When the renowned interior designer and best-selling author Betty Lou Phillips learned I would be in Dallas promoting my new book, she asked me to lunch - at her home, the manse she and her husband, John, just built and decorated down to the last detail, including monogrammed bedding for Jackson, the couple's Norwich terrier, who pretty much runs the place. The invitation was like having Celine Dion sing for you, or David Hockney invite you to a museum tour, or Stacy London take you shopping.
OK, so I'm a Betty Lou Phillips fan. She's an exquisite designer, a wonderful writer, and she has extraordinary style. She's even been on "Oprah."
I first met Phillips a few years ago during a phone interview for a column about the secrets of French design. She has written nine interior design books, including "The French Room" and "Inspirations from France and Italy."
Meeting the master
What's unsettling is she has my books. I cringe when I imagine this goddess of high design reading about how I make glue-gun drapes from sheets, framed masterpieces from Google Images and headboards of fabric, plywood and staples.
She greets me at the door of her Dallas home, a cross between a Loire Valleychateau and the Petite Trianon. She hangs my coat in the entry closet, in which matching dark wood hangers face the same direction.
And she asks whether I'd like to see the house. I curb the urge to jump up and down.
Jackson comes and makes sure I notice his beds - some four-poster, some sleigh style - all over the house. "All those beds, and he sleeps with us," Phillips says.
The tour ends in the kitchen, where John Phillips sees my new book on the soapstone counter, studies the title ("House of Havoc: How to Make - and Keep - a Beautiful Home Despite Cheap Spouses, Messy Kids, and Other Difficult Roommates") and says "I don't know anything about cheap spouses!"
Obviously not.
We eat chicken salad sandwiches in the eating area off the bar, a reproduction of a French bistro. As we clear the dishes, Jackson hops on the bistro table and has his way with the cream pitcher. Phillips apologizes profusely. I am heartened to see that even her home has a little havoc.
No detail too small
My word count prevents me from telling you all about this home (the Venetian plaster walls, reclaimed wood floors, limestone staircases, upholstered walls, sumptuous furniture, dazzling chandeliers), but one stand-out feature is the unwavering attention to detail, which is Phillips' signature. Every lampshade, drape, pillow, rug, upholstery decision, tile treatment, knob and wall covering was made to her creative order. Here are some highlights:
Designer shades. For Phillips' office, an artist hand-painted pull-down canvas shades with images of crystal chandeliers.Crystal beads hang from the pull edge.
Just for you. The granddaughters suite has four double beds with hand-painted headboards and white matelassé bedding monogrammed in spring green with each granddaughter's initials.
Wash me. Pink patent leather covers the laundry room walls, where a wall of white painted cubbies holds wicker baskets. Pink linen and Belgian lace line each basket, and linen liners are monogrammed: Guest Room Linens, Master linens, Hers, etc.
Golf anyone? For her golfer husband, Phillips transformed the attic into a four-hole putting green. Astroturf covers the floor, a mural of a golf course covers the walls, and the painted sign on the half-glass door reads "Pro Shop."
Going up? The elevator (yes, elevator) has recessed wood paneling, distressed wood floors and a chandelier. She thinks it needs an oil painting.
Pour des amis. The guest bath has white pedestal sinks and mosaic tile insets shaped like bathmats. One says "Monsieur," the other "Madame."
A touch of bling. My favorite space is her dressing room. A chandelier hangs center and reflects in the wood-framed, mirrored doors. It reflects the elegant woman who lives here.
