The Mid-Century Wall Desk and the Tale of the Ageing Rock Star (the ARS)

There is something about this desk that I love. It doesn’t take up much space, it’s practical and stylish and would be perfect for those of you who need to find space to work in a spare room or small bedroom. I have just the spot for this in my library, although there is currently a drinks trolley standing there so there might be some tough choices coming up. Mind you, the shelves, which will be arriving at westelm later in the year, could hold the drinks?

Now this desk reminds me of a piece I wrote back when the blog was young about an Ageing Rock Star and a similar sort of shelf. I have reproduced it below. It might raise a smile. You might be in need of a smile. It’s true by the way:

It is a tale about a rock star (albeit a slightly ageing one) and a shelf (or rather a shelving system). It happened a couple of years ago but is no less relevant for that.

So the ARS (as he shall henceforth be known) rang me from his summer hideout, where he was, if truth be told, hiding more from his responsibilities than hordes of screaming fans, and informed me that he would be returning to London forthwith.

He would be needing a place to rent, he announced breezily. And, naturally, for he is an ARS, he would not be able to find this place himself, but wondered, could I, would I mind, possibly, if I had nothing better to do (other than raise my kids, do my job and tend to my own house and garden) just popping round to a few places to check them out?

He knows me too well, this ARS. For I have never been able to resist the lure of poking round other people’s houses. So I rang a few estate agents (because naturally he couldn’t do that for himself either) and booked some appointments to view.

And they were so predictable those flats. Two bedrooms, one large, one small. Tiny kitchen, poky bathroom, not much garden and a magnolia vibe. And then, I saw it. The ex-council house. In a not too desirable road. At a frankly desirable price.

Built in the 1960s, it had been bought by a woman who ran a Soho nightclub. She had stripped the floors and painted them grey. Installed a black bathroom and put mid-century Danish leather chairs around the vintage kitchen table.

It was upstairs that I found it. In the sitting room, with the French doors leading out to the roof terrace, where he would later sit and smoke roll-ups while strumming his guitar.

A wall-mounted desk with shelves either side. A piece that is so simple and yet so practical. A piece that perfectly exemplifies the William Morris adage that you should have nothing in your home that you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful.

Reader I rented that house for him. And visitors came from far and wide. Not to see the ARS in his new home, but to see the shelves, which were greatly admired by all.

And I wish I could tell you that while sitting at this wonderful desk, with his gold discs propped up on the shelves all around, that he wrote a new hit single. But he’s an ARS and he didn’t.

He’s moved again now but the shelves are still there. And they still look fabulous.