Let life in lockdown take you on a trip down memory lane
I’m sitting on my black leather lounge suite. It is a low back, block-shaped three-seater FLER – furniture of distinction – manufactured by Broadhead Bros Ltd, 65 Wall St, Penrose, Auckland.
The sofa originally belonged to my partner’s granny, one of the first furniture items bought when she immigrated to New Zealand from Hungary, after World War II.
When we heard the lounge suite was about to be collected by Granny’s local hospice (making way for a couch better suited to her age and needs), we drove to Tauranga with a borrowed trailer.
The wall in front of me is painted in Resene Green meets Blue, the result of a weekendlong lounge makeover last winter. Against the wall is an old wooden sideboard, bought on Trade Me, thanks to a tip-off from my sister-in-law.
Sitting on the sideboard is a pile of DIY books – a Christmas gift to my partner – a paintsplattered pot created for a recent Resene shoot, and a crispy dried eucalyptus branch left over from a styled shoot.
The framed map artwork was bought from our favourite gallery after lusting over it for almost a year. Leaning above it is a hand-painted sign, a birthday gift from a friend who knows I love typography.
Filling the space between the sideboard and doorway is a coat rack bought years ago when I ran a graphic design business, because its colour was a perfect match for our brand at the time.
On it hangs the Lichtenstein umbrella I bought from The Museum of Modern Art gift shop when I was caught in a summer
rainstorm in New York.
Nearer the window is a bar stool – spotted at my local hospice shop while out for a weekend walk – and a black iron plant stand, bought from a client after I admired it in their home.
Sitting on one of the two matching black chairs is my favourite cushion of all time – a hand-embroidered blue felt, oneof-a-kind – made by my cousin for my birthday. The other chair nurses a Miro-inspired, tufted floor rug I lugged back from New York.
Serving the space between is an orange plastic Kartell Componibili that I borrowed for a shoot and decided to keep when I fell in love with its boldness and curvaceous nature.
On top sits a woven flax mat that my daughter made in a craft session with her poppa, and two dishes of sea glass and shells – one an old bowl of my Nana’s, the other a stack of yellow melamine plates bought during a fossicking journey to Sydney.
The walnut coffee table in the foreground was a complete fluke. I bought the table and then discovered the piece of smoked glass I had left over from an old cane dining table was the perfect fit for the top. I bought the mottled red-enamel tray at Christmas one year, so I could serve lunch in keeping with my festive colour scheme.
The white bowl brimming with beachcombed bric-a-brac was a wedding gift. The vintage type catalogue is on long-term loan from a friend. And the Jaime Parlade interiors book I scoured the internet for and haven’t let out of my sight since it arrived.
Much like life, a home is a work-in-progress. My room is uniquely my own, as yours will be. Panning the space is like turning the pages of a photo album.
While you’re spending more time than usual in your home, take the opportunity for a trip down your own memory lane. Sit, scan, pause and reminisce.
Life is a gathering of memories. I choose to live surrounded by mine.