My husband often jokes that he lives in Lucky magazine’s West Coast Bureau office. The punch line is, he actually does, along with our five- and two-year-old boys. As Lucky’s West Coast editor, I conduct much of my business from our Pacific Palisades home. We moved in three years ago, drawn in by its large yard, Cape Cod architecture and, because my husband is a big surfer, vicinity to the beach. The place didn’t need a lot of fixing up, but I love how the smallest details can have a big impact, just changing a finial on a lamp, for example—and it felt natural to use my fashion instincts to outfit our home.
It’s no coincidence, then, that my house, like my wardrobe, hews to an artful mix of high-end statement pieces and thrift-store finds, vintage and modern, and unexpected color combinations. The effervescent prints that make up my closet’s DNA pop up in zigzag dhurries and vibrant throw pillows. The alchemy of contrasting proportions and textures also plays out in my living room: Vintage gold bamboo chairs and a whimsical Asian-inspired lamp are kept in check by a subdued traditional rug and muted modern painting. The first Marni dress I ever bought and still perpetually wear—a purple-and-orange geometrically patterned shift—inspired the bold color scheme in my den, and I think the result is a room that feels just as timeless and stylish as that dress.
I grew up in a townhouse that was the opposite of matchy-matchy. My Indonesian mother had a penchant for chintz and my well-traveled Dutch father was fascinated by tribal arts. The ensuing mishmash honed my appreciation for the eclectic—and perhaps explains why I like the stark contrast of a kinetic surf photograph next to a minimalist Calder print—or polka dots with florals.
Like my father, I pick up furnishings and curios from all over the world.
My carry-on bag has been stuffed with everything from a small glass chandelier I stumbled upon in Majorca to bistro-inspired dishware from Paris. My ultimate find, though, was a thoroughly hospitable bedroom chaise I bought … from a friend’s bedroom. (She happens to be an amazingly talented interior designer, whose house is basically a de facto showroom.) Upholstered in dusty beige velvet-soft wool, trimmed with a Greek-key-print tape, the chaise is elegant and utilitarian. And there’s just enough room on it for me and both kids to sit and read books.
My house may never be “done.” I keep layering in items as I find them. But today, working out of Lucky’s L.A. headquarters in my silver sequined blouse and marigold yellow H&M pants, I’m surrounded by, and reminded of, the simple joy that can be found in all those little details.
