HOT FOR TEACHER
If only our own halls of academia had been half as charming as Moffatt’s. There’s a classroom with blackboards, school desks, and a wall of Bunsen burners and candy-colored microscopes. A glass beaker burbles with dry ice in front of a periodic table, while lo-fi indie-pop from bands like Camera Obscura and Belle and Sebastian play tinnily on a vintage-reproduction radio.
Across the hall, easels, sketchpads, and paints occupy an art room framed by vintage pieces Moffatt tweaked herself. Press and buyers tiptoe in and out, speaking in hushed tones as if afraid to spoil the reverie.
There’s a classroom with blackboards, school desks, and a wall of candy-colored microscopes.
The colors are undeniably fall with “little pops of jewel tones but still with a navy, a cream, and a red, and other classic colors,” she tells Ecouterre. “Everything is silk or cotton or wool…or sequins,” she adds with a laugh. Adorkable, you say? We’re hopelessly smitten.