The Aesthete Interview

Get to know me better, with thanks to the FT's How To Spend It

When I stopped working and earning, my Weekend FT subscription was one of the first expenses I had to cut. Disappointing but necessary. But every so often I go and buy the paper to moon over with a cup of tea on a gloomy Sunday.

One of my all-time favourite things is to sit and read the whole thing from cover to cover, (excluding the actual news bit and the finance-y bits). Their weekend magazine is always superb, and while I almost never agree with the magazine How To Spend It’s suggestions on how to spend it, I absolutely love the opening interview: the Aesthete.

I bought the paper last weekend and realised that answering these questions for you would give you a better sense of the person behind the Substack. So here are my answers, and my best imitation of the (always wonderful) corresponding photography:

[ Me, in my garden, December 2024 ]

My personal style signifiers are a simple necklace, yellow gold with a small diamond pendant - a graduation gift that I have worn every day since (13 years so far!) - and a pair of chunky-rimmed glasses. For the last year I’ve been wearing the ‘Judd’ in ‘Celadon’ from Cubitts, which I love.

The last thing I bought and loved were three books by Clare Foster - ‘Pastoral Gardens’, ‘Winter Gardens’ and ‘The Flower Garden’. They are staggeringly beautiful. I know I will refer to them for inspiration for the rest of my life.

The place that means a lot to me is Dartmoor National Park. I fell madly, wildly in love with the landscape and the magic of the place the first time I visited in 2022 and now spend much of my time either there or planning my next trip there.

The last music I downloaded is a song my brother sent me by his friend’s band: Sünta und die Klauses’ ‘In the Bleak Mid Winter’. Almost certainly the best contemporary Christmas song I’ve heard. Playing it on repeat.

[ books by Clare Foster, recent things I bought and loved ]

The best book I’ve read in the past year was ‘The Garden Against Time: In Search of a Common Paradise’ by Olivia Laing. I usually struggle to sit down and read hardcopy books and stick to audiobooks (#adhd) but this I gulped down, underlining almost every word as I went. All garden writing is memoir (I’ve stolen that from someone but I can’t remember who) but Laing weaves together her personal narrative with a deep and rich exploration of the garden in history, art, culture and society. I loved it.

My style icon is Rachel ‘Bunny' Lambert Mellon. A deeply problematic figure in many ways, but she gardened wearing couture Balenciaga, and her taste in all things was exquisite. She was Jackie Kennedy’s best friend and style icon, which makes her style icon enough for me.

The best gift I’ve given recently was a pot by my incredibly talented friend, artist Ashleigh Fisk, planted with Narcissus ‘New Baby’ and Muscari ‘Baby’s Breath’ for my brother and sister-in-law after the birth of my newest niece.

The best gift I’ve received recently was a Substack subscription to Home by India Knight. A gift that really does keep on giving, and that has brought joy and colour and fun to my email inbox. It also introduced me to this fabulous platform.

[ my style signifiers, and a book I loved reading this year ]

I have a collection of picture books. I started collecting in earnest during COVID lockdowns as a means of escapism. Until 18 months ago I was largely accumulating interior design books, but now I am adding more and more to the gardening section of my very bulky ‘library’. I love going to books for ideas and information rather than what an algorithm wants to show me (and the constant ads that go with it). I dream of opening an ‘inspiration library’ full of picture books that anyone can come and browse. When I moved in here three years ago one of the removals men helpfully suggested that I might invest in a Kindle instead… Art-wise I’m actively trying to collect works by Henrietta Able Smith, Phoebe Hicks (who drew Leo as a puppy), and Ashleigh Fisk who are three of my generation’s great artistic talents, to be sure. I also collect parking tickets. I always have at least three…

[ some of my extensive picture book collection ]

An object I would never part with are my dogs. Are dogs objects? If so, my dogs. If not, then two letters - one written by my mother and one by my father - each intended to be read in the event of their death. Priceless documents.

In my fridge you’ll always find Diet Coke, I’m sorry to say. I went cold-turkey for about a year without really trying but then fell off the wagon in spectacular fashion. Also, my crisper houses my seed collection, so you will always find hundreds of packets of flower seeds where you should find salad.

I recently discovered coleslaw. And now I’m hooked on sandwiches of smoked ham, a slick of bbq sauce and a pile of coleslaw. Good for the soul, bad for the waistline.

An indulgence I’d never forgo is my dogs, Leo and Bella. They are my indulgence and I indulge them in turn.

[ mug from my collection of works by Ashleigh Fisk and my current collection of parking tickets ]

A beauty staple I’m never without is witch hazel. Having spent I dread to think how much over the years on designer skincare, this super pure, super cheap stuff is available everywhere and is the best cleanser I’ve ever used. It has sent me down a rabbit hole of 100% pure, natural skin care so I now just use witch hazel and rosehip oil on my skin.

The one artist I’d collect if I could is Helene Schjerfbeck. I saw her piece ‘Dancing Shoes’ when I did a summer internship at Sotheby’s in 2008 and have loved it ever since. It sold for many times its estimate. There were gasps as the bidding went up and spontaneous applause when the hammer came down. It was electrifying. In 2019 the RA held the first major exhibition of her work in the UK. There is something so distinct and enthralling about her work. But like so many women, she has been largely overlooked.

The podcasts I’m listening to have decreased dramatically in number since the UK and US elections. I’m deliberately disconnecting. But I look forward every week to the Gardeners’ Question Time podcast which comes out in time for my Saturday morning dog walk, and I love listening to my brother’s podcast Not the Top 20 much of which goes over my head but I love how much he is enjoying himself. The Daily and This American Life are the best two for story-telling, I think, and I like dipping into the archives of Heavyweight and Smartless when I’m between audiobooks.

[ seed packets and Diet Coke can always be found in my fridge ]

The thing I can’t do without is my dogs. But I’ve already said that. So let’s say: a space to garden. Now I really couldn’t live without something by way of a personal place to grow things and to interact with plants and nature.

The work of art that changed everything for me was Henry Moore’s ‘Two Piece Reclining Figure No 5’ on Hampstead Heath, near Kenwood House. During a very difficult and lonely time in my life I would often go and sit on the bench beside her. She was my companion through that time, and being in that place helped me to make some big, difficult decisions about the direction of my life.

The best piece of advice I ever received was my psychiatrist’s advice (or, maybe her ‘prescription’? Or ‘insistence’?) that I stop working. Obviously I let things get worse for a few months after she first advised it. But ultimately being signed off work was the best thing that ever happened to me. Then again probably the piece of advice I think about most often was my best friend telling me, aged 16 or 17, not to wear a belt with my outfit because it would look like I was trying too hard. Studied nonchalance is often still the goal.