When I was in LA last year I had the most awfully embarrassing experience.
I was walking for miles and miles, in and out of design stores in the LA heat, wearing my trusty silver leather sandals. Roman-like, soft and comfy. Well, half way down Robertson Ave, after walking about a million miles, I tripped on the pavement and the strap between my toe snapped. Nightmare!
So there I was, walking down one of the most glamorous streets in LA with a sandal flopping and flapping in the breeze, with me walking like I had a prosthetic leg but trying to look cool. So I tried to flag down a cab and return to my hotel to change shoes, but do you think I could find a cab in LA? No chance.
I walked, and walked, and walked. Flopping and flapping, stumbling and looking very uncool as I passed all these high end, glamorous and ultra chic stores, and impossibly chic LA residents driving expensive cars and wearing designer clothes, and there's me with my flappy shoe and red face, while dodging paparazzi trying to chase a Kardashian into a nearby restaurant.
I can't tell you how desperate I was to find a simple clothing store, or shoe shop or anything. I would have paid $500 for a pair of rubber thongs to get me out of the humiliation, but no, they were all just gorgeous interiors stores one after another.
Eventually I stumbled across Christopher Peacock Kitchens. I love many of his designs, often with a classic English aesthetic and have had photos of his kitchens in my inspiration folders for years. So I fell into the showroom and was welcomed by a nice fellow. I tried to disguise my floppy thong, then couldn't pretend anymore and had to confess. He looked as embarrassed as me and painfully awkward as he tried not to look uncomfortable about the whole affair. I felt so gauche.
Eventually, after making small talk about how much I loved their kitchens I got up the balls to ask for some sticky tape and some rubber bands and with complete embarrassment and utter humiliation, I plonked my foot up on his marble benchtop and strapped my shoe to my foot with rubber bands and sticky tape.
Then, despite signs everywhere saying "No Photographs" I figured I'd earned the right to take some, so I snapped a whole lot of photos of my dream kitchen and hobbled out!
The profile of the cabinets I copied for our kitchen.
Here are the forbidden photos - and boy were they worth it. The details are just beautiful. Hope they provide inspiration if you're planning a new kitchen.
And here's his very own gorgeous kitchen that we've all seen a hundred times from Traditional Home.
And a few others.
Images by Melinda Hartwright and here at Pinterest