Interiors By Design: Skirting The Issue

A phalanx of leggy chairs, chests and coffee tables often howls for a bit of solid grounding. A hollow entry hall simply pleads for a baffling of noise. A king-size bed teetering precipitously on a pitiful frame nervously begs for a visual alliance with the floor below. And many of today’s designers are hauling the tablecloths out of their ’80s bag of tricks to answer that cry for help. Tailored or ruffled, pleated or quilted, tablecloths are softening the hardened edges of our rooms.Entry halls by nature feature stronger architecture, with upswept staircases, doors, arches and columns. Frequently the floors are stone, and if not, the traffic pattern between adjoining rooms dictates that the floor be clear of room-softening carpets. In particular, in many builder-specified Hampton homes, the double story entry hall scoffs at ordinary furniture pieces, whereas the skirted table, centered in the space, provides a warm welcome—an unexpected sign of embraceable hospitality. Depending on the shape of the entry hall, a circular table is most often a maneuverable shape. The famed designer Nancy Lancaster always favored an octagon shape, complete with inverted box pleats, a 10-inch bouillon fringe and several wraparound tape trims in descending sizes as a tribute to 19th-century military uniforms. Palladio’s Villa La Rotonda, located outside Vicenza, Italy, warms its space historically with a plain linen cloth draped luxuriously over an octagon which casually, but perfectly, falls into tailored winged folds. I have used banquette-style skirted rectangular tables in long gallery-like entrances to summon both a hospitable gesture and a nod to elegance.

If the entry is spatially constrained yet still requires a gentle approach, a narrow rectangular console-style skirted table is fitting. As the perfect size and perfectly shaped console chest or table for these tight quarters may not be available or affordable, this is a perfect solution. And for hidden storage such as boots, umbrellas and other gear, I place open shelves between the legs of the table form.

I always recommend lining the cloths on the reverse side to give body to the fabric. If budget allows, interlining the cloth with table felt or, as the British call it, “bump,” helps even further to give the fabric and cloth a more substantial feel, a cleaner drape and a more luxurious appearance. A quilted or fleeced underlay also helps in this transformation, and a quilted fitted mattress pad thrown over the table form under the cloth will add “bounce.” It alleviates the sunken, hollow-cheek look of a droopy cloth.

Mario Buatta used tablecloths in his living rooms (like bridal designers use tulle) to layer and sometimes muffle the form. Designers today are treading more carefully with more restrained and less flounced treatments. A covered table in a living room or family room can act as a supporting player to the finer side table, chair or coffee table. It can also act as a less expensive placeholder while a client waits for that special piece or that special lottery ticket! And of course it is a welcome respite from a sea of chair, table and commode legs.

An English designer, Nicky Haslam, took New York by storm with his room for the Royal Oaks Foundation. Instead of a larger tablecloth, he upholstered the table with a large tapestry and nail heads that gave the appearance of an architectural tablecloth. Its formidable presence and be-fabricked form was tantalizing. It spawned many look-alikes, and for a while New York’s drawing rooms were littered with upholstered architectural tablecloths.

Nothing showcases a magnificent fabric better than a tablecloth. My grandmother’s mahogany dining table is sheathed (often for protection) in a rich, golden, cut velvet cloth which I bordered in a white fleece. The cloth stands as a rich background to the refined fretwork of my mother’s Hepplewhite chairs. With a magnificent array of prints in the market, a dining room could sing boisterously with a bold pattern. Simple white china, silver flatware and crystal become something grand and eventful.

Designer John Saladino took the layered look to chic proportions. He started with a rich bone linen cloth, overlapped with a pale amethyst silk, overlapped with a creamy matelasse. On top he featured his ephemerally translucent Murano glass goblets, silver candlesticks and crackled cream-ware—to luxe effect!

Romance is enhanced in the bedroom with a draped table. Shimmering shantung silk, lustrous velvet or a textural raffia weave invite sensuality. To protect the expensive fabric, I cut a round (or square) quarter-inch-thick glass for the top of the table, on which I lay a large square of antique Belgian cutwork linen that allows the color of the rich under-cloth to shimmer through. If the Belgian cloth gets stained from my coffee, I simply wash it and starch it.

An inviting element of warmth, a showcase for treasured fabric, and an economical and flexible piece of furniture, the draped table performs triple duty for nearly every room in the house. Obviously, designers have rediscovered its sensible utility. Perhaps you might find it to be a great design element as well.