Andy Murray, Sporty Families, No Whining, Good Summer Trousers and Wow House

Pots of joy outside Wow House - I must must must get some aeonium.

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Last night I was invited by a brilliant friend to see Andy Murray talking about his life at the Hammersmith Apollo. This brilliant friend is an incredibly talented garden designer, but she also has a total passion for sport. She married someone who shares this passion, and they have obviously had two children who are naturally sporty and are the sort who win all the races and matches at school. This is due I think to the fact that sport is a family affair…They watch all kinds of sport on the telly, as a family and they go to away matches for their favourite football team, as a family, and they go on family holidays where golf, or tennis or whatever takes centre stage, and obviously they are always out doing sport with their children, because they love it and it comes naturally to all of them.

How wonderful. I adore families like this. They also come in musical form, these families. The musical families are always playing their instruments or singing. Musical families have their instruments out and ready to play at all times (I made a play at doing this by buying special violin hooks so that the tiny violins would never be put in their cases, and could just be grabbed and practiced with the least amount of faff). The problem is, though, that we are not, in essence, a musical family. We love music but we do not spontaneously pick up our instruments or burst into song. So the tiny violins are just there, on the wall, because the children gave up playing them years ago…and I am so sentimentally attached to them that I cannot let them go. So silly.

But back to Andy Murray. My brilliant friend bought tickets to this thing for her husband for Christmas, but guess what…her husband bought her tickets to go and see Dua Lipa…on the same day. I know…they are the most gorgeous couple…so they had to divide things up. He took their daughter to Wembley for boiling hot Dua Lipa action, and I got invited to see Andy Murray.

I can report that Andy Murray is very funny. He has an extremely dead-pan sense of humour that needs time and the right conditions to show itself. Interviews about tennis on the telly aren’t really a very good vehicle for this, and anyway, we don’t need him to be funny do we…we need him (we needed him) to be epic at tennis, which he is. Hurrah! He started hitting tennis balls into the audience at the end and I was so eager to catch one that I sort of stabbed the person in front of me in the back of her hand with my fingernail. So embarrassing. She looked back at me reproachfully. Oh dear. When I got back home everyone was in bed…lying in the boiling hot night.

God it was boiling. I had to call an actual meeting with the children to remind them that I don’t tolerate whining, particularly about the weather, which - amazingly - I cannot control. I’m not great with serious heat in London…I get crotchety and slightly desperate and unable to think. Children telling me that they’re hot verily sends me over the edge. Everyone needs to just sit quietly inside their own skin, smile serenely and see it through…and I admit that this is a skill you develop over time, especially in a world where everyone is supposed to be delighted by hot weather…like it’s sort of taboo not to enjoy it, so you have to just agree about how ‘lovely’ it is…which it is….except could it just be about ten degrees less please.

I bought new trousers. They are VERY GOOD. Very beautiful navy linen ones - see pic (don’t worry, I wear mine with a top). I love them because they have pleats; I’ve been looking for ages for something with pleats and I came upon this shop quite by chance on a desperate hunt for something summery in Notting Hill.

I loved the shape so much that I got carried away and got them in cream cotton too, with a matching hemp shirt. It looks amazing but honestly, who do I think I am head-to-toe in cream? People who do that have a head-to-toe cream life, do they not? Anyway, size down because they’re wonderfully roomy.

I went to see the Wow House which is full of TREASURE, including but not limited to:

Everything here is absolute perfection - fabric rooms are just delicious.

The most beautiful powder room by Nicola Harding …look at the ceiling… I LONG for a tented sunburst ceiling in a small-ish room how glorious.

Shiny tiles and curtained doors and fabric walls and perfect lighting

This kitchen by Ben Pentreath was exquisite…loved this toaster and kettle niche.

Also the pelargonium

And this heavenly space by Emma Sims-Hilditch; the kitchen island was so perfect, looking like a proper table but with island proportions and complete with silent soft-closing drawers. Also obviously a dog bath (in that little scullery to the right). Heaven.

Also this wonderful sofa in the morning room by Daniel Slowik; I love the trellis pattern and there’s something so nostalgic about this whole room, especially the venetian blinds and the fringing on the bottom of the sofa, and the giant squishy frilly cushions.

Obviously my favourite room was the one I utterly failed to capture properly - this snug by James Thurstan Waterworth which basically looked like your absolute favourite very clever, VERY chic person’s study. My photo is awful - you will have to go and see it.

You can go to Wow House (in Chelsea, London UK) until July 3rd - tickets here. Highly recommend.

I also wrote about the making of our garden, and marriage on Scribehound. One person commented that it was terribly ‘twee’, and I cannot stop thinking about that now. I want to grab this person’s hands and promise her that I will endeavour from this moment on, to be LESS TWEE. All the other writers are fabulous, SWEAR.

Enough. I get up early every morning to drench each precious pot…I love this summer morning ritual and I will talk about that next time.

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x Laetitia