Interior designer Maggie Smith moved from Los Angeles to Seattle at the height of the pandemic. Although she knew the move would be tough, what she didn’t expect was to find herself going through a divorce. Suddenly looking for ways to take space and get out of the city, Maggie discovered nearby Whidbey Island. "It’s such a short trip," says the designer of the short drive and ferry ride over. "I used it as this little escape on the weekends for my daughter and me." Originally from the East Coast, Maggie was also drawn to the quiet, seaside feel of the island. "I grew up on a lake in New Hampshire, so Whidbey reminded me of home."

As Maggie moved through the process of her divorce, the pull of Whidbey became stronger. "I wasn’t exactly sure where I would land long term, so I thought I could build this vacation spot for myself and for my daughter," she says. "I came to the conclusion that it would be a great investment in our future while I figured out the rest of my life."

Houses We Love: Every day we feature a remarkable space submitted by our community of architects, designers, builders, and homeowners. Have one to share? Post it here.

Project Details:

Location: Mexico City, Mexico

Architect: ZDA / @z_da

Footprint: 4,627 square feet

Structural Engineer: Deltion Ingenieria

Civil Engineer: Smith Tecnologia Aplicada

Landscape Design: Hugo Sanchez Paisaje and Dealer de Plantas

Lighting Design: LSBA Studio

Interior Design: Amaya Ducru

Photographer: Rafael Gamo / @rafaelgamo

From the Architect: "Located in Lomas de Chapultepec, Casa Kiki is the renovation of a California-style residence originally built in 1937. The project proposes an intervention seeking to respect the historical character and architectural language of the area. From this standpoint, the program is reconfigured through a contemporary spatial logic focused on use and comfort. The entire house was conceived to maintain a direct relationship with the patios, blurring the boundaries between inside and outside.

"A central element of the project is the turret located at the heart of the house, which functions as both the main entrance and a distribution space. This volume originally featured a curved staircase and a double-height space that gave it strong spatial quality. However, during a 1970 renovation, the double height was closed off and the staircase was modified. Today, this volume acts as an entry vestibule while connecting to the second level where the private areas are located. The turret becomes the most iconic and representative space of the project by concentrating multiple functions: vestibule, library, and reception area, while organizing the main circulation paths. Its unique character is defined by the use of pink, which envelops the volume and clearly differentiates it from the rest of the house. After more than 50 tests and with the guidance of a color expert, a tone was chosen from what the space demanded: a warm, welcoming atmosphere that generates an emotional experience. The space recovers the original double height and is organized around the painted steel helical staircase functioning as a sculptural element wrapping around a bookshelf of the same color. This, in turn, operates as a gallery for books and objects integrated organically around the stair.  The vestibule is illuminated through a glass skylight. At the center, a myrtle tree emerges from a circular opening in the floor.

"The study connects directly to the living room, an addition built over what was formerly the backyard. This annex to the original ‘L’ plan opens toward both patios. Suspended against a stone wall is a fragment of a steel lattice by Manuel Felguérez, originally created for the Museo Nacional de Antropología in Mexico City. The living room is conceived as a flexible, everyday space rather than a formal one.

"The house integrates solar panels, hydronic radiant floor heating with occupancy sensors, rainwater harvesting and treatment systems, cross ventilation strategies, high-performance glazing, additional roof and wall insulation, and preserved thick brick walls that provide thermal mass. A covered carport prepared for electric vehicle charging was added. The project emphasizes material reuse and recycled wood in exterior areas."

When Pasadena, California–based realtor Pilar Oliva was having trouble convincing a client to lower the price of a home they were selling, she asked Claude for help. 

The home in question was on a corner lot facing a somewhat busy street, and while Oliva had pulled a solid comp from a home down the street when they initially priced it for sale, the market had shifted and buyers weren’t biting. Meanwhile, the clients had found their new dream home in a neighborhood they liked better and were debating whether they should use a HomeLight bridge loan to purchase the property or lower the price on their home enough that they’d be able to quickly turn it around. The bridge loan required them to sell within 120 days and would put them on the hook for the full asking price, regardless of what they sold for, but dropping the price by almost $200,000—from $1.49 million to $1.299 million, the amount the market now dictated—felt like an insult.

Oliva decided to use Claude to build two financial models: One that would show what the homeowners would net or end up owing if they lowered the price and sold it themselves and one that showed what it could ultimately cost them if they opted for HomeLight. The client only wanted to spend $40,000 out of pocket either way, so Oliva asked the AI assistant to create manipulatable HTML models where she could fuss with various prices and offers. She toggled switches on and off, checked and double checked the math, and spent hours getting to a point where she felt she could trust the AI’s work. "It worked the hardest I ever worked," Oliva says, noting that all this went down while she was en route to a family wedding in France. "I was in my father-in-law’s car in the middle of the night, on my laptop, using the models to put together rebuttals and trying to convince them that they’d be making a wrong decision if they let HomeLight buy their property."

It worked, fortunately, and after a price reduction, the home ended up selling for $1.4 million, just $90,000 less than the original asking price. Oliva’s clients were happy, the new buyer was happy, and Oliva and her team had created a financial tool they could use again and again, should similar situations arise. "I’m a realtor, so I’m just using AI to fill in my gaps," Oliva says. "I’m not a writer and I don’t build financial models for a living, so I ask it to do what I can’t."

With 82 percent of U.S. real estate professionals now reportedly using AI in their everyday work, Oliva certainly isn’t alone. Ines Hegedus-Garcia, co-owner and managing partner of Avanti Way Realty in Miami, says her company is using AI "at every level, from workflows to analyzing data to helping agents come up with text that makes sense for their clients." Only some of the agents Dwell spoke to talked about struggling with the ethics of AI or the potential environmental impact; instead most seemed almost resigned to using it, if only to keep up with their competitors. "As a realtor, the choice is narrow," says Oliva. "The industry runs on dinosaur-era tech like the MLS and Zipforms, but we are simultaneously flooded with shiny new software. I can compete without AI but the time it saves me is invaluable. I hate the footprint it leaves, but the efficiency makes it impossible to look away."

"When an agent gets a listing, there’s [always been] a very specific process," Hegedus-Garcia says. "They get the listing signed. They have to order signs. They have to order marketing. They have to put the For Sale sign on the house. There’s a process that every agent follows. But if you can get AI involved, then you can create a system where, as soon as you get a listing, it automatically orders the sign or orders someone to put it on the property. That kind of automation just makes an agent more efficient." 

Realtors make their money by dealing with clients, Hegedus-Garcia says, and so the more busywork that can be freed up to let a realtor be there to hold a buyer’s hand during negotiations or show them additional properties, the better. And buyers do want that human touch, rather than feeling "like they’re being talked to by a robot," says Kati Spaniak, a realtor working in the Chicago suburbs. "Buyers want personalized attention, especially knowing that their agent is making thousands of dollars a transaction. I think there could be an issue soon where agents start realizing they’re using it too much and buyers start feeling less connected."

"You can say ‘Hey, ChatGPT, please don’t change the floorboards,’ and it’ll change the view out the window or put a cow in the corner."

Buyers frequently have difficulty imagining the potential a space could have; after all, that’s why real-life staging is a robust business of its own. Most of the real estate agents interviewed for this story said they’ve used AI design tools to help clients envision how their style might look in a home they were considering or to help identify architectural features in a listing, like a vintage tile’s potential maker or what you might call a certain kind of column. (Zillow, it’s worth noting, has already integrated on-site AI-driven listing enhancement features, including staging help.) Libby McKinney Tritschler, a realtor from Connecticut, described helping a client visualize what a deck might look like on a home they were considering, saying, "We went to the backyard, took a picture, and asked AI, ‘Can you show us some pictures of back porches and what kind of pricing we might be looking at?’ Three and a half minutes later, we had three different options with three different prices, all of which gave my buyers confidence in buying the house because they knew that, when they were ready, they could afford to make the upgrades."

On the flip side, sellers and realtors can go too far when it comes to altering listing photos, however, with more and more buyers bemoaning AI-staging of homes in listing photos as a deceptive practice in countless stories and online threads. (Online, it’s often called "housefishing" or decried as "AI real-estate slop.") New York City Mayor Zohran Mamdani has even moved to make listing sites and agents disclose when they’ve used digitally altered images, telling the press, "You shouldn’t have to worry about whether the apartment you are viewing online is real."

While there’s an argument to be made that virtual staging has been used for years in real estate listings—and that even physical staging is akin to making plain old cornflakes look a little better on a cereal box by throwing some strawberries on top for the photo—AI has certainly made tweaking listing photos a little easier, even if it does always add what licensed real estate salesperson Suzanne Goldklang calls "the same beige bedspread." Goldklang says it takes her about two hours to turn a single photo of a cluttered living room into something presentable using AI, though other realtors Dwell spoke to and elsewhere have claimed it can be done in minutes. "It’s because you’re having to do it through prompts," Goldklang says. "You can say ‘Hey, ChatGPT, please don’t change the floorboards,’ and it’ll change the view out the window or put a cow in the corner."

"Buying a home is emotional, and when buyers get to a home, one little thing can make them feel that it isn’t right," says Spaniak. Walking optimistically into an open house and realizing it’s been poorly or deceptively staged using AI is, as one agent said anonymously, "like the difference between watching porn and being with a real woman."

That doesn’t mean there aren’t companies out there trying to help realtors modify their photos in a more seamless way. AutoReel, for instance, lets realtors upload up to 20 photos of their listing, which it then blends into a video tour of the home. Alok Gupta, the company’s cofounder and CEO, says that over 75,000 real estate professionals around the world have used AutoReel’s service to date, making more than 200,000 listing videos.

"My staff was like, ‘it looks like AI,’ but I said, ‘I’m not a newscaster, so is it cheating?’" 

AutoReel can turn a photographer’s drone photos into a home flyover, restage a room in a more visually pleasing way, or even remove clutter from a shot, too. Users can digitally watermark everything they make to note it’s been created with AI if they’d like, but most real estate sites don’t require it. (There’s no national MLS standard for disclosure of AI-generated or enhanced imagery, though some states like California and Wisconsin passed new laws, and other states like Texas and New York have general advisories or MLS rules. Meanwhile, a Zillow blog post about the company’s AI-enhanced listing standards says it "supports clear disclosure when AI is used to materially alter a listing image" but also that "agents and brokers carry front-line responsibility for accuracy.") AutoReel accounts can be shared across real estate teams, meaning that a small group of agents could divvy up access to something like the company’s $90 per month "Growth" plan that includes 100 videos a year. "You can create a video in five or ten minutes for less than it costs to go to Chipotle," Gupta says. "With traditional video, the cost for one could be anywhere from $700 to $1,000." Some real estate photographers are also opting to add AutoReel to their sales packages, perhaps adding $90 to an overall cost but providing a video that can be used everywhere from Zillow to social media.

Some real estate agents are using AI not just to market their homes but also their local stomping grounds. Patrick Southern, a realtor with Serhant in New Jersey, says he’s used an AI service called Rayloom to create a virtual newscaster version of himself, which he’s dubbed "Pat AI." Southern uses his AI avatar to relay positive news stories about his region on his Instagram page, like "Hoboken waterfront restaurant named one of best in country," or "Loew’s theater coming back to life this fall." The talking heads look and sound like other videos Southern has posted of himself, but they’re relatively low cost to make ($699 for a dozen per month) and average between 100,000 and 200,000 views each. "When I got pitched on it [by Rayloom’s owner], I was like, I think it’s a good idea but I’m not sure," Southern says. "My staff was like, ‘it looks like AI,’ but I said, ‘I’m not a newscaster, so is it cheating?’ How is this any different than giving potential clients a really great email blast?"

Southern says it’s all in service of bettering the client experience, noting that he always adds a disclaimer in the caption when a video he posts uses his AI-generated faux-likeness. "AI isn’t the superhero," he says. "It’s really the utility belt. It’s all what you make of it."

Marah Eakin is currently reporting a follow-up piece on how AI is changing the homebuying process for prospective owners and sellers. Do you have an experience to share? Reach out.

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Location: 18360 Turnberry Drive, Round Hill, Virginia

Price: $2,999,990

Year Built: 1950

Renovation Date: 2022

Architect: Steve Workman

Designer: Erica Deputy of New Home Old Soul

Builder: Collier Homes

Footprint: 9,198 square feet (5 beds, 4.5 baths) 

Lot Size: 3 acres

From the Agent: "Extraordinary is an understatement for this converted dairy barn with a stone silo and carriage house. Set on three acres in the Stoneleigh community, the one-of-a-kind property offers more than 9,800 square feet of above-grade living space. Every detail honors the original architecture while embracing modern living.

Upon entering, you are greeted by soaring ceilings, dramatic open spaces, dual staircases, intimate reading nooks, and remnants of the original barn woven throughout the home. The ceilings showcase the barn’s original wood structure, creating warmth and texture. Walls of windows flood the interiors with natural light, highlighting the stone fireplace and exposed architectural elements. Custom wood staircases and railings further enhance the home’s character.

Designed for both entertaining and everyday living, the home features five spacious bedrooms and four and a half baths, including a main-level bedroom suite. The chef’s kitchen is outfitted with high-end appliances, including two dishwashers, soapstone countertops, a beverage refrigerator, and gathering spaces that flow throughout the home. A private home office is tucked away in a separate wing, offering privacy for work, guests, or creative pursuits.

The property also includes a finished one-bedroom carriage house, complete with its own kitchen and bath—ideal for guests, extended family, or au pair living. The expansive three-acre setting offers a separate garage/workshop and large run-in shed, along with room for a future pool and outdoor entertaining space. 

While located in Stoneleigh, the property is not part of the HOA, offering additional flexibility. Owners may also choose to join Stoneleigh Golf & Country Club for access to golf, dining, and social amenities. A home unlike anything else on the market, it is rich in history, impressive in scale, and distinctive in design."

For years, a San Francisco couple—an educator and arts administrator—would walk past this Mission District building and wonder. For starters, it was massive, with a flat facade jutting right up to the sidewalk—but there were no street-level windows to provide clues as to what could be inside. One of the two front doorways was set into an alcove, where the walls were painted a deep crimson, and a red lightbulb blinked 24 hours a day. "I would walk past it going, ‘What is going on in this building?’" recalls one of the new owners. "Knowing San Francisco’s history of craziness and social experiments, it seemed possible it could be something."

As a matter of fact, the building did have a long local history before the couple bought it. Constructed in 1875, it started out as an Italian grocery store (with a warehouse in back) that was known for hosting ice cream socials for the community church. Then it became a dance hall and an upholstery factory, before an artist bought it in the 1970s to use as a studio space and a home where they raised their kids. Over time, that artist moved out, and it became a collective of art studios.

When that owner passed away, it was time for their children to sell, and the building was not in great shape. "The city wanted to tear it down," says the new owner. The heirs were inundated with offers from developers, but they wanted to pass the building on to people who could appreciate it for the neighborhood fixture it had long been. "We basically were like, ‘Hey, we’re a family in the neighborhood. We work here and our kids go to school here.’ So, he turned down the other offers and took ours," says the owner. "Next thing you know, we’re the proud owners of a very old warehouse in really terrible condition."

Before: Exterior 

After: Front Door 

The pair hired their friend of 10 years, architect Karen Curtiss, principal of Red Dot Studio, for the ensuing remodel. When Curtiss visited the building, she was impressed by how the flat facade gave way to a multifaceted interior filled with chaotic angles and color. There were wonderful features, like the soaring roof trusses. But also, plant matter was growing through walls.

"You don’t get volumes of space like this in a residential property in San Francisco," says Curtiss, who promptly told her friends: "This is so good, and we’re going to have to do everything." For their part, the couple went into the renovation process without reservation. "We definitely knew what we were getting into and that it would be a lot of work," the owner says. "But at the same time, we just thought the space was magical."

Before: Interior 

Location: 20605 Cheney Dr, Topanga, CA 

Price: $4,995,000

Architect: Steven Fernandez 

Year: 2021

Footprint: 3,353 square feet (4 beds, 6 baths)

Lot Size: 2.1 acres

From the Listing: "In the heart of the Santa Monica Mountains, this fully reimagined Topanga estate is a study in rustic modernism: utilitarian, elegant, and rooted in its rugged surroundings. The property is arranged in two distinct areas across its 2.1 usable acres: the three-bedroom main house at the top, and a lower area with separate street access consisting of a one-bedroom ADU, a workshop, and a restored one-bedroom Spartan trailer. The main house opens to light-filled, open-plan living with floor-to-ceiling Fleetwood glass. A ground-floor bedroom with its own outdoor entrance and en suite works easily as a guest room or office. Upstairs, two en suite bedrooms sit among the treetops. The primary features a private Ipe deck set into the canopy of a mature ash, and opens to a wide view of the hillsides. The gardens were shaped by landscape designer Suzanne McKevitt with an earth-first, drought-tolerant approach. A 650-square-foot ADU offers a lofted bedroom with en suite bath and a private outdoor sitting area built from a converted shipping container. Beside it, a workshop with 25-foot ceilings is well suited to an artist’s studio or recording space. Nearby, the restored 1950s Spartan trailer keeps its own private setting and outdoor bathroom. Together they form a self-contained artist’s retreat and bring the estate to a functional five bedrooms and six baths. The estate is wildfire-hardened, clad in DensGlass sheathing and corrugated steel, with an exterior sprinkler system, on-site fire hydrants, and a whole-property backup generator."

• As India’s modern water systems run dry, communities are looking to a traditional fix: restoring ancient stepwells, ponds, and earthen dams known as johads. (BBC)

• Private chefs, contractors, plumbers, and landscapers are bringing their work to social media, with their clients’ luxury homes often serving as the backdrop. Posting can be a great marketing strategy, bringing customers and bigger paychecks, but only when client privacy doesn’t get lost in the frame, so to speak. (The Wall Street Journal)

• The Van Alen Institute is reviving its Paris Prize, with a new focus on regenerative design across the postcolonial landscape. Created with the team behind Nairobi’s inaugural Pan-African Biennale, the program will award three designers $35,000 each to research communities shaped by displacement and exclusion. (The Architect’s Newspaper)

• The late Paul Revere Williams designed thousands of buildings that shaped Los Angeles, all while navigating racism as California's first licensed Black architect. Now, three new exhibitions are giving the modernist his long overdue recognition. (The Guardian)

• Reality TV stars, influencers, and retired athletes are turning their fame and followers into real estate careers. Here why some argue that the jump to selling homes not as much of a stretch as it may seem. (The Atlantic)

Top photo by Frank Bienewald/LightRocket via Getty Images

Houses We Love: Every day we feature a remarkable space submitted by our community of architects, designers, builders, and homeowners. Have one to share? Post it here.

Project Details:

Location: Kaohsiung City, Tai

Architect: Supra-Simplicities / @suprasimplicities

Footprint: 2,580 square feet

Builder: PDCDG

Landscape Design: Temperature Studio

Interior Design: KCCS

Photographer: Shawn Liu Studio Photography / @shawnliustudio

From the Architect: "Located in Kaohsiung, southern Taiwan, the project occupies the terminus of a narrow dead-end alley, enclosed on three sides by neighboring residences and a school. With only a single point of access, the site is constrained by limited accessibility, daylight, and natural ventilation. In contrast, its adjacency to the school’s sports field introduces an unexpected visual openness, providing a rare spatial relief within the dense urban fabric and becoming the project’s primary environmental asset.

"The proposal replaces an aging two-story reinforced concrete dwelling with a lightweight steel-framed residence for the client's retired mother, while providing flexible accommodation for her two adult children during periodic visits. To minimize displacement, the project adopts a prefabricated construction strategy that shortens the building process and enables rapid reoccupation. Entitled MOM House (Modularized Open Model), the project is conceived as an expandable structural framework composed of repetitive steel grid modules. Designed as an open system rather than a fixed building type, MOM supports changing domestic needs through incremental expansion and spatial reconfiguration while improving fabrication efficiency, simplifying on-site assembly, and extending the building's capacity for long-term adaptation.

"The residence is organized around the daily routines of the retired mother, with the primary living spaces located on the ground floor and directly connected to an internal garden shared with her two children. Guest rooms for the children occupy the upper levels with skylight, while a communal terrace and family lounge are positioned between them, framing unobstructed views toward the adjacent sports field. This vertical sequence transforms the site’s spatial limitations into opportunities for light, openness, and family interaction.

"The prototype consists of eight steel grid modules arranged along a linear axis, interrupted by a single intentionally irregular structural bay. This controlled deviation simultaneously articulates the tectonic expression of the structural system and accommodates rainwater drainage, directing runoff into the garden below, but also as a joint for future extension. By integrating environmental infrastructure within the structural framework, the project embeds performance directly into the architectural language rather than treating it as a concealed technical solution.

"The structural grid extends to the building envelope, which is clad with prefabricated matte-finished aluminum panels. The modular facade reinforces the logic of the construction system while allowing efficient fabrication and future replacement. Its subtly reflective surface responds to changing light, vegetation, and the surrounding neighborhood, softening the building’s visual presence while maintaining a distinct architectural identity."

Location: Bois-Colombes, France

Price: €1,450,000 (approximately $1,692,020)

Architect: Jacques Moussafir and Gilles Poirée

Renovation Year: 2011

Footprint: 2,472 square feet (3 beds, 1.5 baths)

Lot Size: 0.07 acres

From the Agent: "Located in Bois-Colombes, this family home was designed in 2011 by architect Jacques Moussafir in collaboration with Gilles Poirée. Born from the restructuring and extension of an early 20th-century worker’s house, this home stands out in a relatively homogeneous suburban fabric. Its dark brick facade, wooden frames, and fragmented volumes contrast with the neighborhood’s architecture while integrating the project into its surroundings. The ground floor features a spacious kitchen with a dining area, extended by a terrace outside. On the half-level, the garden floor consists of two quiet, bright bedrooms opening onto a landscaped garden to the west. They share a bathroom adorned with yellow mosaics, featuring a bathtub and double sink, a large walk-in closet, and separate toilets. Oriented east-west, the first floor offers a bright living room with a double-height ceiling. The top floor is reserved for a large primary suite, complete with a shower room covered in glossy black tile and an adjacent office."

Alongside parents, neighbors, and teachers, the houses where we grow up help raise us. The childhood home sets the bar: Part of the ongoing dialogue around the housing crisis stems from young people today who grew up in middle-class suburban tract homes feeling betrayed by the fact that those same homes (and lives) are not attainable to them. Not unrelatedly, some of us spend our lives running away from our housing roots, searching for something entirely different—maybe better, more lavish, or more urban; we go no-contact with the conditions that raised us in hopes that we can build a life that we define for ourselves. Even in rejecting our pasts, the houses of our youth form us.

This is why, in the wake of her death Tuesday, I can’t stop thinking about Dolly Parton’s childhood home. The famed country music star, actress, and philanthropist was brought up alongside her 11 siblings in a one-bedroom cabin among East Tennessee’s Smoky Mountains. It’s a place that, at this point in time, approaches a mythology of sorts: She grew up without running water or electricity; the daughter of a field laborer and homemaker, her mother, she told Rolling Stone, made everything by hand—clothes, curtains, bedding. Of course that wasn’t the end of her story—when she died, she was worth around $450 million. While some might choose to see it as a rags-to-riches story, the cliché narrative is too reductive. The house that built Dolly Parton isn’t one that she ran away from, or that made her stardom all the more appealing; rather, it was something that she continued to carry with her, not as a burden, but as a north star.

You can find photos of the house online: a simple building with a pitched roof overhang to provide a covered porch. But most of these photos are actually of a replica built at her Tennessee theme park, Dollywood. There, you can take a short stroll through her history, where a woodburning stove, kitchen table, and simple cooking accoutrements populate the main room; newsprint and floral papered walls are used for insulation. Some of the replica’s furnishings come from Dolly’s real Sevier County childhood home, which is not open to the public but was renovated by Parton after she purchased it in the 1980s.

Dolly, however, was insistent that this upbringing wasn’t purely poverty; she has referenced a quote from her mother, who, per Rolling Stone, told her as a child that, "We are rich in love and kindness and understanding." Parton’s song "Coat of Many Colors" tells the story of her mother making her a coat from colorful rags and getting made fun of at school for wearing it. "But they didn’t understand it / And I tried to make them see / That one is only poor / Only if they choose to be." Her house, her upbringing, returns again and again in her music, a photo of it even gracing the jacket of her 1973 album My Tennessee Mountain Home. In the title track, she sings of the crickets heard from her porch, children playing—it’s not a place or circumstance of strife but of serenity. 

I think of these songs, her love for her childhood home, in a time when American rhetoric repeats bootstrapping tropes, where so much angst is spent on an ideal of "making it." Our collective obsession with abandoning a past self—and past circumstances—has arguably left many generations unmoored, searching for some hint that we’ve attained success. What if, instead, we attempted to go forward and carry those pieces with us? Rather than running away from it, what if we tried to return? It reminds me of a quote from art critic Dave Hickey in Country Music Magazine, where he wrote about Joplin, Missouri, upon seeing Parton perform there in 1974: "It’s one of those places that, no matter where you’re from, you never enter without feeling that you’re coming back to something." I’m not sure if Dolly ever "made it" so much as she has always been coming back to something, each time with a new story, a new way of seeing and singing her home into being.

Top image of Dolly Parton at Dollywood in 1987 by John Seakwood/Disney General Entertainment Content via Getty Images

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Location: 1952 Canterbury Road, Abington, Pennsylvania

Price: $1,200,000

Year: 1938

Footprint: 4,328 square feet (5 beds, 5 baths)

Lot Size: 0.93 acres

From the Listing: "This home was built in 1938 for the Laird & Schober Shoes family, the Christian Louboutin of their time. Laird & Schober Shoes was founded in Philadelphia in 1870 and became internationally renowned for crafting luxurious women’s and children’s footwear, winning the grand prize at the 1900 Paris Exposition. The updated home blends preserved period craftsmanship with modern amenities. From the moment you enter, the defining architectural details reveal themselves: original hardwood floors, exceptional millwork and moldings, stile-and-rail paneled walls, soaring ceilings, handcrafted staircases and banisters, carved woodwork, crystal doorknobs, original light fixtures, and beautiful stonework. Nearly every room enjoys views of the surrounding gardens and mature landscaping. At the exterior, travertine, bluestone, and EP Henry patios and walkways create a series of outdoor living spaces. The finished lower level has its own fireplace and TV. The pool, spa, and outdoor areas are perfect for entertaining. The home offers abundant natural light and storage, tremendous indoor and outdoor living space, timeless character, and an unmistakable sense of warmth."

Houses We Love: Every day we feature a remarkable space submitted by our community of architects, designers, builders, and homeowners. Have one to share? Post it here.

Project Details:

Location: Southern Highlands, New South Wales, Australia

Architect: Bokey Grant / @bokey_grant

Footprint: 1,880 square feet

Builder: Armstrong Residential

Structural Engineer: Structure Consulting Engineers

Photographer: Clinton Weaver / @_clintonweaver

From the Architect: "EA house is a family home built onto a sensitive rock cliff face escarpment in the southern highlands. An experimental house, while simple in form, it solves many overlapping constraints and challenges that exist because of the site, a leftover parcel of land from a suburb that was planned before realizing there was a giant cliff and gorge. Since being deemed unbuildable, the site had been empty.

"The home touches its site purposefully but carefully so as to have no impact on any existing flora and fauna, utilizing the natural typography to its advantage. It has a small footprint that emerges from the rock. A bridge provides both equitable access along with being the conduit for all services to and from the building resulting in minimal impact on the rock escarpment and existing trees.

"Planning is paired back. Public and private areas are opposite, with the living spaces at the lower levels having a closer connection to its site. All spaces are connected by a single loaded corridor that slowly reveals the spatial play of the plan and reveals the site to inhabitants. Stripped of excess, yet rich in sensory and spatial experience. Private and transitional spaces are monastic in concept similar to La Tourette, humbly sized with controlled light and view creating intimate and reflective living. This is contrasted by the lower levels open plan living, dining, and kitchen with larger curated views. Each element is  conceived as a piece of furniture arranged in and breaking up the space. A singular materiality cocoons you and connects to this wider site which feels both dramatic and nourishing at the same time. The varied openings offer many different perspectives of the shared outlook."

"The house manages many overlapping technical constraints: Its flame-zone bushfire rating, ecological constraints, energy requirements, geotechnical constraints, and access does so effortlessly. We didn’t have the grace of an unseen elevation—even the roof is visible. The house’s ancillaries and services became a integral part of the design and sculptural proposition. Its materiality is fire-resistant and maintenance-free and recedes into the context. Combined with the significant levels of additional insulation and FZ glazing, the house performs at a very high level passively. This house experiments with a new way of living in the landscape canopy. Its simple element gesture conceals the technical challenges of this project offering a model for housing in a challenging environment."

Not everyone appreciates the bracing perfume wafting from a cardboard tree air freshener named Black Ice, Vanillaroma, or New Car Scent—I know I don’t. But while I would strongly prefer to avoid breathing in a heavily scented object hanging from a car’s rear view mirror, I can’t help but love the instantly recognizable look of a Little Trees cutout.

To this day, Little Trees remains the leader of the pack among car freshener brands, and their unique shape has become a cultural phenomenon. It’s a piece of Americana, a collector’s item, and a visual shorthand for smell. But if you’re a brand and think, maybe we could riff on that a little—say, put a tree on a T-shirt or key ring—think again: Little Trees is known for suing those who infringe on its trademark, and the brand usually wins. We’re free to feel our feelings about Little Trees, but the shape, that’s on lock.

Little Trees is the property of Car-Freshner Corporation, a third-generation family firm headquartered in Watertown, New York. The whiff stretches back to 1952 when a milk truck driver complained about the stench of spilled milk to Julius Sämann, a German-Jewish chemist who’d fled Europe during the Nazi occupation. Two years later, Sämann filed a patent for cardboard with "odor-destroying, air-perfuming substances"—the initial version was a pinup lady before he settled on the now-famous pine tree. It was mostly for practical reasons, as a conifer makes it easier to peel back the wrapper slowly, branch by branch, to prolong the smell for up to seven weeks.

Royal Pine was the first fragrance, followed quickly by Spice and Bouquet. As drivers across the country took to this practical solution to an unpleasant tang, the company wasted no time expanding the range. Many have been fruity and spicy, like Cinnamon Apple, Moroccan Mint Tea, and Lavender, while others more ambiguous like Pure Steel, Heat, and Supernova. Today, Little Trees are sold all over the world, in parts of Europe known as Wunder-Baum or Arbre Magique, making the dangling tree an internationally recognized fix for terrible odors everywhere.

But it’s the shape we love. "I have one that smells like surfboard wax. It hasn’t had a smell coming from it in months, but I still like seeing it flopping from the rear view when I have the windows down," says Jason Kress, cofounder and creative director of Washington, D.C., design agency Clever, and self-described "car guy." Kress thinks Little Trees are a mainstay in car culture: "It’s almost like a badge of honor that you wear, down to the type of Little Tree you hang from your mirror." Kress says the "masculine, cologne-smelling" Black Ice is especially popular among Honda drivers, a group he used to belong to before he moved on to VWs and Audis, whose drivers he says are more into Piña Colada, which is "more of a fashion statement." 

There are currently 33 classic Little Trees to choose from, with thriving forums of collectors on TikTok and Reddit who hunt for rare special releases and discontinued scents. Kress says he’s seen up to "fifty or so stacked [in cars], as a tongue-in-cheek flex." While he points out there are a lot more elegant (and frankly, better-smelling) car fresheners on the market, Kress thinks Little Trees appeals with its cheerful simplicity and low price: "That amount of joy for a dollar, that’s a pretty good deal! There’s so much variety, so you can make a statement with that dollar."

The ubiquitousness of Little Trees might fool us into thinking we’re at liberty to make our own uses for it. But if you’re a brand tempted to tap in on its symbolism you will soon feel the wrath of Big Tree. When fashion house Balenciaga made a Little Trees–shaped keychain in 2018, it charged $275 for a leather trinket with a nod to retro Americana—and Little Trees sued for trademark infringement. The year after, the company served European budget airline RyanAir for using its image to advertise the airline’s car rental service. Dog toy maker Chewy was informed in 2021 that the pine is not for sharing, and two years ago, Meta was put on notice for failing to take down infringing posts from third parties selling stickers and T-shirts carrying the Little Trees trademark. 

Angela Langlotz, a trademark lawyer operating out of Dallas, Texas, remembers the green tree hanging from the dashboard knob of her aunt’s Ford Mustang when she was a child—this is the kind of "intangible goodwill" that Little Trees has built over decades and is keen to control. "I think Little Trees have been appropriately aggressive," says Langlotz, suggesting that they’re just protecting what’s theirs. A trademark is meant to be an exclusive identifier, she explains, so if you let things slide to the point where people no longer associate your brand with your company, you could actually end up losing your trademark rights.

That means when Old Navy puts your trademark on a T-shirt emblazoned with "Keeping it Fresh," it may be best to nip things in the bud—at least that seems to be Little Trees’ attitude. "Then, pretty soon, you get a reputation for being a formidable enforcer of your trademark rights, and people just leave you alone," says Langlotz. This may explain why Little Trees doesn’t just go after large corporations; in 2016, the company sued a nonprofit called Sun Cedar, which helps at-risk individuals get back on their feet, for making a tree-shaped cedar ornament, and two years later, it informed the Bob Ross merchandising company that regardless of how Ross telling viewers to paint "happy little trees" to cover their mistakes, there would be only one diminutive arboreal in town.

Little Trees’ journey from smell peddler to cultural icon has benefited from some memorable pop culture endorsements. "You’ll find one in every car. You’ll see."—that’s the famous line from the 1984 cult sci-fi black comedy Repo Man, which was ultimately a teardown of ’80s consumerism but did a lot to tighten the brand’s associations with American car culture by placing its products in various scenes. "That film is a big part of why some car people are obsessed with Little Trees, sometimes in an ironic hipster way," says Phil Greden, an automotive journalist whose pen name is Murilee Martin. Greden has taken over 10,000 photographs of Little Trees in junked cars over the past 18 years, across the U.S. and overseas. "In junkyards in the U.S., probably ninety-five percent of air fresheners are going to be Little Trees," says Greden, explaining that it’s often the Black Ice and New Car scents. "In the Deep South people like the fruitier ones, like Coconut, Watermelon, and Strawberry.... I think because it’s so humid and they need a more powerful scent to mask the mildew." Greden also finds more clusters in hotter areas—he fondly recalls what he calls the "Charlotte Stack," named for the thick decks of Little Trees air fresheners he saw hanging from the rear view mirrors of many cars in a North Carolina wrecking yard—whereas in dry areas, like his hometown of Denver, Colorado, cars usually have just the one.

The vapors can get overwhelming pretty fast. Little Trees actually provided unscented props to save the noses of the Repo Man film crew, and overly perfumed rideshares are such a common complaint that Lyft has started offering fragrance-free rides as a premium option. When Greden was an official at 24 Hours of Lemons, an endurance race for cars bought for $500 or less, one of the penalties for misbehaving drivers included hanging 50 Little Trees air fresheners inside their cars. "You could smell it as they drove by at a hundred miles an hour," he says. "It was awful." Greden likes to hang his own Little Trees outside for six months to get the odor out, and then enjoy them more as decor.

Despite the brand’s eagerness to defend its trademark, the company behind Little Trees doesn’t seem too concerned about what people say about it. My request for an interview with a representative was politely rebuffed by Nikki in consumer relations, who only remarked that the company "recognize[s] the unique role that LITTLE TREES has played both within the air freshener category and in popular culture over the years." They hardly ever seem to talk to the press—the rare exceptions being when Jody LaLone, the former longtime president of Car-Freshner Corporation, told the New York Times in 2012 that they’d sold billions of units, "Probably right up there with the number of hamburgers McDonald’s sells," and in 2014, when U.K. car dealer Arnold Clark interviewed the brand’s European sales and marketing director who compared the secrecy around Little Trees’s scent recipes to that of Coca-Cola.

Meanwhile, Little Trees occupies our cultural imagination as the car freshener of record, the shape widely celebrated as a classic design. So maybe saying nothing is the smartest move? "Little Trees have been around for so long, I don’t think they need the conversation," says Kress. "They’re doing just fine—their products sell themselves."    

Top photo by Bill Hogan/Chicago Tribune/MCT/ZUMA Press Wire/Shutterstock

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Welcome to Good Vintage, a series that goes behind the scenes with furniture resellers and dealers to find out how they got their start, where they get their stuff, and what inspires them to keep it up. Know of someone we should talk to? Reach out.

"Our rule of thumb is that it needs to be quintessentially Florida," says Chaim Romano, owner of the Delray Beach-based vintage furniture resell company Dolphin & Flamingo, of how he sources his wide-ranging styles. "There’s the side you see in movies and pop culture: the ’80s pink waterfall stuff, the cocaine-era decor, all that. But before that era, there was a massive amount of midcentury modern, French Provincial, Rococo, and other traditional Italian and French styles. Then there’s the tropical side of Florida, from South Florida all the way up to Jacksonville, which is a lot of rattan, bamboo, wicker, and all the Southeast Asian coastal-inspired stuff."

Romano, a South Florida native, stumbled into the resell industry to satisfy his love of the hunt and to learn more about his home state’s history through the lens of its furniture. ("I’ve never been a hoarder, but I hold onto things that remind me of childhood or something I like," he says.) After finding some success selling furniture on Facebook, realtors began calling him to quickly clean out retirement homes with the incentive that he could keep everything. Romano says the work was intimate, often sad, horrible for his asthma, and that "half of the stuff was garbage, but I was learning that these elder people had refined taste in furniture and decor. Their homes would be loaded with premier stuff from 1992."

When Romano launched his business in 2019, customers knew him as the dealer for "postmodern Art Deco Revival, laminated furniture, the pink waterfalls, and the vibrant pastels, which were abundant," he says, because skilled laborers, many of whom were Cuban immigrants in the Miami-Broward area, helped mass produce these styles while offering customization. "You could walk into a showroom, pick a color, pick some shapes, provide measurements, and they loaded up your whole house affordably. That’s what we kept getting truckloads of. A pink bedroom set wouldn’t last to the weekend, although that style has slowed down quite a bit."

These days, Romano says roughly 90 percent of his inventory comprises the "colorful, tropical stuff" found in retirement communities in Boca Raton, Boynton Beach, Coral Springs, and the Broward County area—all within 30 minutes from his Delray Beach warehouse. He also stocks a decent amount of antique-looking Asian furniture like lacquered tables accented with Mother of Pearl inlays and illustrated room dividers originating from places like China or Korea. "It’s surprising how much Asian furniture is totally quintessential to South Florida. Antiquity always uplifts a place and it’s beautiful to have in a room," says Romano.

So who’s buying most of this old Floridian furniture? Some of it stays local, but the bulk of Romano’s sales are in the Northeast, Texas, Southern California, and the Midwest. "L.A. is probably our number three market. New York is number one," he says. If you’re a shopper based in a faraway city, it helps to know what you’re getting yourself into when buying online. So here, Romano shares his advice for how customers can get the best value for their buck.

Buy direct for the best prices

Romano lists pieces on resell platforms like Chairish, 1stDibs, and Etsy for discoverability, but if customers are able to take that extra step, Romano recommends they seek out the same piece on the official Dolphin & Flamingo site and buy direct for the best rates. "We’re at the whims of the platforms and have no control over [their fees and shipping structures], but when you go on our website and add something to your cart and put in your zip code, you’re going to get a unique shipping price upfront," he says. "Customers should ask dealers for a shipping price based on location," rather than paying a fixed fee provided by resell platforms.

Resist the single-aesthetic furnish

Houses We Love: Every day we feature a remarkable space submitted by our community of architects, designers, builders, and homeowners. Have one to share? Post it here.

Project Details:

Location: Berlin, Germany

Architect: Christopher Sitzler / @christophersitzlerarchitekt

Footprint: 818 square feet

Photographer: Franz Gruenewald / @franzgruenewald

From the Architect: "A 818-square-foot flat in a loft conversion dating from the 1990s has been completely reimagined. Where rooms, woodchip wallpaper, and laminate flooring once dominated, a spacious, light-filled living area now unfolds. The floor plan opens up seamlessly toward the long glazed frontage, uniting the kitchen, dining, and living areas into a single, cohesive zone.

"The dark mahogany-veneered ceiling sets the tone, a material reminiscent of the 1960s that runs like a common thread through all areas. Together with a sand-colored cast floor, this creates a calm, warm color palette reminiscent of Japanese interiors. The kitchen unit, crafted from matte-finish stainless steel, provides a cool contrast and deliberately keeps the wall surface behind it simple.

"In the sleeping area, the restful zone and wet area merge: the bath rests half-recessed on a low platform, with the shower and washbasin concealed behind it. A separate guest bathroom with glossy, reddish-brown tiles in a retro style provides a distinctive accent. A sound system, invisibly integrated into the wooden panelling, rounds out the design."

Location: La Cadière-d’Azur, France

Price: €1,150,000 (approximately $1,343,188 USD)

Architect: Jean Parente

Year: 1983

Footprint: 2,153 square feet (4 beds, 1.5 baths)

Lot Size: 0.5 acres

From the Listing: "Designed by Jean Parente in 1983, this villa with its fragmented silhouette represents a remarkable dialogue between vernacular heritage and the modernist architecture of the French Riviera. At the heart of a landscaped, terraced plot, the house unfolds over a single level. It is organized into three successive volumes, each housing different functions. The central volume features generous living spaces: a double-height living room with a fireplace and a dining area adjacent to a fitted kitchen, accessible via a sliding door. A mezzanine provides additional living space that can serve as an office, library, TV lounge, or reading area. Two shaded terraces complete this through-space. The living room leads to the night area, divided into two wings. The first wing includes three bedrooms with private terraces, a shower room, a dressing room, and ample storage. The second wing features a large primary bedroom with a bathroom and dressing room, as well as a private terrace. The property is completed by a swimming pool and several parking spaces. This listing is located in the hinterland of Bandol, outside the village of La Cadière-d’Azur in the Var department, in the heart of an exceptional landscaped environment of terraces and pine trees."

Some people pine for puppies—big, hungry eyes and wildly wagging tails. Others long for a feline companion, whose affection they have to earn. Others are into koi fish, or chickens, cockatoos, or turtles. But some of us yearn for something else: for tens of thousands of stinging insects, buzzing in a box. That is to say, for bees.

Count me among their ranks. Two years ago, when my husband and I ditched our frenzied New York City lives for bohemian countryside living—i.e. moved to the Hudson Valley—I knew I needed something to better connect me with my new, wilder environs. I am not an outdoors girl, and even less a gardener. But bees! That sounded quaint and relatively low-maintenance. I enrolled in an Introduction to Beekeeping class that January at Hudson Valley Bee Supply, my local bee store, and decided to raise the stakes by preordering a package of bees, too.

I soon discovered that keeping bees is actually nothing like keeping a cat or a cockatoo. It is, in fact, animal husbandry—not unlike keeping cows, goats, rabbits, or ducks. Jorik Phillips, my teacher and the founder of Hudson Valley Bee Supply, defines beekeeping simply: "‘Beekeeping’ is short for ‘keeping them alive through the winter,’" he says. "Otherwise, you’re ‘bee-having.’"

That seemingly straightforward mission can spin into a remarkably complex undertaking, as I was already learning before my first season had even started. Now that I’m on year two, I’ve come to appreciate that for most beekeepers (or "beeks," as we sometimes call ourselves), gaining proficiency with the essentials of the practice can take a few years—but mastery can take a lifetime. 

Getting Started 

By the time my bees arrived that May, I’d studied the photocopied mite-treatment guidelines provided by my supplier, and read through Kim Flottum’s The Backyard Beekeeper: An Absolute Beginner's Guide to Keeping Bees in Your Yard and Garden. I believe strongly in learning by doing, and figured I’d sort out the rest of it as I went. I assembled the hive (incorrectly, until I was nudged in the right direction by a friend) and picked up a three-pound package of bees—that’s around 10,000 of them—from a "bee drive-thru," which is exactly what it sounds like. I tore down Highway 209 in the pouring rain in my Subaru, a few loose bees buzzing around my head as I drove. I guess this is happening, I thought.

A brave friend helped me install the package, which involved shaking those 10,000 bees directly into the hive and hoping for the best. I got stung immediately. The protocol after rehoming the bees is to let them stay put for three days as they sniff out their new domicile—but 36 hours in, I woke up to a crime scene out of Hanna-Barbera: A bear had found my hive and ripped it apart during a rainstorm, scattering pockets of bees around the grass. I broke down crying, and scooped up wet bees by the handful on all fours in the yard. I had no idea if the queen had survived; I never found her.

But a week later, I trudged down to the hive—now surrounded by the saddest fence you’ve ever seen—and saw a few bees flying in and out. Another week later, there was brood (that is, baby bees). Every day, I’d go out and see if they were still alive, and somehow, they were. My fear around them waned, and turned into something else: affection.

Once a week, as is recommended, I’d conduct an inspection, which requires suiting up and prying open the hive to check for food stores, brood (in the form of eggs, pupae, and larvae), and signs of disease or swarming. Critically, it also involves testing regularly for varroa mites—"the number one killer of bees," says Phillips—and treating them. 

What You’ll Need

In my beeyard I use what is known as a Langstroth hive, a simple wooden box with a bottom board, lid, and an interior ledge that holds eight or 10 removable frames. Langstroth hive boxes can be stacked as a colony grows, and its modularity is one of the reasons it is the most popular format here in the U.S.

Acquiring the bees to go in that hive is the easy part. Stores like Phillips’s, where I got mine, offer bees in two forms: packages (similar to the one I bought) and "nucs," short for nucleus colonies—basically, a "starter" beehive containing a few frames with worker bees, a laying queen, brood, and food stores. Hives thrive best in sunny locations and, as I learned 36 hours in, you’re going to want a fence, especially in rural areas. Though it might be tempting to keep the bees in a far-off section of your yard, Phillips would beg you to reconsider. "You’re going to want to enjoy not just taking them apart and fiddling with them, but sitting on a chair and watching the crazy stuff they do," he says.

There’s also a bit of gear required: gloves and a bee jacket, suit, or veil; a hive tool (a small crowbar-like implement for wedging frames); a hive stand (to keep out skunks and other vermin), and a smoker (to keep the bees off of you while you work). All together, expect to spend at least $500 in your first year on equipment. I don’t live in any kind of sanctioned neighborhood, so I didn’t need to check my homeowners’ association bylaws—but you might. And in some states, including my own, you’ll need to register your hive. Since your bees will likely pay a visit to your neighbors’ yards, it’s wise to let them know about your new hobby, too. (Mine were gracious and curious, but some, I have heard, are not so lucky.) "It might take some charisma or kindness," says Frank Schellace, a beekeeper, researcher, and artist. "Teach them, rather than arguing with them," he suggests. A little bribery might not hurt, either: Honey can be a very effective peacemaker.

Beyond those basics, as a new beekeeper, you’ll also need companionship. "The first one to three years for most people are going to be tough," says Schellace. He and Phillips both recommend finding a mentor that can advise you on your journey. Because best practices will depend on your local weather, climate, and flora, it’s best to find one close to you who knows the unique conditions of your area. 

When Ardith Vijh and Nikita Rijhwani were looking to move in together, they didn’t have to search far. Ardith had inherited a flat in the building where he grew up, in the Bandra suburb of Mumbai. The apartment had been sectioned off from another family unit, and it was primarily used for parties and events.

For that purpose, it was very well equipped. There were no real dividing walls, so people could move easily between the bar, pool table, and home theater, with its row of recliners and permanent projector screen. It had a DJ booth instead of bedrooms, and Ardith would often hang out in the space with his friends. "It was basically his bachelor pad before he met me," jokes Nikita.

Still, at 1,500 square feet, the footprint was generous, and the couple—Nikita is a doctor, and Ardith works in finance—approached it as a blank slate. "It wasn’t designed to be a home," says Ardith. "The objective was to rebuild it from scratch. Whether it was the flooring, the walls, or the windows, we wanted to build everything fresh." They hired Kasturi Wagh and Vineet Hingorani, partners and principal architects at Kaviar Collaborative, for the job after their first meeting went well. "We just clicked," says Wagh. 

Before: Bar and Pool Table 

After: Living Room 

Location: 155 Joshuatown Road, Lyme, Connecticut 

Price: $3,700,000

Year Built: 1787

Renovation Date: 2017

Footprint: 7,930 Square Feet (8 Beds, 5.5 Baths) 

Lot Size: 23.2 Acres 

From the Agent: "Nestled between the Lower Connecticut River and Long Island Sound and surrounded by protected land, this enchanting compound brings together five separate living spaces that blend the character of its original 18th-century New England architecture with more modern additions. At its heart is a beautifully preserved 1787 Cape Cod–style house with original fireplaces, and surrounded by formal English boxwood gardens. A soaring post-and-beam barn with a glass facade overlooks the central quad, while two fully independent cottages serve as private guest quarters.

Renovated in 2017, the pool house offers a modern counterpoint to the estate’s historic roots, with a full kitchen beneath double-height ceilings, a book-lined great room, and a fully equipped gym. The interiors open onto the private gunite pool, firepit, and alfresco dining areas. The glass greenhouse can be used as a foliage-filled clubroom or a romantic reception space. The expansive grounds also include landscaped gardens, flowing streams, and a private pond."

Houses We Love: Every day we feature a remarkable space submitted by our community of architects, designers, builders, and homeowners. Have one to share? Post it here.

Project Details:

Location: Allenspark, Colorado

Architect: Renée del Gaudio Architecture / @reneedelgaudioarchitecture

Footprint: 2,100 square feet

Builder: Coburn Partners

Structural Engineer: Correlate Structural Engineering

Civil Engineer: Van Horn Engineering

Cabinetry: Marc Hunter Woodworking

Photographer: David Lauer / @davidlauerphoto

From the Architect: "Built at the base of Mt. Meeker, this zero-carbon cabin brings together multiple generations of a family that has visited the valley for nearly a century. Rooted in both landscape and family history, Camp Meeker looks ahead, offering a model for the next century of cabin design in the region. Inspired by the clarity of early miner cabins, the architecture is defined by a steep roof-wall and a palette of robust, honest materials. At the family’s request, there is no television, dishwasher, or microwave—an intentional return to quiet living. Yet behind this simplicity lies a sophisticated geothermal system that enables the cabin to operate with zero carbon.

"The cabin is organized into two distinct volumes: one for gathering and one for retreat. The primary volume is an open living space centered around a wood stove, with expansive views to Mt. Meeker, an aspen grove, and surrounding granite outcroppings. The rotated roof-wall shelters the space from western winds while creating space for a children’s sleeping loft above the kitchen. The second volume is a row of bedrooms with oversized sliding doors. Three bedrooms accommodate the adults, while a rooftop sleeping porch offers the option of spending the night under the stars. From this perch, the family’s original 1950 log cabin can be seen across the pond, reinforcing the connection between generations.

"A restrained plan and palette of materials cultivate a calm, direct connection to nature. Outside, a fully fire-resistant envelope of concrete, steel framing, and ironwood siding is designed for resilience and longevity. Inside, floors, walls, and ceiling are lined in a singular, rustic-grade oak, creating a warm, unified interior.

"Camp Meeker is a place to slow down—to gather around a fire, wake with the sun, and fall asleep beneath the stars. Designed to endure, the cabin is built for the next generation of this family and the ones to follow."

Artist and designer Laurie Chapman is forever on the hunt for a new project. After remodeling a few homes around the country, including one she and her husband recently updated in San Francisco, Laurie was ready for the next challenge. "We started to notice there was a lot happening in Austin with great architects, so we decided to go see what was happening there," recalls Laurie. Three days after landing in the Texas capital, she and her husband found themselves in contract on a spec house that was currently under construction.

Located in the dense, walkable Zilker neighborhood just southwest of downtown, the house was roughly framed out and had a courtyard plan that Laurie loved. Meeting with the home’s developer, Brita Wallace, and learning about the design architect, local firm North Arrow Studio, sealed the deal. "It was great because we were able to go in and customize the finishes while it was still under construction," says Laurie.

Location: Menthon-Saint-Bernard, France

Price: €2,850,000 (Approximately $3,330,595 USD)

Architect: Patrice Mottini

Year: 1980

Footprint: 2,985 Square Feet (3 Beds, 6 Baths)

Lot Size: 0.8 Acres

From the Agent: "This family home enjoys unobstructed views of Lake Annecy and the surrounding mountains. A manifesto work designed by architect Patrice Mottini in 1980, it creates a dialogue between the vernacular architecture of wood and tiles typical of alpine chalets and innovative solar-thermal design. Spread over four levels, the home is composed of distinct, modular volumes—‘duplex’ units—that offer intimate retreats within a family home. Adjacent to the house, an outbuilding includes a workshop and parking space for three cars. The south-facing home maximizes sunlight through a Trombe wall—a passive solar heating system developed by CNRS researcher Félix Trombe and architect Jacques Michel in the 1950s. This ingenious device captures and stores solar heat behind a glass panel, then redistributes it inside the house via a system of vents. Beyond its thermal advantages, the iridescent aesthetic of this facade blends perfectly with the site and the dark wood cladding of the rest of the house. The design thus adopts and reinterprets the vocabulary of the chalet while incorporating a sustainable and original technical process. Inside, the living spaces are spacious and offer great flexibility in layout. In every corner of the house, the duplex units frame views of nature and ensure each family member has their own independent and peaceful space."

• As small colleges close at a growing pace, cities are left with campuses that can quickly become "vacant eyesores." From Albany to Santa Fe, communities are now figuring out how to turn dorms, gyms, and classrooms into housing or public space. (Bloomberg)

• New York City needs 700,000 new homes over the next decade to ease its housing shortage and keep pace with population growth, according to a report from the Department of Housing Preservation. To make a dent, the government office is proposing to build nearly 17,700 homes in Staten Island and 13,000 on the Upper East Side. (Gothamist)

• Even Jeff Bezos can’t get into Miami’s most exclusive country club. Here’s why Indian Creek, a nearly century-old "Billionaire Bunker," remains a members-only fortress that’s barring some of the world’s wealthiest. (The Wall Street Journal)

• India is building a futuristic capital from scratch, with canals, bike lanes, tons of green space, and a massive quantum computer. But the project—headed by the state’s chief minister—faces tight timelines and a rocky political history. (The New York Times)

• New York City is bringing back year-round outdoor dining, allowing restaurants to winterize their sidewalk setups instead of dismantling them each fall. Here’s how the city’s revival of a pandemic-era program could increase jobs and help the restaurant industry. (The New York Times)

Top photo by Lori Van Buren/Albany Times Union via Getty Images

Biophilic design is often associated with its most visible elements: indoor plants, natural materials, organic forms, and colors drawn from the landscape. But its deeper purpose is to strengthen the relationship between the home and the natural world around it.

That relationship can be felt in the movement of daylight across a room, the shifting colors of a view, or the ability to notice a change in the weather without stepping outside. These moments give a home a sense of rhythm, keeping interiors connected to the time of day and the seasons beyond their walls.

And that rhythm can help reinforce our own. Daylight is one of the primary cues that help regulate the body’s circadian rhythm, shaping patterns of alertness and rest across the day, while views of nature can help improve mood. In the home, those benefits can be surprisingly subtle: a brighter morning, a moment of visual relief during the workday, or the sense of calm that comes from watching light and weather change in real time.

As a result, windows naturally play a central role in biophilic design. Expansive glazing can dissolve the visual boundary between indoors and out, framing gardens, wooded landscapes, city skylines, and water views as part of the living environment. It also brings daylight deeper into the floor plan, making rooms feel brighter and more spacious throughout the home.

The larger areas of glass, however, create their own set of design challenges. After sunset, the same windows that create a strong connection to the outdoors during the day can leave an illuminated interior feeling unexpectedly exposed. That’s why CLiC smart glass approaches the relationship between openness and seclusion differently. Integrated directly into windows and doors, the glass shifts from transparent to private in milliseconds, allowing the architecture to respond to how a room is being used at any given moment.

In clear mode, CLiC offers the visual clarity of premium architectural glass, without the haze, distortion, or tint often associated with earlier iterations. Views remain open and natural light moves freely throughout the space, allowing the landscape to remain a defining part of the interior. When privacy mode is activated, advanced liquid crystal technology changes the way incoming light moves through the glass. Visibility is obscured, but daylight continues to enter as soft, diffused illumination. Instead of becoming dark or closed off, the room retains an ambient glow.

One of Phnom Penh’s newest coffee shops sits inside a four-story oasis at the center of town. Under a parabolic roof, the upper floors of the cube-like building are rotated 45 degrees to reduce street noise, while double-layered walls and an array of openings help keep it cool in Cambodia’s tropical heat. In the café, which is found on the ground floor overlooking a palm-tree filled garden, twenty-somethings sit with their laptops and sip coffee while talking in hushed voices.

Part of the draw for the young crowd is the drink service and third space provided by Brown Coffee’s new Mao Tse Toung Boulevard location, which opened in 2025. But the building is an attraction unto itself, being the former home of modernist architect Vann Molyvann. Visitors can grab a coffee on the ground floor, then see models of the Cambodian architect’s designs in the in-house museum on the top level or pore over his drawings in the neighboring archive room. Vann, who died in 2017, designed hundreds of buildings across the country during a period of urban investment, including stadiums, theaters, and universities, many of which have become national icons. Now, 100 years since his birth, a new generation of Cambodians is connecting with his work through the recent renovation of his 1966 residence.

Location: 2603 Winona Rd, Grants Pass, Oregon 

Price: $899,000

Year: 1975

Footprint: 2,897 Square Feet (3 Beds, 2 Baths)

Lot Size: 40 Acres

From the Listing: "In the mid ’70s, a Cal Arts student purchased a 40-acre wooded parcel with panoramic views of Walker Mountain and the surrounding hills, just north of Grants Pass, up a half-mile driveway surrounded by trees. The property was transformed under the skill of a talented artist/builder, from a modest Craftsman-inspired home into a family compound full of architectural wonder. The main residence is filled with stained-glass windows, custom cabinetry, and hand-shaved wood beams, crafted on-site from the owners’ woodworking shop. As years went by, the owners added a detached guest suite, a standalone rec room, several garages, wood and tool sheds, a barn that once housed goats and chickens, gardens and orchard spaces, a tennis court, and a backyard for lawn games. The property is full of native trees and has a seasonal stream and creek. From sunrise to sunset, the lighting and views throughout show why this special place was selected years ago to build a dream home, now available for a new owner to experience."

Houses We Love: Every day we feature a remarkable space submitted by our community of architects, designers, builders, and homeowners. Have one to share? Post it here.

Project Details:

Location: Lastres, Spain

Architect: Extrarradio

Footprint: 753 square feet

Builder: Luis Galera

Photographer: Sara Cuerdo / @saracuerdo

From the Architect: "The intervention takes place in a traditional house in the historic center of Lastres, an area where local architecture combines thick masonry walls, small openings, and timber structures. Over time, the house had accumulated partitions, additions, and ceilings that reduced the free height and darkened the existing spaces. The project begins with a fundamental operation: clearing out the interior to enhance the original structural logic.

"All interior partitions are removed and the timber floor structures are exposed and reinforced. This gesture restores the full height of the main floor, improves cross-ventilation, and expands both interior views and views toward the sea. The existing structure becomes the expressive backbone of the project. With the space now open, the interior layout is organized through a series of infrastructure—furniture elements that replace traditional walls. These pieces integrate storage, kitchen, bathroom, and staircase, functioning as filters that organize the program without fragmenting the volume. The house is perceived as a single continuous space with different degrees of privacy.

"The furniture is built with simple geometries and soft blue and white tones that amplify natural light and highlight the presence of the dark timber beams. The kitchen and staircase are integrated into one of these volumes as a light piece that does not interrupt visual continuity. The bathroom is resolved within another of these volumes, ensuring privacy without closing the space up to the ceiling, which preserves the full perception of height. Wet areas are finished with durable materials and neutral colors that do not compete with the structure. The mezzanine, previously a residual space, is converted into a bedroom. Insulation is improved, the floor is regularized, and the sloping structure is left exposed."

The beloved Arts & Crafts designer (and socialist activist) William Morris prized handcraft, promoted joy and dignity in labor, and borrowed visual inspiration from the natural world. Disillusioned by the Industrial Revolution, he advocated for a return to the medieval guilds, where craftspeople were responsible for every step of design and production. "Have nothing in your houses that you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful," he once said. He furnished his own home, The Red House, which is outside of London, with botanical wallpaper, hand-painted murals, Gothic-inspired woodwork, and stained glass.

A prolific designer, Morris sketched many ideas that his brand, Morris & Co., established in 1861, never produced. And now Ruggable—the DTC company known for its machine washable rug system composed of a nonslip rubber pad and a removable patterned top—is adapting some of those archival drawings into a new body of work, its fourth collaboration with the British company. The Morris & Co. x Huntington Collection includes 26 rugs featuring patterns of anemones and bluebells, wild tulips, and Persian-inspired botanical motifs. 

As it turns out, Morris’s 19th-century designs remain remarkably fresh today. "For me, it comes back to how specific Morris’s eye was," says Maria O’Brien, Ruggable’s VP of global design. "These patterns were rooted in folklore and storytelling, not decoration for its own sake. That specificity is exactly why they hold up now." To date, Ruggable says it has sold over half a million rugs from its previous collaborations with Morris & Co., making it the company’s most successful collaboration to date. Given the clear appetite, developing a new collection felt like a natural progression for both brands. "People are moving toward pieces that feel considered rather than trend-driven, and Morris’s work was built for that kind of permanence long before it was a marketing idea," she adds.

O’Brien—who grew up in the U.K. and lived in an historic home her parents furnished with Morris designs—viewed her work on this collection as that of a translator. It began with a trip to the archives at The Huntington Library in Pasadena, California, where she found material for ideas that never went into production, including hand sketches, embroidery, artwork for carpets, and "even a small detail lifted from a book cover," she says. Morris & Co.’s in-house team completed the patterns, then worked with Ruggable’s designers to adapt them to rugs. "The goal was never to modernize Morris," O’Brien says. "It was to finish what he started, using the same hand and eye that would have completed the piece originally." 

Ruggable’s first collaboration with Morris & Co. involved adapting already existing patterns onto its products. This new collection consists entirely of patterns that have never been produced and are "completed from sketches that sat untouched for 150 years," O’Brien says. "We’ve moved from reinterpreting the archive to actually adding to it."

The designs feature organic, floral motifs—classic Morris—and come in multiple sizes and colorways. For example, the Woodbell and Anemonie rug consists of intricately drawn large-scale flowers and leaves with a symmetrical repeat while the Wild Tulip and Vine is more subtle with a dense concentration of leaves and small blossoms.

After the team selected the archival works to adapt into contemporary products, Morris & Co. designers repainted them by hand in their London studio. "Our designers have effectively picked up the pen laid down by Morris and J. H. Dearle," says Claire Vallis, design director of Sanderson Design Group, the parent company of Morris & Co. "It’s a remarkable, unspoken exchange across centuries, pushing the boundaries of exquisite U.K. craft to bring these hidden historical treasures into the modern home, as they were meant to be enjoyed." 

Welcome to Living Landmark, an essay series about what it’s like to grow up in an architecturally important home.

"I drove by the house every afternoon in high school and would stop and look at it," my dad tells me. We’re sitting in the living room of the very house he’s describing, an early 1950s residence in his hometown of West Hartford, Connecticut, by prominent New England architect Elroy Webber. The low-slung midcentury home is where my parents raised my sister and me for most of our childhood. But for decades before they bought it in 2007, the wide-lot home wrapped in stone and spring wisteria, and tucked into a colonial neighborhood, was just an object of my dad’s affection. In the early ’90s, before my sister and I were born, my parents toured the house next door, also designed by Webber in the early ’50s. They walked through politely, but kept drifting toward the east-facing windows to peek into the neighboring Kaufman Home. They wished it had been the one for sale.

It wasn’t. Instead, they bought a ranch-style house across town and slowly furnished it with the midcentury collector’s pieces they had always been drawn to: the Eames lounge my mom won at auction while hyperventilating over the price (it was, at the time, the most she had ever spent on any piece of furniture), a set of six Mies van der Rohe dining chairs, and what felt like an entire catalog’s worth of Alessi pieces from their wedding registry. It was the house my older sister and I each came home to as newborns—the backdrop to the early years of our family life, and while it wasn’t the midcentury residence my parents dreamed of, their design aesthetics and furnishings filled in the gaps.

The Kaufman Home reappeared in our lives in spring 2007, when my sister and I were in elementary school. My parents had contractors scheduled to start an addition on the ranch, plans already drawn. That morning, before a zoning hearing, my dad checked the real estate listings, "just one more time," he tells me. There it was: the long, single-level house with a long trellis wrapped in wisteria leading up to the bright-yellow front door, finally for sale. They toured it immediately and made an offer that afternoon. It was my mom’s birthday, and my dad hadn’t gotten her a gift yet. "So he got me our house," she laughs.

Completed for its namesake homeowners and their two daughters, the house was a deeply personal commission. While studying at Harvard, Webber spent the summer of 1929 working at Le Corbusier’s Paris atelier, later writing that he returned to the U.S. "supercharged with the modern movement," and finished his architecture degree at Massachusetts Institute of Technology. The ideas he brought back took a distinct form in the Connecticut Valley, where his work stood apart not only from the region’s dominant colonial architecture, but also from the glass-heavy modern homes being built by his contemporaries, which were often critiqued for making homeowners feel exposed. Ironically, it continued to invite the same kind of attention. Even as a kid, I remember playing in the yard while passersby paused on the sidewalk to stare at the house, much in the same way my dad once had.

Houses We Love: Every day we feature a remarkable space submitted by our community of architects, designers, builders, and homeowners. Have one to share? Post it here.

Project Details:

Location: Scarborough, Australia

Architect: Stephen Collier Architects / @scarchitects

Footprint: 1,722 square feet

Structural Engineer: PMI Engineers

Landscape Architect: Jane Irwin Landscape Architecture

Cabinetry: Hammercraft

Photographer: Tom Ferguson / @tfadtomferguson

From the Architect: "This is a house about both hiding and stepping out. While most houses in the area seek ocean views, this house looks inward and upward to the sky. It’s a house designed for two introverts, both men, who wanted their home to feel like a safe haven. The house is private but without ever feeling closed off to the nature around it: the escarpment, the trees, the stars. It’s in a suburban street and yet looking out of every window all one sees is trees and their canopies.

"The design responds to multiple challenges: a steep incline, a narrow triangular site located hard against a railway line, mature trees we wanted to preserve, the risk of landslide meaning little to no excavation, and as always on this land, the risk of bushfire. We also had a modest budget to contend with, meaning we had to keep things simple and choose wisely on what we might splurge on. The outside is therefore utilitarian; the walls sheeted with cheap fiber cement and painted in a muted tone to satisfy the local council. The interior, by way of contrast, is richer and more colorful.

"As an architect, I like it when something is both practical and beautiful, and when a design decision results in something that ticks more than one box. Simple practical solutions to keep gutters free of debris and to be able clean gutters safely can also produce a great internal space. In gave us 13-foot-high ceilings uniformly around the outside edge of the house. Here, all roofs slope down into interior and all the gutters can be regularly cleaned (by us) on a small ladder. If there is a serious bushfire, we can easily block the downpipes and (with a nearby hose) get a curtain of water falling over the large glass doors of the courtyard.

"The site is triangular and it had nine mature trees in and around it, including a magnificent Moreton Bay fig. To fit the house on the site and keep all the trees, we had to back up to the rear boundary. The structure is a steel frame supported on only four columns piered down to rock. It is rhomboidal in plan to fit the site. The wall, floor, and roof elements were all prefabricated off-site and craned in. The shell was erected in less than a week. Consideration was also given to low-carbon, sustainable materials (locally sourced where possible) including no VOC mineral-silicate paints.

"The house stays comfortable in summer thanks to the tiled floors, cross-ventilation, and a surrounding tree canopy. There are ceiling fans but no air-conditioning. In winter, solar-powered under-floor heating and double glazing keep the house toasty. Local tradespeople and materials were used as much as possible. All the windows and doors use timber recycled from trees originally felled from and used in the Illawarra."