The One Thing That Could Not Have Come From a Catalog

Every room we photograph holds at least one thing that could not have been ordered online.

Sometimes it is a rug from a grandmother's home, washed and given a second life. Sometimes it is a table built for one specific wall, to the inch. Sometimes it is a vintage lamp found in a small shop two states away, rewired and given a new shade. Sometimes it is a painting the client has carried through four moves and never found the right place for.

It is never the same kind of thing twice. That is the point.

Why It Matters

Deeply personal is easy to say. The way to make it true is to put something of the person into the room.

A room assembled entirely from catalogs can be handsome. It can be well proportioned and perfectly lit. But it could belong to anyone, and on some level the people who live in it can feel that. The one piece with a history, or a maker, or a reason, is what turns a well-designed room into your room. It is the thing guests ask about. It is the thing you would carry out of a fire.

Photo | Stephen Kent Johnson

Where It Comes From

This piece does not appear at the end of a project as a finishing touch. We look for it from the very beginning.

In our first conversations, we listen for it. What did you grow up with? What have you kept? What do you find yourself stopping to look at in other people's homes? Often the answer is already in the client's garage or storage unit, waiting for a room that deserves it.

When it is not, we source it. That might mean a commissioned piece from an artisan we trust, a custom furniture design drawn for the space, or an antique found and refinished during the project. Finding the right thing takes time, so we plan for it in both the schedule and the budget, the same way we plan for tile or lighting.

Photo | Brigette Romanek

Different in kind, every time

Living Proper comes from three generations of art and design, and one thing those generations understood is that a signature look belongs to the designer. A home should belong to the people who live in it.

So the object changes from project to project, and not only in its details. One home holds a hand-thrown ceramic collection. The next holds a restored piece of family furniture. The next holds a commissioned work on paper. What carries from one project to the next is the depth of fit: the sense, in every room, that someone paid close attention to exactly who lives there.

Photo | Jean Stoffer

A question worth asking

If you are thinking about your own home, start here. Walk through each room and ask what is in it that could only be yours. If the answer is nothing, that is not a failure. It is simply the first thing we would want to talk about.

Photo | Unknown