I like bright shiny objects, lot's of nice books*, the tiny little hallmarks on English sterling, early 20th century California mission tile, pots of tea with toast and, ideally, the newspaper, the funny mustaches on terriers- (nothing sillier than a dog with a Vandyke- next they will be wearing pince nezs and waistcoats), architectural salvage, thick satin ribbons, rose gardening, horseback riding, and stinky cheeses with a flute or two of bubbly adult stuff.*particularly ones with clever and interesting footnotes
other aesthetes, and n'er-do-wells, also heiresses, aviatrixs, poets, muses, chanteuses, libertines, bohemians, surrealists, literati, intelligentsia, blackguards, bounders and arrivestes. The usual suspects.
Any ethereal female vocals, a little brit-pop, a scoop of 80's alternative, a pinch of classic rock (who isn't momentarily eerily discomfited by the opening chords of "Summer Breeze"?) and a nickel bag of the mentholated sounds of 1950's West Coast jazz. In short, anything moody.
Ishiguro and Ewan McIan, when they do not become too clever. Classics: James, Wharton, Austen, sometimes even Trollope. Some Waugh, some Maugham some Forrester. Cormack McCarthy. Ford Maddox Ford, partialy because I enjoy saying his name. Kipling. A.E. Housman. Modern: well, I just finished "Line of Beauty" which reminded me of "The Go Between". I like the format of the short story, if the author can pull it off. Fitzgerald's and John Fowle's short stories are better than their novels. I love the use of the "unreliable narrator" - it really intrigues me, because it is so close to my suspicions about time and events; I like anything about memory and it's fluidness and subjectivity. This is possibly because I have the world's worst memory.
You can hardly go wrong with Winston Churchill- he painted respectably, drank far too much champagne, made very amusing quips and in between saved the Western world. I'd be happy with nailing the first three.