Ever since the first issue of Wallpaper came out, I’ve wanted to
live in this magazine. I don’t, of course. I live in a tiny flat in
Little Venice with no loft space, no YBA neighbours and no street
But, for me, this is what Wallpaper is all about. I gorge on the likes
of Vogue but I’m never going to weigh seven stone and pay #2,000 for a
frock. But I may, just may, one day have a centrefold home.
The latest special edition of Wallpaper, straplined ’too much is never
enough’, is a list of the 100 most divine things about modern
Or, as the deliciously pretentious editorial says: ’As much a chronicle
of the architecturally and fashionably obscure as it is a document of
all that’s fresh in the global marketplace.’
From Shigeru Ban’s paper houses to Arne Jacobsen’s 1950s design for St
Catherine’s College, Oxford, to corporate identity, Reykjavik’s most
famous church, Swedish ad agency office design and even a Christmas
cookery spread (I’m not sure what my mum would make of whipped sweet
potatoes with marshmallow with her turkey), this is the guide to get you
through all that affected canape conversation, darling.
On the surface, the magazine is so gloriously superficial that it’s easy
to see it as printed candyfloss. Wallpaper may look like one big
pretentious wank, but dig a little deeper and it’s one of the few
consumer magazines to cover the more serious elements of architecture
and design. And it is international, albeit still within the
well-trodden tourist’s map.
But, if you want the sort of ostentatious confection that looks good on
your Richard Dewhurst coffee table, look no further.
Claire Beale, Campaign’s media editor, wants a Peter Brandt ’Bimbo’
stool for Christmas.