
Welcome to Back of the Napkin, musings from Serviette for the cultured world. Serviette was born from the idea that cultivating one’s taste is the ultimate form of artistic expression.
The late Leigh Bowery, who was called “a big fat Australian performance artist” by Newsweek, embodies this sensibility more than anyone. He fled Australia in 1980 and moved to London. He later became muse to the painter Lucian Freud. Immortalized in Naked Man, Back View (1991–92), Bowery’s tush became a bullseye for public scrutiny. But as one TIME magazine critic suggested, Freud’s excitement in painting Bowery’s derrière was “so palpable that you’d think he was exploring a new landscape—as, in fact, he was.”
Serviette’s 50ml bottles have been similarly painted, if you will, with their signature kelly green. Meant to evoke a vigorous green baize, it would make for an unsatisfactory serviette, a fabric too firm with which to wipe one’s mouth.

Baize was originally made from wool and introduced to England by Dutch Huguenot immigrants in the third quarter of the 16th century. Baize became the preferred covering for billiards tables, simulating the color of grass for the indoor version of what was originally a lawn game. The fabric was used to cover and protect furniture and horse-drawn vehicles. It was also the fabric of choice for monk and nun habits, as well as soldiers’ uniforms. Holy!
The term “green baize door” became idiomatic, representing the division between upper and lower classes in British society. In the mid-1700s, wealthy British homes used green baize on doors between servants’ quarters and the family’s living space to muffle sounds, marking a boundary between servants and masters and symbolizing class division. Serviette aims to kick down that door, subverting symbols of privilege and taste to spark reflections on wealth, social norms and class dynamics.