Photo Credit: Courtesy of Iris Apfel
DURING THE TIME Carl and I owned Old World Weavers, from 1950 to 1992, we participated in many design restoration projects, including work at the White House for nine presidential administrations, from Harry S. Truman through Bill Clinton. Because of our work there, people would sometimes refer to me as the “First Lady of Fabric” or “Our Lady of the Cloth,” which amused me.
People always ask me what it was like decorating the White House.
Let me tell you: we didn’t decorate the White House, and neither did Jacqueline Kennedy or any of the other first ladies, for that matter, because historically accurate restoration is the driving force behind any changes to the building or its furnishings.
That’s the rule.
We didn’t come in and say: “We don’t like the scale of this; it should be reduced” or “We don’t like this color; we should change it to that color.”
We didn’t work for the presidential administrations, either; we worked for the U.S. Commission of Fine Arts, re-creating the antique fabrics as close to the original as humanly possible. The commission reviews all designs proposed for new or restored government buildings, among other things.
We did our best to make the main floor of the White House exactly as it was when the original furniture was introduced. Whatever we were re-covering, we had to make absolutely sure that everything we touched was historically accurate.
We also did work on the second floor, in the private quarters where the First Family lives. There are no rules there; they can decorate that space—bedrooms, guest bedrooms, private sitting rooms—the way they want to.
Photo Credit: Rebecca Karamehmedovic
Most of the presidents and first ladies weren’t terribly interested in restoration or decoration at all, except for Pat Nixon, who was passionately interested in everything we did, even though she knew nothing about the finer points of historical restoration. She often would ask if she could accompany Edward Vasson Jones, the interior architect for the White House at the time, when he came to visit us. Mr. Jones made all the necessary decisions on the refurbishing.
We let Mrs. Nixon pick out the fabric samples she liked, and she’d take them back to Washington with her. Invariably, she’d call the next day and say sheepishly, “Mrs. Apfel, as usual, I selected the wrong thing. Please choose what’s correct and come to Washington on Thursday for lunch.” In the end, we always knew that Mr. Jones would make the right choices; we never had the heart to correct Mrs. Nixon because she was such a lovely lady.