Jewelry Designer Margaret Maggard's Dynamic Denver Bungalow
I'd like to introduce you to my friend Margaret Maggard. In this photo, she is positioned on her sofa in such a way that you can guess she was once a yoga instructor. She also used to run her own successful jewelry business, Bhati Beads, which was born out of the handmade wrist wraps she wore while teaching yoga. Margaret's designs were favored by many celebrities, most notably the former First Lady, Michelle Obama. For seven consecutive years, models in the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition wore slivers of spandex on their breasts and bottoms and Margaret’s wraps on their wrists and ankles.
She is retired now but this former entrepreneur has a breadth of experience that is remarkable. Next week on the blog, Margaret shares her successes and failures in an interview that will be valuable reading for anyone in a creative business.
Margaret's latest endeavor takes aim at something even more important to her – her home. She and her husband Bill relocated to Denver from Wisconsin nearly four years ago. Built in 1929, their bungalow sits on a leafy boulevard in the Park Hill neighborhood not far from City Park. She injects her creative personality into every corner of their home and the result is a dynamic mix of color and pattern, vintage and antique, old and new, high and low, strange and sweet. The best interiors -- or at least the most livable -- incorporate relics from the past and Margaret and Bill's place is the best!
I remember the day that Margaret told me she was leaving Milwaukee. I nearly burst into tears. Margaret had been a mentor to me from the get-go. She enthusiastically supported my idea to create vignettes and write about them on a blog. She advised me every step of the way. (She still does!) And the advantage to losing a friend nearby is that you gain a friend out-of-town. I so enjoyed my visit with Margaret and I hope these photos give you a sense of how uniquely chic their home is.
Legend has it, and the tourism websites repeat it, that Denver gets over three hundred days of sunshine a year. The paint color Margaret chose reflects the light beautifully and she and I spent two wonderful mornings curled up on the upholstery talking about EVERYTHING!
Look closely at the arts and crafts terra cotta tiles on the fireplace surround. Such workmanship! No reason why they won't look just as fabulous in another hundred years.
Every home needs an odd chair just to make the other chairs realize that they needn't be so boring. This one belonged to Margaret's grandfather, then was passed down to Margaret's mother who needlepointed its cushions, and now it is Margaret who is in charge of the dragons.
Despite the pineapple, which is the symbol of hospitality, it looks like Margaret and Bill had no liquor to offer me. Let me assure you, that was not the case.
"Moonflower" by Ann Cole Phillips was purchased by Margaret's parents in the late 1960s. Margaret remembers the painting as a sort of Rorschach test in her family and she definitely sees a caterpillar on the canvas. (I see a goose.)
Margaret has since painted this buffet. Some of you will tsk tsk and some of you will nod in agreement. No matter your opinion about painting furniture, we can all agree that it is very satisfying to take something old and change it in a way that feels new. Humans do it too, you know.
Margaret's love for chinoiserie began when her grandfather took a trip to Japan and came home with wonderful souvenirs. Margaret's favorite childhood book, "Little Plum" by Rumer Godden also influenced her.
Margaret's collection of lusterware bird and parrot creamers brings to mind the words of Allan Gurganis who said this about collecting: "Collections collect collectors. It doesn't work the other way around. A certain object misses its own kind and communicates that to some person who surrounds it with rhyming items; these become at first a quorum, then a selective, addictive madness."
A dining room doubling as a library, which is as it should be. Also, Margaret sorts her books by color, a fun trend that causes pain to certain individuals who prefer their books sorted by author. To them I say it won't kill you to browse through your own stacks.
One of Margaret's original Bhati Bead wraps. This one is strung with tiny brass nuts -- a reference to her father who once manufactured them.
Margaret's husband Bill is an avid fly fisherman. This cozy guest room, with a gallery wall of fish engravings and a whimsical hunt fabric on the bed, pays homage to his love of The Great Outdoors.
A dress dummy draped in a collection of interesting vintage beads. I have several of Margaret's designs and my favorite is a wrap with a tiny Tibetan prayer box.
Margaret calls this shadowbox full of 1960s pins her "Flower Power Bouquet." I have a miniature version of it in the shop today. It's at the end of this post.
I will close today's post with this anecdote from my visit. Margaret and I trolled a few antique shops together. In one particularly dusty warehouse, I spotted the most gorgeous pair of foo dogs with a glaze as layered and complex as a good burgundy. "You must buy these," I told Margaret. She tried bargaining with the clerk who wasn't in a flexible mood. Margaret left the doggies behind. By the time we were back at her bungalow, she regretted her decision. A call to the shopkeeper was unsatisfactory as the foo dogs sold shortly after we left. Since then, I have continued to search for a pair that equalled the Denver foo dogs. If you have a pair you would like to sell, please get in touch with me here. I'd like to surprise my friend Margaret.
Also, just a quick reminder to check in next week to read about Margaret's experience in retail fashion. It's fascinating!
New at Finder Not Keeper
My miniature version of Margaret's "Flower Power Bouquet." Click on the image for shopping information.
If you enjoyed this post, you might like reading about my friend Alice's dining room. Click on the photo for more.
In "A Room for Read's Reading," a devoted daughter loses her father but treasures his books. Click on the photo for the post.