Paul Bailie has led a varied and creative life. Having worked as a ceramicist in Ireland for 25 years, he subsequently took a position with the National Trust before being asked to manage Quintin, a twelfth century castle in County Down, overlooking the Irish Sea. Then COVID happened, and like many he felt the need to rethink his options. “I was incredibly fortunate to be offered the Quintin role and I did it for some years” he recalls, “But my partner had moved back to England and there was lot of commuting. It felt unsustainable, so it was time to make the jump.”
It was at this point he took up needlework, a distraction that he thought would keep him occupied for a few weeks. “I bought a kit, just regular cross stitch and once I'd done that I thought I could push it a little bit further,” he explains. “So I tried different approaches and I discovered Florentine stitch. I enjoyed the tension of the structure, and even the limitations if that makes sense.” An Instagram page followed, initially just for fun, but then decorators started approaching him with requests. “I was going to take six months off, but then people wanted my work, and I thought, I'm being told something here.” Now, he crafts intricate, colourful cushions and patterned panels for upholstery. “More than anything I found something that I absolutely love.”
Now based in Worcester, he shares his home - “very ordinary, 1930s, suburban,” - with his partner, Paddy O'Donnell, the International Brand Ambassador at Farrow & Ball. “There are houses at the front and fields beyond the back garden, which is a real treat as we've access to the Cotswolds. Our local pub is in a small village a couple of miles away, and yet we're still close to Birmingham, which has an amazing art scene, and Stratford, so we're regular theatre goers. It’s a fantastic location.”
Ordinary the house may be but given the creative nature of its inhabitants it comes as no surprise that it’s home to some charming objects, including a pair of stoneware ramen bowls. “I had some time to kill before meeting a friend in London, and having walked past many times before, I wandered into Japan House on Kensington High Street,” Paul recalls. “It’s a cultural centre with exhibitions, events and a superb range of Japanese products including a tiny but rather lovely ceramics section.” Among the pieces on display, the bowls caught Paul’s eye. “When I was alone in Ireland during COVID, I started to make ramen. It's a very long and complicated but mediative process, making the stock, the noodles and occasionally dumplings, and it became a ritual that kept me centred. As an ex-ceramicist, I’m always drawn to pottery and these are by a Japanese maker called Miyagi Masataka, who still uses a wood fired kiln. It creates a very particular, slightly irregular effect and they’re a bit wonky, but I love using them. After all, who wants a uniform bowl?”
The beauty of imperfection can also be seen in another of Paul’s favourite items – his beloved Missoni scarf. A fiftieth birthday present from a dear friend, it became a well-worn staple in his winter wardrobe until moths ravaged the tactile fabric. “I pulled it from a drawer and it was in a dreadful condition, but I just couldn't bring myself to throw it away,” he recalls. “Fortuitously, I happened upon a talented embroider called Lizzie on Instagram, who repairs damaged items in a fantastically creative way. I'm not a big shopper, particularly for clothes, so I buy carefully and very little. The idea of making things last longer resonates more and more these days, and so that fact that she was able to salvage it is incredible. Now, it feels like a story rather than a just piece of clothing. I’m so glad it’s back on the hook and it will come out again this year.”
As a fellow embroiderer Paul has accumulated a library of yarn that he keeps in a small chest of drawers. Imbued with childhood memories, the oak set, which now lives in his work room, once belonged to his grandparents. “During summer holidays in Ireland, I would visit them and this was the bedside table in my room,” he explains. “I had a close relationship with both of them, particularly my grandmother and I have a strong recollection of lying on a feather mattress with this chest beside me. I’ve moved five times as an adult, and it comes with me every time. It’s always the first thing I place in my new space and I use it every day.”
Above that very same chest hangs a rather unusual portrait. “It’s of my beloved Jack Russell, Eddie. Adorable, infuriating, loveable and now long gone I'm afraid,” he explains. “I had bought a pair of terrible amateur Victorian paintings - a lady and a gent. The gent was dreadful, but I had to take both as they were being sold as a pair.” Having languished in a cupboard, it was only when his friend, renowned Irish artist Elizabeth Taggart offered to rework the piece that it was given a new lease of life. “She did a marvellous job of painting Eddie on top. It gives her a dignified air, which in all honesty she never really had. It’s a fantastic representation, and I adore it now.”
Back to another of Paul’s great loves, ceramics, and a generous terracotta jug, hand-thrown by Manchester-based slipware potter Frances Savage for TOAST has become a welcome addition to his collection. “I have a thing about jugs and the handmade quality of this is superb, as is the decoration,” says Paul. “I'm hesitant to say it’s off kilter, but it is in a wonderful way, and the spout is set back very slightly, which appeals to me. A good grip is so important, and this just fits beautifully in the hand.” The contrast between matt and gloss glaze also appeals. “I'm a bit of a brown and tan person, and it's ultimately practical because it's glazed inside. So it can be for flowers, for water on a table, for countless things. The fantastic thing about it is it will fit perfectly pretty much everywhere.”
Paul wears the TOAST Donegal Roll Neck Sweater. The Frances Savage Large Arc Jug also features.
Words by Claudia Baillie.
Photography by Ellie Smith.
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