Photo Blog: Rosecliff and Pierre Cardin

Here’s a quick photo blog of Rosecliff, another Newport “Cottage,” including the surprisingly engaging (especially for me, the least fashionable person on the planet) Pierre Cardin collection currently in its museum gallery. 


Rosecliff close up.

So far, no roses. But wait…

A spray of roses!


That staircase looks weirdly familiar…

Oh! Those movie posters explain it!

Chandler! No, wait, Chandelier! 


Gold piano, because hey, why not? 

Bizarrely, in the context of the room, it kind of works.

Another chandelier!

Patio! With a folding table!

Another fireplace. I know what I want for my 50th birthday… a really ornate stone fireplace mantel. 

Really bummed that this was the man cave. I like this room! 

Ceiling detail.

Okay, scratch that on the fireplace mantel. A really cool grandfather clock (sans annoying AF ticking), however, would make for an awesome 50th birthday gift. Hey, I’m currently living out of my car. A girl can dream, right?

That is a desk that might almost inspire me to sit at it.

Round book table thingie. Now that is awesome, although I’m somewhat lost on the practicality of it. Oh wait, in a world of infinite servants, I suppose practicality was not at a premium.

Fountain with orange trees. Just because…

An intimate dining room. At least this isn’t a walk-in fireplace: we wouldn’t want to be tempted to roast ennui-producing dinner guests. 

Tassels on drapes bigger than my hand. 

The formal front hedge garden as seen from a be-tasseled dining room window. 

The main party space. Apparently they used to roller skate and ride bikes in here. Hopefully no one roller skated or rode into the human-sized fireplace located next to me. 

Modern bridal ready-room.

Second floor window.

Fancy bedroom.

This reminds me slightly of Baba & Gigi’s decor (my grandparents — don’t ask).

Finally! Roses!

More roses (and thorny kids).

And a head-eating stone lion, because why not?

The Pierre Cardin exhibit at Rosecliff. Because everyone needs a Plexiglass dress, that’s why. 


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