hitchcock party — chapter 1
house of hitchcock
The house, the decorations, and all the little details set the stage. But the reason to make a night of it is the people who fill it.
The idea was to turn the house into a little Hitchcock world for an evening. Birds in the trees. Shadows where there shouldn't be shadows. A telephone with questionable intentions. A window that probably deserved to be left alone. We spent weeks putting it together, which is a rather elaborate way of asking friends over for dinner.
Eventually, the food came out, the conversations took over, and the house became what we'd hoped it would be: a place for people to gather. The decorations will come down. The props will find their way into storage. There will be a surprising amount of cleaning. But we had our evening. And that was enough.
the people are the point
field notes
01 — the setting
There are books for every mood.Goodnight Girls has earned a permanent place, as has Awkward Family Photos, which contains photographic evidence of my brother-in-law's wedding. I won't be taking questions. There's also a local trail map. I live near dozens of mountain trailheads, which is wonderful right up until a casual morning hike becomes an unexpected tour of the other side of the mountain. And there's a retro book celebrating the 2002 Salt Lake City Winter Olympics. It's even more exciting now that the Games are returning to Utah in 2034, with events once again planned for Snowbasin. Consider the nightstand equal parts entertainment, local orientation, and gentle warning.
Turning the closet into a vanity wasn't just about making an interesting corner. When friends or family stay—especially when there are other guests—the bathroom can get crowded quickly. A mirror, stool, lighting, and a little space of their own means someone can get ready for dinner or wind down for bed. The television above the dresser gives them another bit of independence. Sometimes everyone needs somewhere to disappear for a while.
02 — the discoveries
A dear friend gave me the guestbook when I bought my first home. I called the house Chez Coraline because it reminded me of the home in Coraline, one of my favorite movies. It was old, beautiful, slightly mysterious, and very much a fixer-upper. Dark corners? Plenty. Mice? Occasionally. Quirky neighbors? Absolutely. When I moved farther into the mountains, the name came with me and became Chez Coraline à la Montagne. The guestbook came too. The mice and quirky neighbors did not. I liked the idea that a new house didn't require starting a new story. Now the same pages hold people and memories from both homes, with plenty of room for whoever comes next.
03 — the gathering
watch