Elizabeth Stuart Design



Doors the perfect color. 

The best of fashion, art, and design.

Writing this I want to tell you about what I am seeing as I travel... my favorite places… but all I really want to do is tell my mom. 

It has been a year since she died. 

It has been such a long year without her. 

She and I had this thing.  I would call her when I would travel...tell her what I saw. 

We both loved that time. It was important to me to share my experiences with her. 

I am stumped as to what to write now so if it’s ok, I’m just going to tell my mom. 


It has been an amazing year of travel.  This Christmas I am adding to the list. 

We landed in Paris in the pitch dark... dark at 8am. 

Winter in Paris. 

The hotel you would approve of... soft and detailed and it smells so good, a custom scent they said, of cut grass and flowers, so you! 

We dropped our bags and had breakfast.  Your kind of eggs.. lots of cream in them.  A buttery croissant and apricot jam. 

Over time this has become our pattern.  Land, breakfast, then usually we go see the pet stores.  The children are grown now, but everyone still wanted to go. 

Time has changed.  The pet stores are now gone, all but one.  We didn’t go.  

Later I heard Stuart circled back during the day to go see the one pet store left. 

I love that about her.  


Mom, Dad would be proud.  We went to see the Picasso museum.  His love of art is a part of me. 


At first, the shock of the Modern had me whisper under my breath, “I am not a fan of Picasso”, but as I went through the halls (which were art themselves) I fell in love with what I called my own collection of Picasso’s. 


You were allowed to take photos so I collected everything I loved. It was shocking to take the photo then walk up closely and see the detail of the paint. 


What an amazing mind.  What a gift from God to see in a way no one had ever had before.  To paint and explain an art that had never existed before.  I stood in amazement. 

Thank you Picasso.  Thank you God. 

The evenings were filled with the Christmas lights and the Christmas trees of Paris.  I never saw a Christmas tree stand.  They take a quarter of the tree stump then nail the tree into it.  All tree ..no stand.  Perfect. 

Many of the trees were flocked.  All white, or red, or even blue.  They were pretty and dramatic.  Not one tree was cone shaped.  Each had its natural shape.  Perfect nature. 

Every time I come to Paris I cannot get over the doors, the door knockers, and the paint colors.  The blue is my favorite.  No the red... no the ice pale blue... it goes on like that the entire time.  I just can’t decide. 


We all went to the Dior exhibit.  The line to see it snaked around the block.  I thought it would be interesting, but around the block?  What do I know!  It was fantastic! 

Dior is IT. 

The beginning of so many greats.  The designs and genius blew me away.  You could stand in front of a group of dresses for an hour and not take in each detail, but it was packed and the tight halls had me moving faster then I would have liked.  No disrespect Mr. Dior but I caught a little claustrophobia at your show!


And then as any sane woman would do... I went shopping! 

I love Printemps because it is more manageable and so many people were jammed into Gallery Lafayette.

Walking the Maris until closing was perfect. The cafes open and lights twinkling made me feel a little Parisian.  Proud that in a few Stores they spoke French to me first, not certain I was American.  A beautiful scarf helps that every time!

Each night I would look out my window to see the Eiffel Tower shining for her 5 minutes and get up early to see the sun rise behind Notre Dame.  


I always say that Paris is my favorite.. 

until I go to Italy!


And we are off...

The color white can make you crazy and it can put your mind at ease.

White can make you crazy and it can put your mind at ease.

I have decided to paint the interior of my house white.  All white. Everywhere.  

If someone had hired me to select a white color I would have done it in a days time.  No stress and with complete confidence I would have made the perfect selection. 

For my own house I'm going on week 3 of stressing it out.  Paint swatches literally are everywhere in my house.  It has taken a year of contemplation to get to the swatch phase! 

There are a million whites. White with blue, white with gray, white with pink, white that turns a little yellow...you get the point. Crazy!!!

I have started driving myself crazy.  Because it's my own house, I bring all my "stuff" into it... stuff like I don't make mistakes very well.  It's not that I don't make mistakes.. I DO.. it's just I don't do it well.  I fret and worry and second guess myself.  It's a paint color for goodness sake's! 

It has been a long time since I've painted the entire house so I want to get it right. 

Perfection is overrated it's definitely not worth the worry and stress. 

I selected the paint color... FINALLY!

When I walked out to the garden the next day I saw the perfect white. I studied the birds.. the small white blossoms in the garden. There are perfect whites everywhere and maybe if I'm lucky I will feel like the interior of my house will be one too. 



Dolphin in a Garden of Blue Hydrangeas

Standing on the dock or out on the Charleston Harbor my anticipation is always for when a dolphin breaks the surface. 

The surprise.

The magnitude of a warm blooded animal coming above the dark water for air. 

It’s pretty amazing and I consider it a gift every time I see it. 

In my travels over the summer, I found this dolphin sculpture in a garden filled with blue hydrangeas.  Hmmm….. 

One second,

Two second,

Three seconds… 


He breaks surface in Charleston on my next European container, arriving at the end of this month. 

He makes me smile.

Peace Always,



The eclipse was a big deal here in Charleston. 


I had a buy in NYC. I never go late but as it all lined up, the eclipse and the buy were close in time, but that made it an easy choice. I chose to cherish the event with my daughter to see this once in a lifetime event together. She took this amazing photo by the way (thanks, Stuart!)...and I took the easy one once the darkness fell.


Then at the crack of dawn I rushed to buy in New York City. 


Containers from Europe and Africa on the water now headed to Charleston and some special pieces selected on the buy! Selected while wearing running shoes (no judgement).


Christmas at ESD is going to be THE BEST EVER. And I have a memory of an eclipse with my daughter by my side. It's all good!

Peace Always,


Mother's Sunset

I have traveled so much this summer.

When I traveled in the past, I would always call my mom. No matter where I was, if there was something amazing that I just couldn't believe, my mom was the first person I wanted to tell. It was as if she was the marker. She is what made it real ...if I could tell her and describe it and share it with her...she would put it in the bank...the bank of memories. The bank where I had a special joint account with only my mother.

I have missed my mom so much. I could be dramatic and tell you how many days she's been gone...but to be honest, I haven't counted. I just know that when I look up and there is something I need to tell her, I can't hear her voice. Days don't matter anyway.  I just miss her voice.

I see a lace pattern. When you take away the faded lace, what is left is the structure... the design. Now that she is gone, her absence has left the pattern of me and all that I am. I find I miss the structure... even though I am the design. I miss the security.

I miss hearing my mom say "Hey, Sugar".
Does it make me childish that I know no one will love me as much as my mom did?

On my flight to England there were patches of green everywhere. They were so beautiful. Then as I flew further there were patches of purple mixed in. It was lavender, and I needed to tell mom how amazing they were. She would have loved it.

I needed to tell her how the sand on the way to Morocco changed from clay to pink and back to clay colors,

and how much I miss my children as they are settled in the towns that they have chosen.

Did she miss me when I grew up?

I want to talk about it.

I need to talk about it.

If you don't mind, Mom, would you rub my head as we talk about it?

Tonight the sunset was beautiful. Every 10 minutes it changed.

A different beautiful shade.


So beautiful.

I send these to you.

This is my letter, and as I walk back down the dock and my heart aches for your voice,
I hope you were there and heard me in the sunset.

I was here missing you.

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