"I think the immediate impression that her apartments made was a bit of excess--not excessiveness. Just cushy and soft and delicious and beautiful things everywhere. Whimsical touches of color cropping up. Mrs. Parish was a brilliant colorist and had a marvelous way of injecting color into rooms where the materials of the room itself did not have color. She always had tremendous flowers. All of the things in the Seventy Ninth Street apartment she had before. She made it all dark brown and put up those wonderful flame colored curtains. They were cream with a beautiful green, sort of French, what you think of as Madame Pompadour green. And that antique Aubusson. It was a very beautiful carpet. It had to go out every summer to be majorly repaired. But the whole room was off white, with that green lettuce-y - cabbage-y faience that she loved. She always had those leaf plates on the table and that Pierce Leeds ware. Always those Battersea candlesticks. I remember one evening idly counting the number of candles burning in the living room. There were fourteen, plus the lamps. But the other thing, apart from the beauty, was the oddity of the objects. Those three legged tables with funny little chairs. There was a terrific sense of lightness. She wasn't keen on brown furniture. I mean most things were beautifully painted and kept up, There was a French-ness that didn't have that 'elderly lady' quality that a room filled with French things and crammed with objects so easily can have"- Mark Hampton