In honor of her recent birthday, this week's designer crush goes to Lindsey Coral Harper. Long before I could remember her name upon chance meeting in a Starbucks cafe, I have admired Lindsey's work. This is how that meeting went:
To Lindsey's coffee date: "Oh hi! You are 'said name.' I'm Whitley. It's so nice to meet you! I believe we have mutual friends." To Lindsey: Long pause, and I think it went something along the lines of... "Hi! ..... You are...... (WTF. Oh, God. The pressure of a name... Cinda Fu+#ing-rella)... It is sooooo nice to meet you. I cannot put my finger on your name to save my life. Your name is the color of your hair, and right now I don't even have a clue what that is."
And there you have it. I realize Lindsey is a human person, just like me and you. But I kid you not, every time I meet someone whose work I admire, I carry a freaking watermelon. Like who am I? What am I doing here? I am so dumb. Not a movie star, not a pro athlete (well that's not true, I did the same thing to Luke Keuchly at Tai Taste) not a cute boy (had to throw that in there), but someone whose work I admire. It happened with the CEO of one of Charlotte's most exciting companies. It's happened with another great interior designer, one of my favorite recording artists, and here, one of my favorite interior designers. I freaking FUMBLE the ball. Every. Time. Athletically, I am coordinated. But I am the queen of brain freeze not made from ice cream. It is really so mortifying in the moment. So if I see you and I start speaking Schneek Wah, it's because I greatly admire your work, or I am intimidated by the size of the center of your central nervous system.
With that, bring on the Lindsey restrained color explosion meets always in check meets Girl Can Mix. I mean the girl has got it going on. Oh, and the hair color... Coral. More champagne please.
