Spring Like

I’m sitting in my hotel room in Los Angeles (more about that later… or you can see wagwan on my social media accounts, whichever you prefer) watching rolling news. Paris is burning. And it’s all terrifying. It feels slightly wrong typing out la-di-da-di-da things. Hence why the Bright Old Things post was at least a good attempt at being an antidotal counterfoil to what is happening in the world.

I’m taking cue from the subject of this post. Spring. New beginning. Ever since I had dinner at Skye Gyngell‘s new-ish restaurant in Somerset House late last year, I’d been meaning to return, to prod around the lush pastel dream-like interior and take a closer look at the unusual uniforms worn by the staff. The managerial staff wear forest green ensembles designed by London newcomer duo Trager Delaney. The male wait staff wear natty waistcoats,breton striped tops and cropped linen trousers created by the pastoral minimalist cult shop Egg, The female wait staff wear trapeze linen dresses in grey, lime green and white also designed by Egg. These are the dresses that have incited an array of inventive descriptions ranging from “beautiful Dalek” to “trapezoid hospital gowns so ugly they surely constitute a case for constructive dismissal.”

There’s something very intriguing about the amount of words written about the uniforms in most of the newspaper reviews. The vitriol expressed in Camilla Long’s review for The Sunday Times is particularly joyless. It’s almost as if it’s an offensive affront to the diner in question if wait staff don’t adhere to conventional uniform dress codes. The uniforms are “weird”. The guys look like “sailors who’ve been sectioned.” Even the most normal of items – the linen trousers are seen as “silly”. Apparently waiters with a remote suggestion of a maverick aren’t allowed to be serving you roasted squab.

Unsurprisingly, I love everything about what the staff wear. Hence a post that veers dangerously into restaurant review slash “Look at my beautiful lifestyle” type blogs (full disclosure: I paid for my lunch at Spring). Fear not, you won’t be subjected to my attempt at describing the harmony of juicy scallops mingling with agretti or why the simplest of combo of fennel, blood orange and hazelnuts is almost painfully delicious. I’ll leave the food talk to the likes of Fay Maschler and Marina O’Louglin. Instead, just bask in all the pretty details that makes Spring a lovely place to eat and sit. The carefully outfitted staff waft around like otherworldly beings in this heightened pale blue dining room, accented by a mic of marble, copper and powder pink, orchestrated by interior designer Briony Fitzgerald. Artworks in the form of porcelain blooms by Valeria Nascimento and metallic leaf layered with glass peonies by Emma Peascod draw your eyes in. The glass-ceilinged atrium garden filled with olive trees prevents the whole space from going stiff. Even the parquet pink tiles in the toilets exude charm. It feels somewhat restorative to sit in this a rose-tinted bubble and enjoy Gyngell’s food, watching them ovoid smocks, casual stripes and forest green hues go by.