In desperate need of a drink

This is Felix above - gently taking over the whole damn house. Meanwhile, his brother Amory, and his sixteen suitcases are about to arrive…

Amory’s return

Amory was moving out of his apartment, after sharing it with roommates for several years during university. Everything needed to be gone, the landlord insisted.

He had struck a deal with the girls who lived above him. They had come down to see what the boys were selling off “Ohh, we’ve always liked the look of your kitchen table” Originally bought by Amory for $70, he sold it to the girls for $50. Everyone was happy.

He finished cleaning the main living room, his own bedroom, the shared bathroom, and all the corridors. He decided that he was going to leave the kitchen for his other roommate, still fast asleep, like a hibernating bear in a dark, dark cave.

He banged on Colton’s door, who emerged bleary-eyed from his cave. Amory explained, only the kitchen was left to clean. “Throw everything out,” he said and went back to finish packing his room.

A few hours later he returned to the kitchen, it was empty. Colton was standing there, seemingly very pleased with himself. “Wow,” said Amory opening up the fridge, “you’ve even thrown out the butter.” He looked around “Wait, where is the table?” “You said to throw everything out,” said Colton “No, seriously,” said Amory “where is the table?”

“Outside Bro, in the dump, n' pieces. I got an adrenaline rush from the cleaning, dragged it outside, jumped on it, snapped it, tore off the legs and dumped it.”

“You’re joking, right?” said Amory, as the front doorbell rung. It was the girls. “We’ve come for our table,” they said cheerily.

Newfound freedom

I remember reading a marvelous list of suggestions, about how to navigate your emotions when children leave home, feelings of loss, sadness, uncertainty that needed processing. Embracing your newfound freedom was encouraged, pursuing new hobbies, reconnecting with your partner, a chance to focus on yourself.

The marvelous list went on to suggest that you now could turn their rooms into spaces for yourself, perhaps a home spa with a massage chair, hot tub and soothing music, or an artist’s space, somewhere to explore watercolor painting in tranquil solitude.

I must be getting something wrong because as I write I am traveling back home from Amory’s graduation, loaded down with trunks of clothes, photography gear, yoga mats, and senseless amounts of worn-out sneakers, that CAN NOT be retired and MUST BE brought home to his bedroom, already overflowing with forays into different fashion chapters left over from teenage years. My children’s bedrooms are now just vast cupboards spilling out with childhood memories and clothes that apparently can not be edited in anyway.

It gets worse

Felix who had been living overseas for a few months returned home. He must have read the empty nester list and felt inspired, turning his bedroom into an explosion of creative ideas for his clothing brand, when it then became impossible to sleep in his own room he moved into one of his brothers. Slowly this room became a second creative studio, rails were assembled with samples, folding tables were brought in for sewing machines, shoes for fashion shoots laid out.

Soon he found he needed more space, where better than the sitting room, in here he really had a place to organize himself. And his brand. But now a photography studio was essential. All of the furniture was removed from our TV room, providing that clean white backdrop, in came the models, photographer and stylist, but now there was nowhere to lay out the fabric that needed to be cut and draped for the photography sessions. Ah, the garden, there was still free space in the garden….

Need a drink

David and I nearly went berserk with this final move. It just made us want to head to a bar and order a large stiff Idle Assembly rum drink….

Prior to the hurricane in 1999 The Landing, here on Harbour Island, had hardly been decorated since the 1970s. Even then, the changes had not been entirely sympathetic to the character of the building. When we began to re-decorate and re-launch this landmark boutique hotel, we knew designing the bar would be serious business.

We set about creating a counter and storage space that could be made quickly and relatively inexpensively. Made from plywood and crown molding it consisted of a series of pigeonholes constructed like hinged picture frames with glass panels. The design was based on an apothecary shop in Havana's old town. It took two long nights to stain the whole thing to look like mahogany.

Even though David produced detailed drawings with measurements, the designs were allowed to work thanks really to the skill of the local carpenter, who had built our own guesthouse.

After 200 years, few or none of the floors were level and almost none of the corners formed true right angles, so each piece had to be made to measure. The details on the facia of the counter were achieved by attaching halved balustrades.

The design of a bar is a particularly interesting challenge. It needs to be decorative in order to create an atmosphere that will draw business, and it must be functional so that the bartender can find, reach, and dispense quickly when busy.

David based the redesign of the bar on a picture that is created in the minds eye, by Ernest Hemingway and Graham Greene novels. And let’s agree, the significance of cocktail hour has not diminished despite the passing times.

It has certainly not diminished for nesters, and most especially thwarted empty nesters.

Boots made for a bar

Seen here in that Landing Hotel bar, I am wearing boots made from sustainably sourced Italian suede from a gold-rated tannery. These boots are a collaboration between Penelope Chilvers and me. Romantically named The Castaway, because the feeling of being a castaway is still familiar to me, all these years after arriving on Harbour Island fresh from New York, searching for rest, finding love and improbably ending up designing this hotel and bar.