My personal style signifier is my jewellery. I possibly wear too much, but I change it all the time and have an ever-evolving group of favourites. I collect antique Belperron, Verdura, Cartier, Hermès, Edwardian rose-cut diamonds, angel skin coral, snake rings, tennis bracelets and anything in the shape of a heart or a shell. I like to mix fine jewellery with pieces from my costume collection that features baroque pearls, sea creatures, turquoise, carved wood and gemstones. I wear my jewellery all the time and don’t consider anything “special occasion” or precious. I joke with my family that I want to be buried with all of it.
The last thing I bought and loved was a museum-quality antique Serbian folk dress made from hand-loomed silk and covered in embroidered bullion thread, sequins and lace. I bought it in Belgrade, where my mother is from. She collected folk costumes and Victorian lace, and I inherited her passion. I get palpitations when I find something uniquely beautiful. I believe in the emotional weight of objects that have been made by hand, as they carry the spirit of the maker.
The best souvenir I’ve brought home is a Carlo Bugatti chair from the Paul Bert Serpette flea market in Paris. I had been looking for one for years and this one was perfect for me; it’s upholstered in parchment and illustrated with a bird, and it has his signature inlaid pewter and hammered copper with a silk fringe. A dream!
The best book I’ve read in the past year is Vanishing World by Sayaka Murata. I don’t typically go for science fiction, but I love Japanese sci-fi. This book was excellent. It’s a dystopian novel about a future with controlled reproduction, and an upended vision of marriage and family. It left me feeling something I hadn’t felt before – that’s the hallmark of a great book.
My style icon is my mother, Jasmina Draskovic-Johnson. She had a very personal and recognisable style – mostly black or camel tones, a strong shoulder and chunky silver jewellery that she collected in the Near East when she was working on archaeological excavations. She was also a fan of opulently embroidered shawls – and always a red lip. She knew what she loved and was committed to it. Having a singular point of view and confidence without arrogance are the things I admire in other women.
The best gift I’ve received is a Victorian bloodstone locket with a trifold pullout – very rare as they mostly have space for just one or two images. My husband gave it to me with baby pictures of our three children. It is my most cherished possession.
The best gift I’ve given recently was an embroidered sweatshirt, to my son, the night before he left for college. He was always sketching weird characters as a child. I recently unearthed a detailed drawing he had made of a headless boy holding a large balloon and a drooping lollipop. I had the image embroidered on the sweatshirt. He was quite surprised.
The last item of clothing I added to my wardrobe was an embroidered linen and lace dress from our latest pre-fall collection. It was inspired by an antique tablecloth I found last summer in Portofino. It’s intricate, beautiful and easy to wear.
I love the holidays. So much so that, after a trip to Vienna during the festive season, my son started calling me “Fräulein Christmas”. I have traditions that I grew up with and others I’ve gathered along the way. Perhaps my favourite is the annual cutting of the Christmas tree. I grew up on the Upper East Side of Manhattan where we would pick a tree off the back of a truck from Vermont. Now we make a whole weekend of it and drive up to Battenfeld Christmas tree farm in Red Hook the weekend after Thanksgiving. We’ll spend hours tromping around to find the perfect tree. We like them spindly and wispy, and they have to be 12ft tall. It’s a whole thing getting it set up; the lights just so, the antique glass and Scandinavian straw garlands in place and every manner of ornament that’s been passed down to me, each with its own story. I live for Christmas.
An ideal holiday period is spent at home in New York for Christmas Eve and Day. I host Christmas Eve at my home in Brooklyn – often for 20 or more with champagne, caviar, crackers and carolling. As soon as Christmas is over, I can fall into morose sadness, so we pack up and go skiing out west or in Europe, or we chase the sun to South America or the Caribbean. This year we are going to Tanzania on safari and I can’t wait.
The last music I downloaded was various obscure heartbreak songs from the 1950s. I love music that makes you feel something deep in your soul. I have been listening to Helen Foster’s version of “You Belong To Me” on repeat. It fills me with nostalgia for a life I never even had. I suffer from extreme sentimentality.
What don’t I collect? I detest minimalism. My homes in Brooklyn and Montauk are filled with my collections. I am obsessed with fibre art, and am fortunate to live with pieces by great heroines of the medium: Sheila Hicks, Olga de Amaral, Lenore Tawney, Françoise Grossen. I love ceramics and collect works both fine and naive, including pieces by Ursula Morley-Price, whose fine undulating gestures have inspired my own work. I have gathered every shell and basket that crossed my path, fabrics of every sort and handlooms from the world over. I collect antique passementerie and crochet pieces. I must buy another home.
The best way to spend $20 is on a vial of Bulgarian rose oil. A few drops in your water and it transforms the chore of constant hydration. Serbs never drink water, so I didn’t grow up thinking I needed to consume litres a day.
A way to make me laugh is to take me to a stand-up comedy show. I go to the Comedy Cellar in the Greenwich Village to hear new acts, but they also showcase established comedians. Last time I was there, Jerry Seinfeld ended up on stage. I went to see Mo Amer, a Palestinian-American comedian; I admire those who make people laugh with difficult topics. Laughter and tears are very close.
In my fridge you’ll always find things to entertain with. There is always an ice-cold bottle or two of Ruinart and bottles of Vichy Catalan sparkling water – very chic, with glass patterned like a grotto. I have delightfully decadent White Moustache sour cherry yoghurt, kimchi and Hawthorne Valley ruby sauerkraut. I love anything pickled as it’s good for the gut.
I’ve recently discovered weightlifting. I get addicted to exercise routines; I went through an embarrassing SoulCycle phase and was a runner for many years before I started barre and yoga classes. I just started working out with a handsome Australian trainer, and it feels very 1990s, with the dumbbells and rap music. I’m into it.
An object I would never part with is my antique Belperron money clip. I am very old-school and believe in the importance of always carrying cash.
The thing I couldn’t do without is Dr Hauschka Lip Balm. If I find myself in the theatre or on an airplane without it, I am bereft. My husband bought this one for me from a Swiss pharmacy on a trip to Art Basel, and I haven’t been without it since. An amazing natural scent and the best texture. Dr Hauschka Lip Balm, £11.50
My favourite room in my house is my bathroom. It’s covered in travertine and is so serene. I spent a great deal of time refining the details and lighting when we were renovating our brownstone and it’s heaven. I can spend hours in there – in the bath or indulging in skincare routines. I have an inordinate amount of beauty products and bath soaks and salts – it’s a weakness! Beauty staples I love are Sisley’s Black Rose Cream: it’s luxurious but not too greasy. I like the Acqua di Rose toning water from Santa Maria Novella, a must during busy fitting days. And I can’t go without a healthy rose or bronze colour from Chanel’s Baume Essentiel glow sticks. Chanel Baume Essentiel Multi-Use Glow Stick, £38. Santa Maria Novella Acqua di Rose, £35. Sisley Black Rose Skin Infusion Cream, £182
My beauty guru is David Mallett for haircuts when I am in Paris. He is such a kind human and his salon is so special, it’s like a beautiful home. I also love the Shibui Spa at The Greenwich Hotel for a Samunprai Thai Poultice Massage. It feels like stepping into Japan – all wood and dimly lit with a very peaceful pool. And Joanna Czech gives the most brilliant facials.
In another life, I would have been a women’s studies professor. I studied psychology and women’s studies at the University of Michigan and was set on following an academic path, but my father, who was a professor, dissuaded me. He said I would hate jumping through all the hoops necessary to pursue a life of the mind – the years of schooling and student teaching and middling academic roles in small college towns. In hindsight, he was right.
The place that means a lot to me is the island of Lokrum off the coast of Dubrovnik in Croatia. I travelled to the Dalmatian coast every summer as a child, and my parents and I used to rise early each morning and go to the small pijaca (farmers’ market) in the main square to buy cheese and figs and dried meats and bread. We would take a small ferry to the island where we would lie on the rocks reading and sunning ourselves all day before retreating to the shade of the pines for a picnic lunch. The sound of the cicadas humming in the midday heat is something I still chase every summer, all around the Mediterranean.
I hate podcasts – I often find the tone irritating and I can’t get invested. The only exception is Radiolab, a nerdy public radio show that’s dedicated to the deep exploration of scientific and philosophical topics. There is one episode titled “23 weeks 6 days” about the threshold of human viability outside the womb that I have listened to a dozen times. It makes me cry every time.
My biggest pet peeves in a hotel are a freezing-cold room – I detest too much air-conditioning – a bedside reading light that doesn’t dim and too many complicated switches for lighting or entertainment. I’m also not a fan of enormous televisions and windows that don’t open. I guess I have quite a few peeves!
My favourite location is the Brooklyn Botanic Garden. It’s in walking distance from my house and I know every corner of it, with all of its seasonal glories. I am especially fond of the peony collection and rose garden, as well as the cherry trees, magnolias and lilacs, all of which I visit religiously when in bloom. I also go for the early witch hazel, the fields of bluebells, the wisteria – I love it all. I try and go every few weeks, sometimes for a stroll after work, or in the early mornings after school drop-off.
My favourite websites and apps are all weather-related. Weather Underground is excellent. I am absolutely obsessed with the weather – everywhere, not just where I am at the time. I think I was a farmer in a past life.
The work of art that changed everything for me was Claude Monet’s Water Lilies at MoMA in New York. The monumental scale and diffuse light and colour were transporting as a child. The eight of Monet’s murals that are hung in gently curving rooms in the Musée de l’Orangerie in Paris also take my breath away. I see something new every time.
I do not believe in life after death because I was brought up by two atheists who only believed in scientific fact. The finality of our turns around the sun was never questioned in my household. But over the years, I have come to feel that the energy that exists in a person doesn’t disappear. At times I’ve felt the connectedness between living things, plants and trees, and I feel that exists beyond and past us.
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When I need to feel inspired I travel. The greatest gift my parents gave me was dragging me around the world on all their adventures. I did the same with my kids and could see first-hand the developmental shifts that happened from being immersed in new cultures and places. I crave this shift in perspective, and I still feel so much excitement when I’m travelling somewhere new. I always come home changed and inspired – and always with bags full of textiles, books and random treasures that often work themselves into my designs.
The best party I’ve ever been to was a tented dinner party under the stars in the Agafay Desert outside of Marrakech for my 50th birthday. We arrived by camel in full black tie at sunset. I was surrounded by my dearest friends who are also family. We feasted and danced the night away and it was magical.
The best bit of advice I ever received was from my mother, who always said: “Never accept ‘no’ for an answer. There is always a way.” That has served me well, much to my co-workers’ chagrin.
