Five (...Six!) Favourite Things with Designer Isla Simpson
In this series on the Sigrid Maria Journal, creatives from various fields are asked to choose and describe five of their favourite things. These are items that could have inspired their work or given meaning to their life in some way; objects that represent a moment in time, or that forms part of journey leading to where they are now. I think it’s wonderful to, especially in these times, be able to dip into what certain things mean to people. The objects we cherish often carry energy such as love, joy and hope, and can evoke memories as well as those emotions when we think of them. The idea is to tell short stories through objects, and that with just five items you can get an insight in someone’s life, take part in their journey and get to know them a little.
This week I chat to Isla Simpson, designer and illustrator with an instantly recognisable feminine aesthetic. Her work brings to mind chintzy English country houses of the 1980s, pie-crust collars and velvet bows, strawberries and cream, Laura Ashley dresses and William Morris prints - all served with a dash of whimsy and nostalgia. After graduating in textile design from Central Saint Martins in 2002, Isla designed handbags and leather goods for fifteen years for clients including Aspinals of London, Anya Hindmarch and Whistles. In 2017, she launched her own studio and now designs her line of stationery, home accessories and original artwork, in addition to working on bespoke illustration commissions. Previous clients includes Matches, Liberty, Bamford, Matilda Goad and Bloom & Wild. I have followed Isla for many years now, and her aesthetic is one I truly admire. I cannot get enough of her brilliant illustrations and designs, a mix of hand-painted flowers and plants, shells, corals and bows; all delicately beautiful. Isla also have one of the best Instagram feeds in the biz, a gentle meandering stream of colourful ribbons, wild meadows, hand-written letters and envelopes, cottages nestling among magnolia blossom and of course her cat Wooster puss.
Follow her at @isla_simpson
NEEDLEPOINT CUSHION
It took me ten years of saving, to buy my little Victorian shoe box flat, on my own, without help. There were very few holidays or new clothes in that time, it was a huge slog. Every bonus, every spare £100 went into the house fund. This was especially torturous, being constantly surrounded by beautiful things, whilst doing design inspiration trips in Tokyo, Paris, New York when I was a handbag designer. It got to year Nine, and I was in a Parisian flea market and I saw this 1930s needlepoint cushion and I blew 50 euros on it. I still look at it now and think that shade of mustard and the swallow birds are heaven. The good things you spend the money on, you never regret. House prices were hurtling up so fast, I wasn't even sure if I'd have enough to get on the property ladder at that point, but I suppose I look at this cushion and it represents a life goal I actually ticked off with a lot of hard graft. There haven't been many!
Ballerina Jewellery Box
My family lived in Moscow when I was teenager with my Father's work. My Mother let me choose this little lacquered jewellery box during the interval of the ballet Les Sylphides. I was completely romanced at the point where the ballerina's wings fell off during an embrace. In those days (the Nineties), nearly all Russian children went to the ballet and circus. It opened my eyes to how accessible culture was compared to England and the culture vulture bug never left me! It represents such a happy time for my family. I do think an expat lifestyle allows you to look at ‘Home' through very nostalgic rose tinted glasses. That thread still runs through my work now I think.
Vintage Guernsey
It's that cliché 'I'm turning into my Mother' moment. My Mother (also called Isla) was the ultimate Laura Ashley devotee in the 80s and now I've inadvertently adopted her school 'pick up' uniform. Pie crust collar, her original Guernsey purchased in 1984 ( which she's wearing in the photo) and pearl earrings. I'm always chilled to the bones, especially working from home and Guernseys just block out the cold. The number of times I've been invited to stay at a friend's parents and it's been icier than Narnia and I've slept in bed with it on. I rarely go anywhere without it, despite it being heavy. I think the fact it has only slightly frayed at the cuffs speaks volumes about the quality of knitwear. My Dad has about 4, and I've got my eyes on getting a red or mustard one.
Embroidered Jacket
I'm fairly sure my friend Lily completely regrets giving me this embroidered Tracy Reece jacket. Many an hour has been spent trying on all her and the Sokol sister's cast offs. It's done the wedding and dinner party circuit, but mostly I love wearing it as a house coat with a cashmere jumper. It taught me a very good lesson in those early days of freelance where I was still finding my feet......always wear something nice, even if you only see the postlady that day. Slobbing round in leggings made me feel awful. It also represents quite a departure from all my officey clothes I never ever wanted to wear again. After fifteen years of having to embody the fashion brands I designed for, this coat just instantly transformed me back to being myself again.
Victorian Vase
Fanny Shorter's husband Marc gave this to me last Christmas. He remembered how much I loved a similar one last summer when we were cruising the arcades in Hungerford, a fave past time. I heard Amy Merrick describe the concept of a "vase of consequence," on a podcast, ie. if you dropped it, you'd be just as much in pieces as the vase. It's as irreplaceable to me as a Ming vase. It's also set the bar IMPOSSIBLY high for husband searching!
Bow Duvet
This was a recent jackpot charity shop find. I had a similar duvet on my bed as a child, which probably tells you everything you need to know about not changing one bit since I was 5. In my designs I'm always searching for that cosy feeling of retreating back to your parents on a Friday night, and waking up surrounded by their chintzy Mum & Dad style. A little Darling Buds of May. I think friends have given up asking me to go for weekend walks, when I'd rather raid their parents' cupboards.