Not In Her Wildest Dreams

How could a woman, born in 1913, who finished her fashion illustration career in the early 1970’s, who put away the “commercial work” to sit in a cabinet for decades, how could that woman even dream of how many people were enjoying her drawings.  And there are so many more to come.

Last week, Lisa Pines and I visited Flavor Paper, the company who is turning the drawings into wallpaper.  Lisa and I have been friends since we were about 4, so she spent a lot of time with my family growing up.   Jon Sherman welcomed us in and showed us a shrunken sample of the “pattern”.  I use quotations because it isn’t so much a repeated pattern rather a collage of about twenty drawings, some larger, some smaller.  When blown up to it’s real size, the images will be about the same size as the originals are.  All the detail and nuances  are there.  It’s really more like having a wall of her drawings rather than traditional wallpaper. Lisa and I were blown away.  Jon told us that the paper will be ready to show when they exhibit at ICFF (International Contemporary Furniture Fair) at the Javits Center in NY in May.  We left Flavor Paper on cloud nine and started walking down the block, neither of us speaking.  About halfway down, we stopped, turned to each other,  screamed at the top of our lungs and hugged each other.  It was a moment I will never forget.

You have to understand something here.  My late father, Bernard Glasgow,  was a painter from the 1930’s into the 60’s.  He had some success, exhibiting throughout the country including the Brooklyn Museum where he was in group shows with the elite like Georgia O’Keefe.  His paintings sell quite well now through Papillon Gallery in Los Angeles.  Through those years,  Mom was the one who earned the majority of the household funds.  She did the commercial work and he was the fine artist.  I grew up on the upper east side of Manhattan in a large seven room apartment.  His paintings covered every wall.  We had one of her drawings up and that was in the workroom.  One of Mom’s friends, when looking at that lone piece, said “I guess this is what he thinks of your drawings…”  And I  hate to admit it because Dad was a good guy, but I think she was right. He did not think of them as “art”. Now the tides have turned. Hilda’s the star now.  Dad I love you, but guess what?  They are art and people are loving them.  And they are going to be on more walls than you can imagine.


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