Designer Dish
Torrential downpours can't dampen magical dinner party for jewelry designer ChanLuu
Tena Faust, Chan Luu and Tama LundquistPhoto by Jill Hunter
The lovely tablescape at the dinner, which was moved inside to Kirby & Co.Photo by Jill Hunter
Jay Landa, Chan Luu, Amanda McArthur and Allison BagleyPhoto by Jill Hunter
Jessica King, Tim Moloney and David MichaelPhoto by Jill Hunter
Jacki DeBarbieris and Celeste GarciaPhoto by Jill Hunter
Tena Faust, Daniel Turner, Jay Landa and Tama LunquistPhoto by Jill Hunter
Rima Rahman, Jay Landa, Phoebe Rourke-GhabrielPhoto by Jill Hunter
Chan Luu, Dennis BrackenPhoto by Jill Hunter
Chan Luu and Jay LandaPhoto by Jill Hunter
Ingrid Parker, Jay Landa, Dallas ParkerPhoto by Jill Hunter
Maybe it was the chandeliers at Kirby & Company antique and interiors store casting a soft, assuring glow. Or perhaps it was the presence of jewelry designer and gentle spirit Chan Luu. But when a boomer of a storm recently rolled into town full of rumbling drama and relentless rain, guests at an intimate seated dinner for Luu, hardly blinked an eye.
OK, so maybe a few people grabbed their wine and scooted away from their front row storm seats, but for the most part, the evening continued seamlessly. Jay Landa, a jewelry designer himself and owner of J. Silver in Rice Village, organized the cozy evening to honor Luu, one of his dearest friends and biggest fans.
J. Silver was one of the first stores in Houston to carry Luu and the designer's relationship with Landa has grown from a simple business connection to a meaningful friendship.
J. Silver was one of the first stores in Houston to carry Luu and the designer's relatonship with Landa has grown from a simple business connection to a meaningful friendship. The two traveled to India in 2011, experience Holi, The Festival of Colors together and spent time at her factories, where she employs whole villages, allowing them to take ancient craft and apply it in a new way.
“We just bonded,” Landa says of their relationship. “She represents more than just selling a product, she has integrity.”
Luu’s involvement in Indian and Vietnamese villages combines craft with philanthropy. She opens factories, creates jobs, allows children to attend school and supports an economy in places that would otherwise go without. The demand for her products continues to rise, so the investment is beneficial for her and the people she employs.
“We have fed two villages for four years in Vietnam and in India, girls are not treated right because of the caste system, so we can support children,” Luu says. “If you give them education and a job, you can keep that from happening. We sell a product, but we invest in people.”
She reminded me more of a social activist or dare I say, a smart politician, with her ideas on simultaneously creating economic infrastructure and self-worth.
“I am passionate about what I do,” Luu admits. “The craft in India is so rich that I just fell in love with it. I fell in love with the culture and I get such inspiration from the way they adorn themselves.”
She knows something about adornment, since Luu’s heavily imitated (more on that later) multi-strand wrap bracelets were arm candy before most of us were loading up on bangles, cuffs and bracelets. An artist at heart, Luu is equal parts sweet and feisty and is adamant about how a person interprets her bracelets.
"We sell a product, but we invest in people.”
“I don’t dictate how things should be worn. People should explore that for themselves and wear them their own way,” Luu says. “I have customers and the girls who work for me come in and wear them in a way I would have never thought of and it’s beautiful.”
If you do need stacking inspiration though, check out her blog for how real and really beautiful people wear them with panache.
And for those who think knocking off a design or two is no big deal, Luu has a message for you.
“They (counterfeit producers) use my name to sell their products, I take them down,” Luu says.
Her legal team has a junkyard dog mentality, hunting down fake products and their makers. She loses money, but the bigger picture revolves around the peasant farmers she hires and their lost wages.
It’s a form flattery she can live without.
Plan B for the party
The evening was originally set for Landa’s backyard and newly decorated house by interior designer Dennis Bracken, but when torrential downpours made a beeline for Houston, Landa and Bracken moved to Plan B.
Quickly.
A restaurant wasn’t intimate enough, so after their collective “a-ha” moment, they moved the fete to Bracken’s store. Kirby & Company was an unexpected, but delightful spot for the seated dinner catered by A Fare Extraordinaire.
Kirby & Company was an unexpected, but delightful spot for the seated dinner catered by A Fare Extraordinaire.
Deceptively large at 9,000 square-feet, dinner was served among antiques and art, the walls covered in sheets of paper reminiscent of a watercolor garden. The whole space was refined, yet whimsical, and could easily become a new spot for cocktail parties and seated dinners, much like the Luu dinner.
Chatting with Luu, laughing with friends, new and old and watching the sheets of rain slam against the building from my comfy spot reminded me of how, on any given night, Houston gives me something unexpected and almost magical.
This night it was Chan Luu. Two weeks ago it was sitting next to Naeem Kahn at a dinner for George Clooney at the home of John and Becca Cason Thrash.
Next week, is anyone guess.
