Field Trip is a homebase for the research and references that inform the work and life of designer Lauren Scarlett
[RESEARCH ©FT]
On the train home after dark, a couple of Aperols deep, I realise how truly happy I’ve been. How life lately (it disgusts me to say) has felt like a movie—one I would watch on repeat in my teens, and hope to one day get to live out the scenes. My friend asks me why I haven’t been writing, and I have no reason other than life’s been too good. He says, 'you seem light' and my brain plays a montage of beautiful interiors and good food, of brands I’ve built finally mirroring the image in my mind, of my best friend looking like herself again, my parents doing well, of hotels in cities, and hot summer nights. I respond, 'I feel light.'
I notice amongst it all, my kind of luxury is cheap. It’s the conversations had, on park benches, walking streets, over drinks, after sex—moments that are free but I would pay a thousands times to re-live, and every time forget to transcribe the lines. The minutes slip to hours and we’re parting again. We leave happily, assuming there will be a reunion soon, and know soon means later than we’d hope. And that’s the pay-off I guess. A reminder to love the moment, and not anguish the in-betweens. To stay busy and know that another great time waits to be had, down the line.
August traps the sun like it does time, and I’m already reminiscent about things I’ve just left. But it’s finally cooling down in my un-air-conditioned flat and I’m not sure I mind summer coming to an end. With a full work schedule and my favourite season ahead, I’m excited for hot coffee and early sunsets, to cook under the stove light and read in bed, to fall asleep to my own private screening of that beautiful summer I had.
Wow Lauren this is beautifully written - felt like I was living it with you!!