A Little Idea, a Whole Lot of Love
Updated: 7 days ago
It’s been almost two weeks since The Tablescape Finale, and I wanted to give myself some time to digest everything before writing this last post. For so long, there was always another dinner to imagine, another detail to finish, another deadline approaching. Then suddenly, all twelve colours were together in one room, the book was in people’s hands, and Kate and I were standing in the middle of something we had spent so much time dreaming about. The love shown to us that evening is something we’re still pinching ourselves over.
When I first imagined The Tablescape Series, I could picture the individual evenings much more easily than where they might lead. I wanted to create spaces that invited people to gather, be curious, and enjoy being together. Choosing a colour each month gave me somewhere to begin. From there came the flowers, fabrics, objects, music, and small decisions that gave each table its character. I couldn’t have known how much of my life would find its way into them.
Working with Kate opened up possibilities I couldn’t have reached on my own. We approached each colour through ingredients and setting, finding connections as we went. A dish could shift how I imagined the table; a memory could take a menu somewhere unexpected. Over twelve dinners, we learned each other’s instincts and found our rhythm. I’m incredibly proud of what grew through that exchange, and grateful that the work gave us such a meaningful friendship.
As the months passed, “What does this colour mean to you?” became a question that could take us almost anywhere: childhood homes, family traditions, landscapes, and memories of people who were missed. The same colour held something different for everyone around the table. Those conversations stayed with me long after everything had been cleared away, making me more attentive to the memories we carry inside familiar things.
There was also a great deal happening beyond the dinners. We lost important people. There was illness, uncertainty, and the upheaval of leaving the home where so much of the series had taken shape. Some months, making a table gave me somewhere to put my energy when everything else felt difficult to navigate. Other times, I was exhausted and asking too much of myself. These tables hold both the joy of creating and the circumstances in which they were made. Writing about them helped me understand how closely the project and my life had grown together.
Bringing all twelve colours to DesignAgency on October 3 felt like standing inside that whole story. Details from separate evenings were suddenly sharing a room. Guests moved between installations, with food, drinks, and music connecting the months. I loved watching people discover it, especially those who had followed along but hadn’t been able to attend a dinner.
Welcoming back people from earlier tables made the evening feel especially special. Important, even. Shucker Paddy returned from Coastal Blue to shuck oysters, and James, who had been part of Marigold, was back at the bar. Divya, our wine sommelier throughout the series, selected the wines for the celebration. Having them together felt like a reunion of the people and talents that had helped shape the previous months.
Gabrielle, who joined us for Evergreen, returned with her amazing accompanist, Gorka Coria. Their performances carried us through the colours, from “It’s Not Easy Being Green” and “Orange Coloured Sky” to an original medley combining “Crimson and Clover” with “White Ferrari,” before closing with “What a Wonderful World.” The colour references were woven quietly into the evening, one of those little details you might only notice if you listened closely. Alex, who had DJed Lavender, returned to DJ through the night. Before he took over, Kate and I followed our speeches by digging into the cake, recreating the "let them eat cake" moment from Crimson. It was a joy to share those experiences again, with so many more people.
In the movie room, Alex and Brooke brought the dinners to life through a beautiful black-and-white film, with words from the book appearing over the footage. Away from the party, guests could sit quietly and watch the evenings come together, from the preparations and setting of each table to the moments shared around them. Seeing the footage alongside the stories I had written about each dinner was incredibly moving. Brooke put so much care into the film, and it offered guests a chance to feel as though they had been part of a dinner they’d missed, or to be transported back to one they’d attended, even if only for a moment.
Then there was the book. Releasing The Tablescape Series: Stories of Colour felt like reaching the top of a mountain I’d spent months climbing. For so long, it had existed as files, drafts, photographs, edits, and more edits. From the last dinner at the end of August, I had just five weeks to finish the final chapter, send everything to print, and have the books delivered. When I finally sent the files to the printer, I was on my lunch break on set, and I started sobbing uncontrollably. The relief was enormous. But it still wasn’t in my hands, and I spent the days that followed obsessively checking tracking updates.
I’d never written a book, let alone designed and formatted one for print. Although I’d spent years styling for the camera, I hadn’t really been the person behind it until this series. I was trusting that everything I’d absorbed about images, writing, and books would help me figure it out, while discovering just how much I still had to learn. I was so focused on getting it right that I rarely stopped to recognize what I was accomplishing.
When the UPS truck arrived, I opened that first package with white-knuckled anticipation. After months of looking at a screen, there it was: an actual book, with weight, pages, and a cover I could run my hand over. I could finally let myself feel proud. It was one of the greatest achievements of my life. Then, at the finale, people were turning its pages and taking it home. Something I’d spent so long working on privately was finding a place in other people’s lives. I don’t think I’ll ever forget how that felt.
Making the book also gave me a different understanding of the series. Returning to each dinner meant remembering what I’d been thinking, what had changed, and what I could only understand with distance. Alongside the photographs and Kate’s recipes are the stories behind the settings and the experiences that gave each colour its meaning. So much of my life is in those pages, including things I was still finding the words for as I wrote them. I hope people find something of themselves there too, whether in a memory, a recipe they make for someone they love, or the desire to gather everyone around a table.
For anyone who missed the launch, or would like a copy to give, we have a small batch of books now available. With recipes, photographs, and the stories behind the twelve tables, it would make a lovely gift for someone who loves food, interiors, and bringing people together, if I do say so myself. To purchase a copy, you can click here and I will to arrange delivery for you within the GTA.
And while the book is something I’m enormously proud to have made, none of this would have been possible without the generosity of so many people along the way. People offered their time and talent, helped us build and pack away, bought tickets and books, brought friends, and sent encouragement when we needed it. My mum, my family, and my friends supported this project in countless ways. Kate and I felt all of that care in the room on October 3. Thank you for giving us so much to celebrate.
This is the final post in The Tablescape Series, and there’s tenderness, and a little sadness, in letting it be complete. In letting it go. It was a true passion project that asked more of us than we anticipated and gave us more than we could have imagined. What began as a little idea became something people chose to be part of. That will always be the most important part of this project.
Kate and I still have plenty of ideas to explore. We’re taking a moment to appreciate this chapter, and we’ll keep you in the loop as the next one takes shape. These twelve tables gave us so many reasons to keep creating. I’m so glad we followed this idea, and even more grateful that you followed it with us.
And so, to close, I wanted to share a collection of photographs from October 3. One last look at the colours, the details, and the people who made The Tablescape Series what it became.
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