An Assignation Beyond the Exposition Internationale des Arts Décoratifs et Industriels Modernes

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, we are far from Cavendish Mews. We are not even in England as we follow Lettice, her fiancée, Sir John Nettleford Hughes, and her widowed future sister-in-law, Clementine (known preferably now by the more cosmopolitan Clemance) Pontefract on their adventures on their visit to Paris.

 

Old enough to be Lettice’s father, wealthy Sir John was until recently still a bachelor, and according to London society gossip intended to remain so, so that he might continue to enjoy his dalliances with a string of pretty chorus girls of Lettice’s age and younger. After an abrupt ending to her understanding with Selwyn Spencely, son and heir to the title Duke of Walmsford, Lettice in a moment of both weakness and resolve, agreed to the proposal of marriage proffered to her by Sir John. More like a business arrangement than a marriage proposal, Sir John offered Lettice the opportunity to enjoy the benefits of his large fortune, be chatelain of all his estates and continue to have her interior design business, under the conditions that she agree to provide him with an heir, and that he be allowed to discreetly carry on his affairs in spite of their marriage vows. He even suggested that Lettice might be afforded the opportunity to have her own extra marital liaisons if she were discreet about them.

 

The trio have travelled to Paris so that Lettice may attend the ‘Exposition Internationale des Arts Décoratifs et Industriels Modernes’* which is highlighting and showcasing the new modern style of architecture and interior design known as Art Deco of which Lettice is an exponent. Now that Lettice has finished her commission for a feature wall at the Essex country retreat of the world famous British concert pianist Sylvia Fordyce, Lettice is moving on to her next project: a series of principal rooms in the Queen Anne’s Gate** home for Dolly Hatchett, the wife of Labour MP for Towers Hamlets*** Charles Hatchett, for whom she has done work before. Mrs. Hatchett wants a series of stylish formal rooms in which to entertain her husband’s and her own influential friends in style and elegance, and has given Lettice carte-blanche to decorate as she sees fit to provide the perfect interior for her. Lettice hopes to beat the vanguard of modernity and be a leader in the promotion of the sleek and uncluttered lines of the new Style Moderne**** which has arisen as a dynamic new movement at the exhibition.

 

We find ourselves in the Hotel du Collectionneur, a stylised Art Deco pavilion with a large central rounded bay designed by architect Pierre Patout***** within the grounds of Exposition des Arts Decoratifs et Industriels Modernes. For the first time at an international exposition, pieces of furniture are being displayed not as individual items but in rooms, similar to those in a home, where all the decor is coordinated. The works of the French furniture maker Émile-Jacques Ruhlmann****** are displayed around Lettice, Clemance and Sir John in rooms complete with paintings and fireplaces in the same modern style as the building itself. Joining hundreds of other Parisians and foreign visitors to the exhibition, the trio enter the pavilion where the appreciative voices of visitors in dozens of languages burble together in one vociferous cacophony beneath the ceilings of the Hotel du Collectionneur’s lofty ornamented plaster ceilings.

 

“Oh!” Lettice gasps as she steps into the room. “Clemance! John! Isn’t it glorious?”

 

She stops and takes stock as she admires her surrounds. Set up like a drawing room, the display interior is stripped back of excess ornamentation and furniture, allowing what choice pieces have been selected to grace the room to shine in their right, from the geometrically patterned lounge suite with its sleek, rounded shapes to the brightly hand painted ornaments placed artfully and sparingly on surfaces, to the amazing geometric wallpaper which requires no paintings to hang upon its surface for it is its own feature.

 

Sir John looks about him with a bored look, unimpressed by the geometric designs and sharp edges that he sees as he stifles a yawn, and remains silent.

 

“Quite glorious, Lettice my dear!” Clemance agrees with Lettice purringly as she admires the décor around her with an appreciative eye, her gaze alighting upon an elegant tea set, hand painted with bright interconnecting circles, set out on a low black japanned table between the sofa and an armchair.

 

“But?” Lettice turns and looks at the older woman who has a flicker of doubt in the eyes, asking her future sister-in-law to complete her thought.

 

“Well,” Clemance goes on. “I mean, I love it, Lettice my dear. It’s so… so sleek and stylish and frightfully modern.”

 

“But?” Lettice persists.

 

“Well, however much I like it, and I do my dear, I just don’t think I could bear to have a room so starkly furnished as this, and I should never want to give up all my pretty little bibelots*******.” She raises her gloved hand to her throat and worries the two strands of creamy pearls hanging there. “Could you really see the matrons of Mayfair or Holland Park, like me, sacrificing all their chintz and ornaments for this more streamlined look?”

 

Lettice considers what Clemance has said as she eyes the room’s details with a critical eye. In her mind, the room is just perfect, with its stripped back décor which reflects her own uncluttered and modern style at Cavendish Mews.

 

“As I said, I do like it, Lettice,” Clemance reiterates. “However, it would be too radical a change for me.”

 

“I do believe that under the correct stewardship, with the right patrons, that the Art Deco movement could take root in Great Britain, Clemance. Perhaps not quite in this form,” She looks around her again. “But perhaps in a slightly more subtle, and British way.”

 

Sir John snorts derisively at Lettice’s remark.

 

“Then I am afraid that I’m not your exponent, Lettice my dear.” Clemance apologises.

 

“I never expected you to be, Clemance.” Lettice replies, ignoring her fiancée’s snort. “You’ll forgive me for saying this, but you are not the audience I am trying to engage. It is the younger set, the likes of my friends Dickie and Margot Channon, or Minnie Palmerston.”

 

“Or perhaps more to the point, Dolly Hatchett, dare I hesitate to add?” Clemance asks.

 

“Exactly!” Lettice concurs. “They are the people who crave change, modernity and a new world. They are the ones who have yet to become attached to the styles created in the past and want to forge their own new look.”

 

“I must seem terribly irrelevant, Lettice my dear.” Clemance says with an apologetic lilt in her voice.

 

“Oh, not at all, Clemance!” Lettice assures her, linking her arm though her future sister-in-law’s and squeezing her hand comfortingly. “You were once at the vanguard of fashion, Clemance. How could you fail not to, living here in Paris, where new trends begin? However, for styles to evolve, it must be left in the hands of the next generation.”

 

“Yes, I read in the newspapers about the seismic changes afoot in our society at the hands of you Bright Young Things********. The days of influence for the likes of The Souls*********, The Coterie********** and people like me ceased with the first whistle of the Great War, just like the Cave of the Golden Calf***********. Now it is de rigueur for young people like you to dance until all hours at nightclubs and drink cocktails on the terrace at four. Only a lucky few like dear Sylvia have managed to transition successfully from the old to the new and remain in fashion.”

 

“Goodness knows what the Prince of Wales will do when he becomes our new King.” Sir John opines. “Probably fling every tradition out, along with the Georgian furniture, and fill Buck House with those ghastly, vulgar Americans he is so fond of, and debutantes will be presented to him over cocktails.”

 

“Perhaps the Establishment need a bit of a shake up.” Lettice addresses Sir John, but her remark receives a withering look. Turning her attentions back to Clemance, she goes on, “You’re not a washed up old rag, you know Clemance?”

 

“Oh, I feel like it some days, Lettice my dear.” Clemance admits. “I’m only glad that dear sweet little Josette,” She refers to her pet canary. “Doesn’t care whether I am in vogue or not.”

 

“Well, it was very good of you to accompany me to the Exposition Internationale des Arts Décoratifs et Industriels Modernes, and to introduce me to some of your coterie of old Parisian friends whilst we are visiting the capital.” Lettice silently discounts Madeline Flanton, the glamorous silent film star actress employed at Cinégraphic************ who is also an old flame of Sir John’s, and a woman that judging by his subtle, yet not subtle enough for Lettice not to notice, overtures indicate, still has Sir John in her thrall in spite of the fact that she is much older than his usual conquests. “And of course, John too.” Lettice turns her attention back to her fiancée, who has been trailing the two women through the different pavilions, following in their chatty wake in relative silence for the most part, except when posed a question by either one of them.

 

Sir John stands out as English amongst the other European gentleman milling around the pavilion’s room, dressed in his smart and well-cut Jermyn Street************* tweed suit. There is a formality and stiffness to him as he leans on his silver topped walking cane. His handsome, older face with its pale patrician skin and maze of lines and wrinkles cannot help but betray his boredom as his eyes flit in a desultory manner over the furnishings, ornaments and papered walls around him. Unaware that he is being observed, he tries to stifle a yawn, muffling it behind his glove clad hand.

 

“Oh my dear Nettie,” Clemance remarks, using the nickname she coined that is only used by Sir John’s closest family, friends and confidants. “Is as much of a pretender as me.” She chuckles. “I know you met him at the Portland Gallery one night, but don’t let that fool you, Lettice my dear. He was only escorting Priscilla Carter out of a sense of duty, because her husband was otherwise engaged that evening.”

 

“Yes, so he intimated that night.”

 

“My brother, my dear Lettice, despite his pretences, is as much of an old fashioned traditionalist as me.”

 

“Don’t think I don’t know when I’m being spoken about, Clemmie,” Sir John says with a mirthful lilt as he suddenly frees himself of his statuesque stillness and turns his whole body towards Lettice and his sister with linked arms, and strides across the geometrically patterned Art Deco carpet woven in greens, Eau de Nil************** and blues. He smiles a weak smile as he reaches their side, and adds, “Or hear it, for that matter.” He gives Clemance a mock doleful gaze, his blue eyes glinting with the light cast by the Art Deco lamps suspended overhead.

 

“Sorry, Nettie darling!” Clemance apologises, blanching as she does.

 

Cocking a well-manicured eyebrow, Sir John remarks, “Discretion was never your strongest suit, dear Clemmie.”

 

“I was merely remarking that, like me, you are a traditionalist, Nettie, and in spite of your appearance there, you would not go in for the styles of Mr. Chilvers and the Portland Gallery, any more than you would be an exponent of the décor shown here.”

 

“I did buy Lettice the daub from the Portland Gallery by that fingerpainter that she liked so much as an engagement gift, dear Clemmie.” Sir John points out, turning to his fiancée for her agreement. “Oh! What’s his name again? Paolo something-or-other?”

 

“Picasso.” Lettice elucidates with a gentle smile directed at him. “Pablo Picasso.”

 

“I arrest my case!” Clemance says, waving her free right hand expansively at her brother. “He’s a traditionalist, through and through, in spite of his pretences decrying outherwise.”

 

“I never denied that I was, Clemmie. I have no time for all this modernity,” He gesticulates around him rather stiffly. “When the furnishings of the Georgian era still serve us just as well today as they did several centuries ago. I cannot see people in a century looking back with fondness upon this new modern style. There is no flair to it, no real craftsmanship.”

 

“Oh John!” Lettice gasps. “How can you say that when you are surrounded by such superb craftsmanship made by Monsieur Ruhlmann?”

 

“I just don’t believe it, Lettice my dear. And to counter your remark, Clemmie darling, I did agree that Lettice could hang the modernist daubs she favours around our Belgravia townhouse once we’re married, so long as she left my library, dressing room and study alone.”

 

“He did, Clemance.” Lettice agrees.

 

“My, my!” Clemance exclaims. “You are full of surprises today, Nettie darling! Such a concession, Lettice my dear! My brother must love you very deeply indeed, to agree to that.”

 

Although she doesn’t mean it to do so, Clemance’s words sting Lettice as they reach her ears. Lettice and Sir John have had numerous discussions in private about what their married life will look like. Sir John has made no illusions to a grand passion or deep romance with Lettice. His proposal of marriage is just that: a proposal, a business proposition, allowing him the opportunity to take an understanding wife and thus ensure the continuation of the venerated Nettleford-Hughes name with an heir, whilst carrying on with his usual string of expendable younger lovers as is his wont. Lettice in return gets to be the chatelaine of all the Nettleford-Hughes’ family properties throughout England, and perhaps more importantly is allowed freedoms unthinkable of most married women in her position: freedom to be independent, freedom to continue to run her interior design business and carry on its successes with the unwavering support of her husband. However, the longer their engagement goes on, the more Lettice yearns for what she had with her former intended, Selwyn Spencely, son of the Duke and Duchess of Walmsford. Theirs had been a happy and easy relationship, full of love and affection, until Selwyn’s mother, Lady Zinnia interfered and broke their understanding, as per her own scheming. There is none of that free and easy, natural love between Lettice and Sir John. He has admitted to being fond of her, but he has repeatedly said that she cannot ask, nor expect love like that from him. It is a preserve for his Gaiety Girls*************** and actresses, like Paula Young, who currently occupies his sumptuous bed.

 

“Of course I do, Clemmie!” Sir John winds his arm around Lettice and his long, elegant fingers, clad in grey morning gloves, squeeze Lettice’s upper right arm territorially.

 

Lettice cannot help but go stiff at his touch, not that he seems to notice as he smiles smugly at his sister, the confidence at being a wealthy male aristocrat oozing from his every pore as he stands at her side. The hollowness of the statement rings in Lettice’s ears, and she finds that keeping up the charade of the happy young bride-to-be is growing ever more difficult with each passing day.

 

“And have I not faithfully trailed you all morning, through pavilion after pavilion as you two prattle away nineteen to the dozen****************, oohing and aahing over this glass vase, or that?”

 

“True,” Clemance agrees. “We cannot fault him for his attendance, even if it is a little distracted, can we Lettice my dear?”

 

“Indeed no.” Lettice replies a little hollowly, looking up at her fiancée.

 

“Then might I call upon your kindness, dear ladies, and be given your permission to withdraw, and leave you two unchaperoned, whilst I visit some old friends of mine here in Paris who invited me for luncheon? I suspect that neither of you will come to any harm here.”

 

“He’s bored with our company, evidently.” Clemance says with a cheeky wink at Lettice.

 

“No, I really have been invited to luncheon, Clemmie. Remember I told you about my previous engagement, Lettice my dear?” He looks meaningfully at his diminutive fiancée who suddenly seems frail and vulnerable. “We discussed this even before we left for Paris. You can join me later in the early evening for cocktails.”

 

“Yes, yes of course, John.” Lettice replies with false joviality, not giving away her own reality of inner turmoil. “I remember.”

 

How could Lettice forget the conversation she and Sir John had at the Savoy***************** when she first mentioned that she wanted to visit the Exposition Internationale des Arts Décoratifs et Industriels Modernes in Paris. His counter proposal involved him attending the exhibition in the mornings, before slipping away and meeting up with Madeline Flanton in the afternoon. Determined not to lose face over this suggestion, Lettice suggested that perhaps she could meet Mademoiselle Flanton as well. Rather than balk at the idea, as she had in her heart-of-hearts hoped he might, Sir John warmed quickly to Lettice’s idea, suggesting that if they both went to Mademoiselle Flanton’s apartment for cocktails, the Parisian media wouldn’t question Sir John visiting her, and any whiff of scandal would thus be avoided. He suggested that after a few polite social cocktails with Mademoiselle Flanton, she and Sir John could escort Lettice out via the back entrance to her apartment into a waiting taxi to return her to the hotel that she, Sir John and Clemance have arranged to stay at, leaving Sir John to spend the rest of the night with Mademoiselle Flanton.

 

“Oh, let’s put Nettie out of his misery, shall we Lettice my dear?” Clemance laughs good naturedly, unaware of the truth behind her brother’s Parisian assignation. “Go then! Go join your racing friends at the Jockey Club de Paris******************, and discuss the Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe******************* over whisky and cigars. Lettice and I would hardly want to join you even if we could, when we have all the distractions of the exposition to amuse us. You don’t mind, do you Lettice?”

 

Lettice stands silent for a moment, her pale blue eyes sparkling with unshed tears as she glances at her fiancée, who returns her look with a steely one of his own, full of serious, unspoken meaning.

 

“Lettice?” Clemance persists.

 

“No!” Lettice replies, shaking her head like she is trying to rid herself of an irritating insect buzzing about her head. She blinks back the tears quickly. “No, of course I don’t mind. As you say, John darling. I did know about this arrangement, and I should be ungrateful for your company this morning if I expected you to stay here with Clemance and I, rather than see your friends at the agreed time.”

 

“Thank you, Lettice my dear.” Sir John purrs, his broad smile oily with pleasure. “I knew I could rely upon your word. But I will see you this evening, as we agreed?”

 

“As we agreed.” Lettice acknowledges with a nod.

 

“Excellent!” Sir John beams, clasping the top of his walking stick just a bit more tightly. “I shall collect you from the hotel at five o’clock then, and we’ll go for cocktails?”

 

Lettice nods and smiles brightly, hoping that Clemance won’t notice the falseness in it.

 

“Oh, I do wish I could join you.” Clemance sighs heavily. “But I have plans to see Monsieur and Madame Dupin tonight.”

 

“Oh, that’s a pity Clemmie darling.” Sir John says, perhaps a little too brightly, but luckily his sister is so focussed upon her own plans that she doesn’t notice his gayety.

 

“Who are you two meeting for cocktails this evening?” Clemance continues.

 

“Oh, just Madeline Flanton and a few of her fellow actor friends from Cinégraphic.” Sir John replies nonchalantly.

 

“Again?” Clemance opines. “But you only saw her at the picnic we had in the Tuileries******************** the other day.”

 

“I know, but you remember how Madeline and I have always gotten along. We were chatting so much the other day, and we still didn’t fit in all that we wanted to say to one another. Besides, she was rather taken with Lettice.” He pulls Lettice a little more closely to him. “And would like to get to know her better.”

 

“Well, you must have made quite the impression on Mademoiselle Flanton, Lettice my dear!” Clemance enthuses. “With so many hangers-on wanting to ingratiate themselves to her, she is very select as to whom she befriends. Lucky you! There are few better placed in Paris to show you a wonderful evening, my dear. Mademoiselle Flanton knows all the very best and most glittering night spots and she can always secure one of the best tables at the popular restaurants with her famous moving picture presence.”

 

“Oh, it’s just an intimate evening, tonight.” Sir John assures his sister. “As I said, just her and a few of her fellow acting friends from the moving picture studio.”

 

“That’s how her evenings always begin.” Clemance laughs. “And well you know it!” She turns her attentions to Lettice. “I should wear something a little more smart and select than you would usually wear to cocktails, Lettice my dear.” she goes on sagely. “I wouldn’t be at all surprised if you ended up Buffet de la Gare de Lyon********************* or Romano’s**********************.”

 

“Thank you, Clemance.” Lettice replies a little awkwardly. “I’ll do that. I just hope that I have something to match Mademoiselle Flanton’s style.”

 

“You will Lettice my dear. You have such excellent taste. The Dupins and I are dining at Le Select*********************** in the sixth arrondissment tonight, and they have made the arrangements. It would be impolite of me if I were to withdraw now.”

 

“Montparnasse, Clemance.” Lettice remarks, anxious to switch the subject to where her future sister-in-law is dining. “How thrilling! All those artists, writers, and intellectuals, all gathered under the one roof.”

 

“Well, the Dupins are both intellectuals themselves, so however much I may be a little jealous of you enjoying the company of Mademoiselle Flanton and her coterie, I know that I will have a splendid evening of my own in their company.”

 

“Well ladies, if you’ll kindly excuse me,” Sir John interrupts Clemance politely. “The gentlemen of Jockey Club await.”

 

“Do try and keep out of trouble, Nettie darling.” Clemance warns him. “Please don’t turn up tight************************ when you pick Lettice up from the hotel and go on to Mademoiselle Flanton.”

 

“Always my fussing sister,” Sir John chuckles lightly as he leans across and places a firm kiss on Clemance’s right cheek. “I promise I won’t be led astray by any men.”

 

Lettice scoffs quietly, thinking of the fact that Sir John’s assurances to his unaware sister are true, since the whole idea of friends at the Jockey Club de Paris was concocted by Clemance from her own assumptions about him. Sir John simply played along, not contradicting her, and leaving off his real assignation. The truth of Sir John being led astray by a woman, namely Madeline Flanton before picking Lettice up for cocktails at five was highly more likely. In fact, if she were a betting woman, Lettice would say it was a certainty.

 

“Until later, Lettice my dear.” Sir John growls softly as he takes up her fiancée’s left hand in his and draws it to his lips and kisses it.

 

Lettice quickly withdraws her hand from Sir John’s touch, feeling a repugnance for him that she hasn’t felt since she saw him at her mother’s Hunt Ball back in 1922. Not only is he lying to his sister, but he is making Lettice an accomplice to his lie, and the idea of him bedding a woman like Madeline Flanton with her peroxided hair, heavily rouged lips and kohl************************ rimmed eyes makes her feel nauseous.

 

“Don’t be late, will you John?” she manages to say weakly.

 

“Have I ever been late to an engagement with you, Lettice my dear?” he queries in return.

 

Lettice shakes her head shallowly.

 

As the two women watch the diminishing sight of Sir John’s tweed covered back disappear into the milling crowd around them, Clemance remarks with a chuckle, “Well, Nettie seemed in rather a hurry to leave. Still, I don’t suppose I blame him. The Exposition Internationale des Arts Décoratifs et Industriels Modernes wouldn’t exactly be his first choice of haunts in Paris. Never mind, Lettice my dear,” She squeezes Lettice’s arm comfortingly and smiles happily at her. “We’ll have a better time without him trailing us like an unwilling dog on a walk.”

 

*International Exhibition of Modern Decorative and Industrial Arts was a specialized exhibition held in Paris, from April the 29th (the day after it was inaugurated in a private ceremony by the President of France) to October the 25th, 1925. It was designed by the French government to highlight the new modern style of architecture, interior decoration, furniture, glass, jewellery and other decorative arts in Europe and throughout the world. Many ideas of the international avant-garde in the fields of architecture and applied arts were presented for the first time at the exposition. The event took place between the esplanade of Les Invalides and the entrances of the Grand Palais and Petit Palais, and on both banks of the Seine. There were fifteen thousand exhibitors from twenty different countries, and it was visited by sixteen million people during its seven-month run. The modern style presented at the exposition later became known as “Art Deco”, after the exposition's name.

 

**Queen Anne’s Gate is a street in Westminster, London. Many of the buildings are Grade I listed, known for their Queen Anne architecture. Simon Bradley and Nikolaus Pevsner described the Gate’s early Eighteenth Century houses as “the best of their kind in London.” The street’s proximity to the Palace of Westminster made it a popular residential area for politicians.

 

***The London constituency of Tower Hamlets includes such areas and historic towns as (roughly from west to east) Spitalfields, Whitechapel, Bethnal Green, Wapping, Shadwell, Mile End, Stepney, Limehouse, Old Ford, Bow, Bromley, Poplar, and the Isle of Dogs (with Millwall, the West India Docks, and Cubitt Town), making it a majority working class constituency in 1925 when this story is set. Tower Hamlets included some of the worst slums and societal issues of inequality and poverty in England at that time.

 

****"Style Moderne," often used interchangeably with "Streamline Moderne" or "Art Moderne," is a design style that emerged in the 1930s, characterized by aerodynamic forms, horizontal lines, and smooth, rounded surfaces, often inspired by transportation and industrial design. It represents a streamlined, less ornate version of Art Deco, emphasizing functionality and sleekness. It was first shown at the Paris International Exhibition of Modern Decorative and Industrial Arts of 1925.

 

*****Pierre Patout was a French architect and interior designer, who was one of the major figures of the Art Deco movement, as well as a pioneer of Streamline Moderne design. His works included the design of the main entrance and the Pavilion d'un Collecteur at the International Exhibition of Modern Decorative and Industrial Arts in Paris in 1925, and the interiors of the ocean liner Normandie and other French transatlantic liners in the 1930s.

 

******Émile-Jacques Ruhlmann was a French furniture designer and interior decorator, who was one of the most important figures in the Art Deco movement. His furniture featured sleek designs, expensive and exotic materials and extremely fine craftsmanship, and became a symbol of the luxury and modernity of Art Deco. It also produced a reaction from other designers and architects, such as Le Corbusier, who called for simpler, functional furniture.

 

*******A bibelot is a small decorative ornament or trinket.

 

********The Bright Young Things, or Bright Young People, was a nickname given by the tabloid press to a group of Bohemian young aristocrats and socialites in 1920s London.

 

*********The Souls was a small loosely-knit but distinctive elite social and intellectual group in the United Kingdom from 1885 to the turn of the century. Many of the most distinguished British politicians and intellectuals of the time were members. The original group of Souls reached its zenith in the early 1890s and had faded out as a coherent clique by 1900.

 

**********The Coterie, often considered to be the second generation of The Souls, was a celebrated group of intellectuals, a mix of aristocrats, politicians and art-lovers, most of whom were killed in the First World War. There were children of The Souls among them, notably Lady Diana Manners, daughter of Violet Manners, Duchess of Rutland, Duff Cooper and Raymond Asquith, eldest son of Prime Minister H. H. Asquith, who was killed on the Somme.

 

***********The Cave of the Golden Calf was a night club in London. In existence for only two years immediately before the First World War, it epitomised decadence, and still inspires cultural events. Its name is a reference to the Golden Calf of the Biblical story, a symbol of impermissible worship. It opened in an underground location in the basements from 3 to 9 Heddon Street, near Regent Street, in 1912 and became a haunt for the wealthy and aristocratic classes, as well as bohemian artists in search of a European-style cabaret. Its creator Frida Strindberg set it up as an avant-garde and artistic venture. It introduced London to new concepts of nightlife and provided a solid model for future nightclubs.

 

************Cinégraphic was a French film production company founded by director Marcel L'Herbier in the 1920s. It was established following a disagreement between L'Herbier and the Gaumont Company, a major film distributor, over the film "Don Juan et Faust". Cinégraphic was involved in the production of several films, including "Don Juan et Faust" itself. Cinégraphic focused on more experimental and artistic films.

 

*************Jermyn Street is a one-way street in the St James's area of the City of Westminster in London. It is to the south of, parallel, and adjacent to Piccadilly. Jermyn Street is known as a street for high end gentlemen's clothing retailers and bespoke tailors in the West End.

 

**************Eau de Nil is a pale, greenish-blue color, often described as a light or pastel shade. It is a cool color with a tranquil quality, sometimes described as having a bluish cast with tan or yellowish undertones. The name, meaning "water of the Nile", reflects its origin in the shimmering, pale blue-green color of the River Nile. It was a particularly popular colour in the 1920s and 30s, and the name came about because of the Egyptomania that struck the world after Howard carter uncovered Tutankhamun’s tomb un the Valley of the Kings in 1922.

 

***************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.

 

****************We are all familiar with the phrase “ten to the dozen’” which means someone who talks fast. However, the original expression is actually “nineteen to the dozen”. Why nineteen, you ask? Many sources say we simply don’t know, but there are other sources that claim it goes back to the Cornish tin and copper mines, which regularly flooded. With advancements in steam technology, the hand pumps they used to pump out this water were replaced by beam engines that could pump 19,000 gallons of water out for every twelve bushels of coal burned (much more efficient than the hand pumps!)

 

*****************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 Jockey Club de Paris is located at 2 rue Rabelais. It was (and still is) one of the most prestigious private clubs in Paris, known for its aristocratic and elite membership. The Jockey Club was originally organized as the "Society for the Encouragement of the Improvement of Horse Breeding in France", to provide a single authority for horse racing in the nation, beginning at Chantilly in 1834. It swiftly became the centre for the most sportifs or "sportsmen" gentlemen of le Tout-Paris. At the same time, when aristocrats and men of the haute bourgeoisie still formed the governing class, its Anglo-Gallic membership could not fail to give it some political colour: Napoleon III, who had passed some early exile in England, asserted that he had learned to govern an empire through "his intercourse with the calm, self-possessed men of the English turf". Between 1833 and 1860, the Jockey Club transformed the Champ de Mars into a racecourse, which has since been transferred to Longchamp. One front of the Café de la Paix is in rue Scribe, which ends at the façade of the Opéra Garnier. On the wall is a memorial plaque on the Hotel Scribe, at number 1, which records the former premises of the Jockey Club, which occupied luxurious quarters on the first floor from 1863 to 1913. On the ground floor beneath the Jockey Club was the fashionable Grand Café. There, on the 28th of December 1895, a stylish crowd in the Salon Indien attended the public début of the Lumière brothers' invention, the cinematograph.

 

*******************The Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe is a Group one flat horse race in France open to thoroughbreds aged three years or older. It is run at Longchamp Racecourse in Paris over a distance of 2,400 metres (one mile four furlongs). The race is scheduled to take place each year, usually on the first Sunday in October. Popularly referred to as the "Arc", it is the world's most prestigious all-aged horse race. Its roll of honour features many highly acclaimed horses, and its winners are often subsequently regarded as champions. It is currently the world's seventh-richest turf race and tenth-richest horse race on any surface. The Société d'Encouragement, a former governing body of French racing, had initially restricted its races to thoroughbreds born and bred in France. In 1863, it launched the Grand Prix de Paris, an event designed to bring together the best three-year-olds from any country. Thirty years later, it introduced the Prix du Conseil Municipal, an international race for the leading horses of different age groups. It was run over 2,400 metres in October, with weights determined by a horse's previous performances. The creation of a third such race was proposed at a committee meeting on 24 January 1920. The new event would complement the Grand Prix de Paris and serve as a showcase for French thoroughbred breeding. It would have similar characteristics to the Prix du Conseil Municipal, but each horse would compete on equal terms, unpenalised for previous victories. Coming in the wake of the First World War, it was decided that the race would be named after the Arc de Triomphe, a famous monument which had been the scene of a victory parade by the Allies in 1919. The chosen title had been previously assigned to a minor event at Longchamp. Another suggested title was the "Prix de la Victoire".

 

********************The Tuileries Garden is a public garden between the Louvre and the Place de la Concorde in the first arrondissement of Paris. Created by Catherine de' Medici as the garden of the Tuileries Palace in 1564, it was opened to the public in 1667 and became a public park after the French Revolution. Since the Nineteenth Century, it has been a place for Parisians to celebrate, meet, stroll and relax.

 

*********************Buffet de la Gare de Lyon – now known as Le Train Bleu ("The Blue Train") is a restaurant located in the hall of the Gare de Lyon railway station in Paris. The restaurant was originally created for the Exposition Universelle of 1900. Each ornate dining room is themed to represent cities and regions of France and they are decorated with forty-one paintings by some of the most popular artists of that time. Initially called "Buffet de la Gare de Lyon", it was renamed "Le Train Bleu" in 1963, after the famous train of the same name. The restaurant's food menu[1] is based on traditional French cuisine.

 

**********************Romano’s was a famous Parisian Restaurant in the Hotel de la Grand Bretagne that flourished in the Jazz Age of the 1920s. The Hotel de la Grand Bretagne at 14 Rue Caumartin might have been ever so slightly off the beaten track but the Rue Caumartin did become a major and thriving area in the 1920s. Romano’s was always listed in the French press as one of Les Grands Restaurants along with such salubrious places as Cafe de Paris, Le Boeuf Sur Le Toit and Ciro’s. Romano’s thrived during the 1920s with a classical concert under the baton of Leon Zighera at dinner, dancing to a jazz band from after dinner to midnight and the attractions of an American bar – that in 1925 was briefly called The Cecil. However, by 1930 listings of Romano’s cease to appear in the French press as its days as a destination restaurant came to an end. In 1938 the hotel and restaurant was bought by the Parisian luxury food company La Doulce. It intended to provide lunches, afternoon tea, dinner and dancing, but it is not clear if this in fact happened.

 

***********************Le Select is a historic Parisian cafe located in the Montparnasse district, known for its vibrant artistic and literary scene in the 1920s and beyond. It opened in 1923 and quickly became a popular gathering spot for artists, writers, and intellectuals. The cafe has maintained its classic Parisian ambiance and continues to be a beloved destination for both locals and tourists.

 

***********************To get tight is an old fashioned term used to describe getting drunk.

 

************************Kohl is a cosmetic product, specifically an eyeliner, traditionally made from crushed stibnite (antimony sulfide). Modern formulations often include galena (lead sulfide) or other pigments like charcoal. Kohl is known for its ability to darken the edges of the eyelids, creating a striking, eye-enhancing effect. Kohl has a long history, with ancient Egyptians using it to define their eyes and protect them from the sun and dust, however there was a resurgence in its use in the 1920s and 1930s. In the 1920s, kohl eyeliner was a popular makeup trend, particularly among women embracing the "flapper" aesthetic. It was used to create a dramatic, "smoky eye" look by smudging it onto the lash line and even the inner and outer corners of the eyes. This contrasted with the more demure, natural looks favoured in the pre-war era.

 

This beautifully appointed salon, decorated in the height of Art Deco modernity may appear real to you, but it is in fact made up entirely of pieces from my 1:12 miniatures collection.

 

Fun things to look for in this tableau include:

 

The sofa and chair are beautiful J.B.M. miniatures. The stylised Art Deco soft furnishings with their striking geometric patterns have removable cushions, just like their life sized examples.

 

The fireplace is a 1:12 miniature resin Art Deco fireplace, and the hearth is in reality an antique green glazed tile from my collection of tiles. The electric Art Deco three bar heater would have been the height of luxury and modernity in 1925. Painted fashionable Eau-de-Nil, it comes from Kathleen Knight’s Doll’s House Shop in the United Kingdom.

 

In the middle of the mantle is an Art Deco metal clock hand painted with wonderful detail by British miniature artisan Victoria Fasken. The Art Deco picture frame in blue Bakelite on the left of the clock comes from Doreen Jeffries Small Wonders Miniatures store in the United Kingdom. It features a real photo, produced to high standards in 1:12 size on photographic paper by Little Things Dollhouse Miniatures in Lancashire.

 

The vase on the mantle and the Clarice Cliff style dancers to the left of the photograph are hand painted miniature artisan pieces, designed in the Art Deco style of the paintress’ designs. They were obtained from Kathleen Knight’s Doll’s House Shop. Made of polymer clay that are moulded on wires to allow them to be shaped at will and put into individually formed floral arrangements, the very realistic looking red and white tulips are made by a 1:12 miniature specialist in Germany.

 

The tea set in the foreground bears a pattern by the contemporary to Clarice Cliff, Susy Cooper, who was famous for her interconnecting and overlapping circles design. These were painted by hand by the English miniature ceramic artist, Rachael Munday, whose work is always of high quality and highly sought after my miniature collectors around the world.

 

The Geometrically patterned Art Deco carpet on the floor comes from a miniatures specialist store on E-Bay.

 

The stylised Art Deco wallpaper I printed myself from an original 1920s design.

Done