Under the Tuscan Son

Kudos, me: I finally have a working scanner ... and printer, and copier, and fax machine (yes, I fax CONSTANTLY). Two months ago a plaster shell bracket fell off the wall and onto my four-in-one Epson nightmare. Only two functions continued to function, not including the one I need daily (PRINT). So this afternoon I sucked it up and bought his replacement (a "Brother") ...  so banal I can barely type it out. Is anyone else paralyzed by tech maintenance? My lame, corporate BlackBerry freezes for six minutes at a time and after my single attempt to fix the sitchu I wanted to pull a full-on Kaczynski, or at least a Salinger.

ANYWAY.

  Architectural Digest, September 2011, photographed by Peter Estersohn

This scan takes me to a warm, sunny place.  Picture it, Tuscany, 2011: A place where colors don't have to coordinate yet headboards and Parsons tables wear matching grapefruit linen slipcovers. It's a bedroom in a villa belonging to Dede Pratesi, matriarch of the molto-luxe linens firm, plus her son Federico and his family. I'll cop to a certain ignorance when it comes to fancy sheet companies, though I'm partial to Schweitzer, they of the endless embroidery pattern selection and absolute refusal to rebrand with the times. So I had no idea that some Pratesi's look like the best of Mrs. Tillett? Also note how that twee frescoed ceiling actually works when paired with a bold tiled floor, modern art, small-scale plaid curtains and said gonzo multi-citrus/battleship gray/taupe color palette. (Whatever she says, DON'T negate it.) No disrespect to the Pratesis but this is where I picture secret Russkie Tilda having her second act in the sequel to I Am Love.