The kitchen feels quite Hitchcockian down one end. Mediterranean Noir I fancy. Over breakfast I'm a hardboiled gum-shoe grilling a platinum blond. It's a signature wall, becoming something of a leitmotif throughout the house. I chose the paint as much for the name 'Bowler hat' as the warm receding charcoal hue. The Raymond Chandelier is just a mobile fashioned from gaudy glass baubles and big vulgar bangles I am both too old and too young to wear right now.
I framed that bowl of tomato soup. It is a photograph by Andy Sewell that I admire enormously. It's only a tear from the FT Weekend Magazine food section but it is so beautifully pared back.