Marc Charbonnet
marc charbonnet
- Location
- NY, NY,
- Bio
- Marc Charbonnet was born into an ancient 18th century French-American Louisiana family with a lot of silver and no one to polish it. That bit of dirty laundry means what it means to people who care, of which Marc is not one. One of six children, he found escape in his sister's doll collection. Later he discovered mentors in the eccentricities of his mother's friend Paulette, and the stories of his father's grand and imperious friend Mr. Rolf, whose tipsy first wife was debutant of the year and would often send whole dinners violently crashing to the floor with her forearm when a waiter's service displeased her.
Attending Catholic school left Marc with a enlightened opinion on the unfortunate decline of nuns' fashions throughout the years: "From gliding across floors like angelic swans, holding their long veils with lithe hands during the gusty New Orleans afternoons, eventually reduced to wearing cheap street cloths, sneakers and junk earrings, proudly rolling through hot city avenues looking like lesbian muskrats." Not that there's anything wrong with lesbian muskrats. As a child he was told these ladies were "the brides of Christ," and now they resemble the roller coaster operators at the amusement park his family used to visit during summer weekends.
Summers were otherwise spent in pools, riding horseback, and sliding down the rail of the tall, wide staircase that lead to the front door of the Charbonnet home. Keeping to himself, with the exception of a minority of colorful, like-minded locals, he grew into a deep appreciation for the truly beautiful: objects, stories, songs, furniture, clothes, boys and girls. Tired of drama, he left for New York City on July 4th, 1987, Marc's day of independence. A blessed iconoclast, Marc fell into potluck rather than a pot of gold.
After his success in New York as an interior designer, Joseph Holtzman asked Marc to appear in his notorious shelter magazine Nest. Responding to renowned photographer Alexis Hay's demands to take his home portrait up a notch, Marc posed on a recliner wearing his black velvet bishop's robe with a ruby, sapphire and emerald-encrusted cross pendulously hanging just above the top of the slit robe, revealed his nude, gorgeous gams, crossed and crowned on each foot with his exact replicas of Dorothy's ruby red slippers from The Wizard of Oz (not to mention he's nestling inside his 1,000-plus doll collection room — an obsessive habit aided more by his experimenting with Prozac than by his sister's childhood influence).
Marc was selected as one of Architectural Digest's "Top 100 World Designers" for three consecutive years. He has designed Fifth and Park Avenue homes, country homes, corporate headquarters and houses in his hometown of New Orleans, as well as restoring Judy Garland's childhood home at the Judy Garland Museum in Grand Rapids, Minnesota. Marc runs his own interior design business in New York, where he lives with his three boys, Benny, Magi and Gomez (his beloved Chihuahuas). Lunch is his favorite sport.
Marc states, "I owe 75 percent of my success to thank you notes and dirty jokes."
MY RECENT COMMENTS
- “what you write is true.
thank you”
November 11, 2009 06:17PM - “Reading this I felt as
though I was looking in a
mirror.
Thank god (small
g) that…”
November 07, 2009 05:41PM - “yummy for the tummy!
thanks!”
October 08, 2009 08:37PM - “wow, you are a great
mom. your childern are so
very
blessed!”
September 21, 2009 03:42PM - “wonderful post!”
September 21, 2009 12:31PM
A Chance Mitzvah
“Hi Marc, you might remember me." asked
the voice on my cell phone's voice mail, "My name is Laurel. You
put me in touch with Marta? In December?"
I tried to remember the name, or names.
" …about the baby?" she added, after… Read full post »
New Yorker
There was nothing in the sky. Not a cloud,
nothing. It was bright, bright blue. The air was crisp, and the
light from the sun was so bright that it hurt your eyes. It was one
of those days where you could see all the way to the edge… Read full post »
Call Me At the Knickerbocker
"Call
me at the Knickerbocker."
That's what he said. His name was Perry Doore, and to be honest I
didn't know anything about him, at least not really. When I
told… Read full post »
With Cherrie on Top
I thought of my friend Cherrie as I walked through the door of the restaurant, waving to Jody. Jody was on time, as usual, sitting with a smiling at a table for our lunch date. I had met Jody through Cherrie, whom we'd all known at one… Read full post »
Blue Hair
"Blue hair?" I turned and inquired with shock
to my friend Javier, almost hitting him with my bag which contained
an antique shawl that had once belonged to Mary Todd Lincoln.
"Yep! He has blue hair now!" Javier replied.
An antique… Read full post »
Round or Brown
"Did you say round, or brown?"
That was my response to the driver's
question, after I stepped into his cab. I was stunned, horrified
and secretly delighted.
I was honestly surprised to have a
taxi drive… Read full post »
put him in the basket Henry...
This past Saturday I attended the 70th anniversary of The Wizard of Oz. The ceremony, and it was a ceremony, was presided over by speakers, first, a gentleman, head of the new Alice Tully Hall (did you know I owe not only Ms. Tully's music room sofa but… Read full post »
Gumbo and the Future
I was flying from New Orleans
to New York City and had brought on board a huge block of shrimp
and okra gumbo, frozen stiff for safe keeping and tightly packed
away. I didn't know it at the time, but that frozen block of food
would eventually… Read full post »
110º in the Shade
I'll never forget the day I spent getting the
apartment ready for a Canadian television show. It was the Canadian
version of House and Garden Television, before that became
the huge success it is today. The show's producers had looked at my
website, and decided they just h… Read full post »
A new tasty lunch tale is being served on Monday the 14th
Birkin Bag Blues
I was having lunch in the 14th floor restaurant
of the Decorator & Designer's building, chatting with a client
named Leeza. We were eating salad, and once again discussing the
design of her and her husband's new Fifth Avenue apartment, which
was taking a zillion re-vis… Read full post »
Gladys Rockefeller
A friend of mine is always spending way too much money at Hermes, Christies, Tiffany's and shops that line Madison Avenue and East 57th street. She says of herself "I'm crazy, I think I'm Gladys Rockefeller" (born 1910)
meals 9-2-09
Lunch is My Favorite Sport
Lunch is my favorite sport. No event offers more thrills, spills,
challenges and rewards. The "eating" part? That's usually just the
intermission. This is the story of a lunch that took place several
years ago in New York.
&nb… Read full post »
The Boat
"When are we going to meet at the
greasy chopstick next?" I asked.
Greasy chopstick wasn't fair. The
sushi restaurant Beth and I were sitting in had been recommended
from several different people who told me it was the best i… Read full post »
The Ugly Truth
He would never forget his first real "sexual awakening." Was it his first real orgasm? It happened almost accidentally. He was stepping into the bath tub and he remembered a sudden feeling of intense sexual bliss, otherwise known as the "G-spot" in some circles. It c… Read full post »
Hot and Sticky 8-21-09
Today the Big Apple is bruised and oozing. The humidly is oppressive and yet I know my home folk from New Orleans would probably find this day delightful. New Orleans at this time of the year is hotter than the hinges of hell. My mood is dark and… Read full post »
Poulet
Her name was Poulet. Some would have called her
common, a parvenu or a climber. She was of Sicilian background
— an orphan who grew up in the French Quarter long since, and
long before, it was fashionable to live in the Vieux Carre. She was
of the… Read full post »
Saturday 8-15-09
Today I received a disappointing email from a client that just doesn’t get it. "NO I DO NOT LIKE THE TABLE" Gosh, a person hires a decorator to get their home on track not quarrel throughout the process. I work as hard as a hooker on the… Read full post »
My Brush With Camelot
When I first moved to
New York from New Orleans, I used to go for very long walks, just
to soak everything in. New York was different back then, but New
York is almost always "different back then" when you're telling a
story in the past tense. Perhap… Read full post »
Mr. Star's Family
Every one of us had been interviewed, every designer in town. Each of us had left the meeting thinking we had been selected. It was a plum job, the ripest client, a big star. Customers of that stature can choose from anyone they please, and this cli… Read full post »
is this true? Yes, well almost...
Judy Garland's Casket Handles
One morning I received a telephone call from
a man who had looked me up on the internet. He said he had some
items that had once belonged to Judy Garland that I might be
interested in. He described the objects as "handles."
"What kind?" I asked… Read full post »
Lunch Time Tales
I will begin to post tales of my life while living in New York and from time to time to the days of my life in New Orleans. Please let me know what you think... Read full post »
Kerry Lauerman
Joan Walsh
Salon.com