Going Green


White cabinets. For years, it’s all you saw in magazines, HGTV, and popular home blogs. Studies were done that showed white cabinets were the most desired by home buyers. House flippers and mass-appeal designers were steadfast in their devotion to all white kitchens. Prior to that, it had been all dark woods. Super dark. Unnaturally dark. And before that, light wood, maybe a honeyed oak with lots of wood grain. Lately it’s all about painting cabinets in shades of grey. But isn’t it more fun to have an edge, to be an original?

In October 2013, Cameron Diaz’s Chelsea, Manhattan apartment¬† (pictured below, with the gold backsplash) was featured in a design magazine. Her kitchen was a revelation, bucking the trends, she chose dark, emerald green cabinets. I knew someday I’d like to design a home with a green kitchen, perhaps even for me. In the years since, I’ve found more examples of design forward homeowners taking a gamble on green and winning big every time. It’s distinctive, classy, bold, original, and grown-up. If all green cabinets feels like overload, consider painting just the base of the kitchen island. You could have an Emerald Isle of your very own.


Artsy Ugly Aesthetic



Culture is like a rubber band. When pulled too far one way, it over-corrects, snapping back past the ideal and far into the opposing direction. For a while it seemed like minimalism was king. I’d flip through a magazine and find houses that could scarcely be called homes. All stark white walls, concrete floors, clean lines, bare bones. For the past several years, it’s been much the opposite, with trendsetters doing pattern on pattern on pattern. It has to be arabesque, embroidered, mixed textures, just layers of visual interest. I believe there’s a happy medium. Ornate and simple are both beautiful, and obviously design is a deeply personal expression, but it seems a mixture of both would be a natural fit for most. Somewhere along the line, I think the beauty got lost in the shuffle. Intricate designs, rich fabrics, and a sense of bespoke indulgence can be inspirational, but are designers leaning in too far? Those elements should serve the higher purpose of design, to inspire and contribute beauty to one’s surroundings. It seems the forest has been missed for the trees.

Maybe my point is best made by way of synecdoche. Consider Gucci’s fairly recent entry into the home decor marketplace. These cushions (starting at $1,150 apiece) are embroidered with detailed images, tasseled, fringed, and made of velvet. Are they also ugly? Is that the sign of the end of a design craze, when it’s been pushed beyond the limits of good taste? If someone spotted one of these in their grandmother’s apartment 20 years ago they’d smirk to themselves about how awful they were, and yet now the coolest among us are shelling out more than your average person takes home in a week to purchase pillow, just because Gucci told them to like them. I wonder what design would look like without branding. I guess it would just come down to good taste.



Dreams of Nakashima


George Nakashima is everything you hope to achieve as a designer and artist. His work can be found in the homes of taste makers and king makers, A-list Hollywood stars and revered designers. As a creator, his style is distinctive, immediately recognizable. And yet, despite the overwhelming popularity of his creations, something about the timelessness of his craftsmanship and his ability to elevate and refine natural forms have kept his work from the good-taste repelling hell of mass-market trendiness.

I spend far more time than I care to admit perusing architecture and design magazines. As of today, I subscribe to four different Architecture and Interior Design magazines and often I ingest the latest issues of four or five others in the bookstore or grocery store magazine aisles. My internet search history consists of endless visits to Sothebys Real Estate, Houlihan Lawrence, Estately, Apartment Therapy, various editions of Curbed (house of the day tag being my favorite), the list goes on and on. Somehow without having any palpable connection to the world of architecture and design, it’s a significant part of my personal identity. In a home, an office, a public space, but especially when perusing real estate listings online, I’m often redesigning elements in my head. What would I change? What do I love? How does the design impact my mood? In a parallel universe I have a thriving design firm. But for now, I have access to a computer. Though I’m not creating, I can compile, mostly for myself.

How does George Nakashima fit into this? George Nakashima’s work fits everywhere, that’s what makes his work so tremendous. Though the work itself is understated – usually a single material (wood) often in a nature-made shape (spruced up through his workmanship) – it brings a room together. That’s an oft-used phrase; “it brings the room together”. To me it means it’s the necessary element that brings balance. Nakashima can work in a sparely decorated mid-century home, contrasting the clean lines and man-made-perfect look of an Eames piece with an organic shape. A Nakashima coffee table will bring instant masculinity to a feminine room, it will bring comfort to a modernist scheme. A Nakashima dining table will make a very formal dining room a more accessible room. In my parallel life as a high functioning master of interiors, a Nakashima work will always have a seat at the table. The proof is in the pudding. Below are just a few examples of his work at work. It’s unmistakable, immediately visible, but not ostentatious. Great design. One day I’d like to own a piece or seven.