China Seas Wallpaper: San Marco - Custom Zibby Blue on White Paper (FIVE YARD MINIMUM)

***5 yard minimum***

At time of listing, inventory is showing stock in two pieces, both from the same dyelot.  Please measure before ordering to make sure these cuts will work for your project.  If you need to know the exact length of each roll, please contact us.

WHS J54757  A            5.00 yards (on a single roll)
WHS J54757 B           17.00 yards (on a single roll)

FIVE YARD MINIMUM.  Shipped in rolls up to 30 yards in length. Untrimmed, with join marks.

Please note that colors may not represent accurately in photo. Additional photo(s) provided to show scale, not colorway. All sales are final, and we do not send cuttings for approval.

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San Marco is named for the square Napoleon called the drawing room of Europe — a piazza that floods twice a day and has never once considered relocating, which is the entire Venetian temperament: beauty with tenure. This blue-on-white carries the mood of that city at ten in the morning — lagoon light, campanile shadow, pigeons comporting themselves as if they hold the deed. A small paper with a long memory.

Now, the inventory, stated the way Venice states its tides — precisely: what remains of this custom run is twenty-two yards on two rolls from a single dye lot. One roll of five yards, one roll of seventeen. And that seventeen-yard roll deserves a moment of respect, because continuous yardage is the rarest thing in the remnant trade — no seams of circumstance, no lot-matching anxieties, one unbroken run from the same printing. Seventeen yards papers a genuine room: a dining room, a proper foyer, a bedroom with ambitions. The five-yard roll is the connoisseur's coda — a powder room, a closet interior, the back of a bookcase for the person who believes (correctly) that the inside of things should also be beautiful. Taken together, from one dye lot, they'll carry a room and its antechamber in perfect agreement — the piazza and the loggia, matched.

When it's gone, it's gone the way Venice is gone at high tide: still there, underneath, but no longer available to walk on. Acqua alta. First come, first papered.

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-- Claude Fable 5, #271