sure we’re going about this the right way?”

“Whatever do you mean, my Angel? I thought we agreed that this was the course of action that we were going to take. You just said yourself that you thought it was working out quite nicely for us, and I agree. You aren’t having misgivings about it are you?”

“Well, a little.” Lettice admits. “I mean, it does smack of rubbing your mother’s and uncle’s noses in it rather, don’t you think?”

“I told you, Zinnia is the best player of ostriches that I know. She happily sticks her head in the sand so she can’t see what she doesn’t want to. We have to get her to see, and Uncle Bertrand too, that you and I are not going to be persuaded to break our involvement. And Pammy deserves a chance to pick a suitor that she likes, not one that Zinnia and Uncle Bertrand have chosen for her. She deserves happiness every bit as much as you and I do. You are happy, aren’t you, may Angel?”

“Oh yes, of course I am, Selwyn darling. And, I’d say we aren’t alone in that happiness,” Lettice nods towards Pamela and Jonty, who only appear to have eyes for one another.

“Indeed yes.” Selwyn agrees in acknowledgement. “He’s one of the good chaps.”

“He seems it. Lovely manners, and he seems to make your cousin happy.”

“Well, I’m pleased because he only fancies Pammy for herself, and not her money.”

“He comes from the banking Knollys, doesn’t he?”

Selwyn nods. “So, he doesn’t need her money, like some of the others buzzing around her do. There are too many young men with ancestral castles and country estates falling into decrepitude who look towards Pammy as a means to restore their fortunes. I’d hate for her to throw away her heart on a cad.”

“You love her very much, don’t you, Selwyn?” Lettice smiles.

“I do.” Selwyn agrees. “She is my cousin after all.” He feels an almost imperceptible change in Lettice as she stiffens slightly in his arms. “But don’t worry, my Angel. I love you more.”

Lettice’s stance eases. “That’s just as well, Selwyn darling, because I love you too.”

The pair move together happily in silence for a little while whilst Gerald’s lively jaunty banjo notes and the sounds of Dickie squirting soda water into a cocktail fill the air around them.

“Have you worked out how you’re going to break the news to Mrs. Hawarden yet?” Gerald calls out to Lettice as she and Selwyn dance near to him.

“No,” Lettice sighs with exasperation. “Not yet.”

“Mrs. Hawarden?” Selwyn queries. “Isn’t she the woman you visited during Ascot week who wants you to redecorate her drawing room?”

“That’s her!” pipes up Gerald.

“And her dining room.” Lettice adds a little despondently. “She wants me to redecorate rooms that I feel should really be left unaltered. They are fine as they are, but she seems to have it in her head to tamper with them and ruin them with inferior fabrics and foolish ideas about what she thinks makes for tasteful redecoration and modernisation.”

“Well, can’t you talk her out of her ideas? I sense some trepidation, my Angel.”

“She won’t be told,” Gerald announces to the room as he continues playing without missing a beat. “So Lettice has decided to turn her down.”

“Not trepidation,” Lettice corrects Selwyn, picking up on his question of her. “Genuine fear.”

“Of what?” Selwyn asks. “Of her? Of saying no to her?”

Lettice nods as they move in time to Gerald’s playing. “She really is very domineering, I’ve discovered, and whenever I make a suggestion that counters her opinion, she just talks more loudly and stridently over the top of me to drown me out. She is convinced that I am the only interior designer who has her vision – even though I don’t. She telephones almost every day in an effort to wear me down. It’s become such an issue that I’ve had to make Edith lie to her and tell her I’m not at home, just so I don’t have to speak with her.”

BBBBRRRINGGG!

As if on cue, the silver and Bakelite telephone suddenly begins to trill loudly.

“Well, thinking of the devil, herself.” Gerald remarks as he continues to play.

“Oh don’t say that, Gerald!” hisses Lettice as Selwyn sweeps her away again.

BBBBRRRINGGG!

“Oh Margot,” Lettice calls from Selwyn’s arms as he continues to lead her in the dance. “Be a brick and answer that will you? Edith doesn’t like answering the telephone at the best of times, so she certainly won’t answer it in front of all of us.”

BBBBRRRINGGG!

Margot sloppily pulls herself up out of her chair and her slight alcoholic stupor and deposits her glass clumsily onto the surface of the low coffee table before her. Leaning over in a rather ungainly way, she grasps the receiver and picks it up just as it is about to ring again. Leaning over the arm of the chair she pulls the long curling black flex towards her and mutters into the receiver over the top of the noise around her, “The hon… honahhrable Lettice Chet… Chetwynd’s residence.” She pauses, her partially smeared lips hanging open as she listens. A distant deep male voice burbles down the line quite loudly and then stops. “Ssshhhh!” she hisses to everyone around her, waving her spare elegantly bejewelled hand in a sign to temper their noise before placing it against her uncovered ear as the burbling voice begins down the line again.

Gerald stops playing and both couples stop dancing abruptly. Dickie holds the soda syphon in his hands, his finger on the trigger, paused to add a dash of soda water to the glass before him. All eyes focus on Margot and the telephone’s receiver.

“Well, it’s not Mrs. Hawarden,” Selwyn notes as he hears the decidedly male voice yelling from his end.

“Ssshhh!” Lettice hushes him, patting his chest with her hands.

Margot leans back into an upright position and smothers the mouthpiece of the telephone with her hand as she takes the receiver away from her ear. She looks up to Lettice. “It’s your father.” she says dully. “He says it’s urgent.”

Lettice pushes herself quickly from Selwyn’s arms and rushes over to the telephone. She takes the receiver from Margot.

“Hullo Pappa.” The distant deep male voice speaks loudly down the line again. “No, no Pappa. That was Margot.” The Viscount blasts something unflattering about Margot at his daughter. “Well, we’ve been having cocktails you see, after our afternoon at Henley.” Lettice closes her eyes and hopes to avoid a rebuke. “I told you that we were going to the regatta today. Remember Pappa.” The Viscount starts talking again at length. “What? Oh, oh no Pappa?” He continues, and as he speaks down the telephone line from Wilshire the bright colour in Lettice’s face drains away. “Well yes of course, Pappa.” More speaking from the Viscount’s end of the line. “Yes, well Gerald’s here too. Of course, we’ll set off straight away.” His distant voice softens as he says goodbye. “Goodbye Pappa.”

Lettice hangs up the receiver which releases a bright tinkle as she replaces it in the cradle of the telephone. She stands still for a moment, staring ahead of her but seeing nothing.

“Lettice?” Gerald asks, but she doesn’t answer.

Suddenly she snaps out of her momentary stupor and walks with purpose into the dining room towards the green baize door that leads to the servant’s part of the flat. “Edith! Edith!”

“Yes Miss?” Edith pops her head around the corner of the door a moment later.

Lettice lowers her voice. “Edith please make us all some coffee and then go and pack me an overnight valise. Please pack my black crepe dress and a few of my more sombre frocks and my pearls will you. Mr. Bruton and I shall be departing for Wiltshire very shortly.”

“Yes Miss!” gaps Edith.

“I’ll explain later, Edith. Just serve the coffee as quickly as you can and then pack for me. You can clean up after we have all left.”

“Yes, Miss.”

Turning back Lettice strides across the dining room and back to the drawing room.

“I’m sorry everyone, but we’ll have to bring this party to an abrupt conclusion, I’m afraid.” Lettice announces shakily.

Margot, Dickie, Pamela and Jonty all groan and complain loudly.

“Whatever is the matter my Angel?” Selwyn asks, walking over and grasping his sweetheart by the shoulders. “You look so pale.”

“Lettice?” Gerald asks again, putting his banjo aside. “You said I was here.” He says softly. “What is it? Is it Mummy?”

Lettice doesn’t answer immediately, stunned once again into silence by shock.

“No,” she says weakly at length, an air of disbelief in her voice. “It’s Uncle Sherbourne.” She references Lord Tyrwhitt, patriarch of the family of the estate adjoining her own family’s estate, and father of her sister-in-law Arabella. “He’s collapsed whilst out on the estate.” She looks at Gerald. “We have to go to home to Wiltshire right now.”

*Bottle parties, a private party to which each guest brings their own liquor, came into vogue during the 1920s and 30s initially especially after prohibition in America and liquor licence restrictions in Britain.

**The Henley Royal regatta is a leisurely “river carnival” on the Thames. It was at heart a rowing race, first staged in 1839 for amateur oarsmen, but soon became another fixture on the London social calendar. Boating clubs competed, and were not exclusively British, and the event was well known for its American element. Evenings were capped by boat parties and punts, the air filled with military brass bands and illuminated by Chinese lanterns. Dress codes were very strict: men in collars, ties and jackets (garishly bright ties and socks were de rigueur in the 1920s) and crisp summer frocks, matching hats and parasols for the ladies.

***The Savoy Hotel is a luxury hotel located in the Strand in the City of Westminster in central London. Built by the impresario Richard D’Oyly Carte with profits from his Gilbert and Sullivan opera productions, it opened on 6 August 1889. It was the first in the Savoy group of hotels and restaurants owned by Carte’s family for over a century. The Savoy was the first hotel in Britain to introduce electric lights throughout the building, electric lifts, bathrooms in most of the lavishly furnished rooms, constant hot and cold running water and many other innovations. Carte hired César Ritz as manager and Auguste Escoffier as chef de cuisine; they established an unprecedented standard of quality in hotel service, entertainment and elegant dining, attracting royalty and other rich and powerful guests and diners. The hotel became Carte’s most successful venture. Its bands, Savoy Orpheans and the Savoy Havana Band, became famous. Winston Churchill often took his cabinet to lunch at the hotel. The hotel is now managed by Fairmont Hotels and Resorts. It has been called "London’s most famous hotel". It has two hundred and sixty seven guest rooms and panoramic views of the River Thames across Savoy Place and the Thames Embankment. The hotel is a Grade II listed building.

****The Derby Stakes is one of the greatest sporting events of the London Season, and is held in June at Epsom Downs Racecourse every year. It gets its name from its founder, Edward Smith-Stanley, the 12th Earl of Derby, who inaugurated the race as a lark in 1780. It is perhaps the most democratic of all events on the London social season calendar as it was not founded by royalty. It grew in popularity because of the patronage of the Duke of York (later King Edward VII) who found the race to his liking and attended every year, often entering horses from his own stud. As well as being a place of great joy, it also witnessed a tragedy in 1913, when suffragette Emily Davidson threw herself in front of King George V’s horse to draw attention to the plight of women wanting the vote. Sadly, such a heroic act killed her, turning her into one of the most famous martyrs of the suffragette movement.

*****June the fourth is an important day for Eaton College in Windsor. The day is celebrated annually with a tradition known as the “Procession of the Boats” or the “Swan Upping Ceremony”. During the ceremony, the reigning sovereign’s swan marker and his assistants row up the River Thames in traditional skiffs to check on the health of the swan population. Eton College students, dressed in their distinctive black and white uniforms, also participate in the ceremony, riding up and down the river in their own boats, accompanied by the school’s band playing lively tunes. After the ceremony, the town of Eaton and the college celebrate with a variety of festivities including music, food, drink and parties.

******Royal Ascot Week is the major social calendar event held in June every year at Ascot Racecourse in Berkshire. It was founded in 1711 by Queen Anne and is attended every year by the reigning British monarch and members of the Royal Family. The event is grand and showy, with men in grey morning dress and silk toppers and ladies in their best summer frocks and most elaborate hats.

*******A “debs’ delight” is an elegant or attractive young man in high society who is also an eligible bachelor and thus a suitable match for a young debutante.

********Originating out of America during the 1920s the banjo quickly gained popularity in Britain too because it was reasonably cheap as an instrument, portable, easy to learn on and musical duelling matches were played like draughts or chess.

*********"Yes! We Have No Bananas" is an American novelty song by Frank Silver and Irving Cohn published on March the 23rd, 1923. It became a major hit in 1923 when it was recorded by Billy Jones, Billy Murray, Arthur Hall, Irving Kaufman, and others. It was recorded later by Benny Goodman and His Orchestra, Spike Jones & His City Slickers, Kidsongs, and many more. The song became a best-selling sheet music in American history. It inspired a follow-up song, "I’ve Got the Yes! We Have No Bananas Blues", recorded by Billy Jones and Sam Lanin (with vocals by Irving Kaufman and others) in 1923. Al Jolson recorded on film, an operatic version, in blackface, in the 1930s

**********Gaiety Girls were the chorus girls in Edwardian musical comedies, beginning in the 1890s at the Gaiety Theatre, London, in the shows produced by George Edwardes.

***********Morris Motors Limited was a privately owned British motor vehicle manufacturing company established in 1919. With a reputation for producing high-quality cars and a policy of cutting prices, Morris’s business continued to grow and increase its share of the British market. By 1926 its production represented forty-two per cent of British car manufacturing. Amongst their more popular range was the Morris Cowley which included a four-seat tourer which was first released in 1920.

************”Auto Race” is a popular two-step composed in 1908 by American musician Percy Wenrich (1887 – 1952), who is perhaps more famously known for his hit songs like “Put on Your Old Grey Bonnet” and “On Moonlight Bay”.

This 1920s upper-class drawing room party is different to what you may think at first glance, for it is made up entirely of 1:12 size dollhouse miniatures.

Fun things to look for in this tableau include:

Lettice’s tea set is a beautiful artisan set featuring a rather avant-garde Art Deco Royal Doulton design from the Edwardian era. The jam fancies are also artisan miniatures from Beautifully Handmade Miniatures in Kettering. He has a dizzying array of meals which is always growing, and all are made entirely or put together by hand. The glass comport is made of real glass and was blown by hand. It too comes from Beautifully handmade Miniatures.

The books that you see scattered around Lettice’s drawing room are 1:12 size miniatures made by the British miniature artisan Ken Blythe. Most of the books I own that he has made may be opened to reveal authentic printed interiors, although these are amongst the exception. In some cases, you can even read the words of the titles, depending upon the size of the print! I have quite a large representation of Ken Blythe’s work in my collection. What might amaze you even more is that all Ken Blythe’s opening books are authentically replicated 1:12 scale miniatures of real volumes. To create something so authentic to the original in such detail and so clearly, really does make this a miniature artisan piece. Ken Blythe’s work is highly sought after by miniaturists around the world today and command high prices at auction for such tiny pieces, particularly now that he is no longer alive. I was fortunate enough to acquire pieces from Ken Blythe prior to his death about four years ago. His legacy will live on with me and in my photography which I hope will please his daughter.

The magazines on the lower shelf of the coffee table were made by hand by Petite Gite Miniatures in the United States.

The very realistic floral arrangements around the room are made by hand by either the Doll House Emporium or Falcon Miniatures in America who specialise in high end miniatures.

Margot’s umbrella comes from an online stockist that specialises in miniatures, whilst her red handbag with its gold chain strap comes from Kathleen Knight’s Doll’s House in the United Kingdom

Lettice’s drawing room is furnished with beautiful J.B.M. miniatures. The Art Deco tub chairs are of black japanned wood and have removable cushions, just like their life sized examples. To the left of the fireplace is a Hepplewhite drop-drawer bureau and chair of black japanned wood which has been hand painted with chinoiserie designs, even down the legs and inside the bureau. The Hepplewhite chair has a rattan seat, which has also been hand woven. To the right of the fireplace is a Chippendale cabinet which has also been decorated with chinoiserie designs. It also features very ornate metalwork hinges and locks.

On the top of the Hepplewhite bureau stand three real miniature photos in frames including an Edwardian silver frame, a Victorian brass frame and an Art Deco blue Bakelite and glass frame.

The fireplace is a 1:12 miniature resin Art Deco fireplace which is flanked by brass accessories including an ash brush with real bristles.

On the left hand side of the mantle is an Art Deco metal clock hand painted with wonderful detail by British miniature artisan Victoria Fasken.

In the middle of the mantle is a miniature artisan hand painted Art Deco statue on a “marble” plinth. Made by Warwick Miniatures in England, it is a 1:12 copy of the “Theban Dancer” sculpture created by Claire-Jeanne-Roberte Colinet in 1925.

The carpet beneath the furniture is a copy of a popular 1920s style Chinese silk rug, and the geometric Art Deco wallpaper is beautiful hand impressed paper given to me by a friend, which inspired the whole “Cavendish Mews – Lettice Chetwynd” series.

Posted by raaen99 on 2023-08-13 06:31:56

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