As the hospitality industry moves away from brand-standard “copy-paste” design, Cincinnati’s Fidelity Hotel embraces the shift with a site-responsive approach rooted in adaptive reuse. The 165-key hotel occupies the historic Gwynne Building, a Beaux-Arts landmark designed by early 20th-century architect Ernest Flagg and once home to Procter & Gamble’s headquarters. The transformation balances the preservation of that history with the needs of a contemporary city-center hotel.

Photography by Ali Harper; dourtesy of Cincinnati’s Fidelity Hotel

Developer New Waterloo takes a considered approach to the property, betting that a stronger sense of place will resonate with today’s travelers. Stepping into the lobby, the immediate impression is one of restrained confidence. Rather than veering toward sterile minimalism or ostentatious luxury, the design team at Dallas-based Looney & Associates opted for a layered, almost residential treatment that draws on Cincinnati’s history as the so-called “Paris of America.”

Photography by Ali Harper; courtesy of Cincinnati’s Fidelity Hotel

The reference goes beyond surface-level thematic dressing. In the grand entry hall, reintroduced vaulted ceilings and steel flourishes replicate elements that once stood there. Bold wallcoverings, natural marble floors arranged in geometric patterns, and a carefully curated selection of art by local talents soften this nostalgic grandeur.

Photography by Ali Harper; courtesy of Cincinnati’s Fidelity Hotel

Through a set of recessed, curved passageways, signature restaurant Gwynne carries the approach forward in a shade of light salmon pink. Chef Brad Bernstein’s Ohio River Valley–inspired menu draws on Cincinnati’s historic “Porkopolis” legacy. Nearby, Cora’s All Day Café takes cues from the historic markets that once dotted the surrounding Fountain District. Opening onto the revitalized neighborhood, both spaces function as social hubs—urban living rooms of sorts.

Photography by Ali Harper; courtesy of Cincinnati’s Fidelity Hotel

Much of the guest experience is framed by deliberate tactile choices. The apartment-style guestrooms are intimate, moving away from a cavernous, impersonal aesthetic in favor of a residential, parlor-like feel. Unlacquered brass, hardwood floors, and layered textiles give the interiors the appearance of having evolved over time. Details extend to locally sourced minibars and plush Parachute bathrobes.

Photography by Ali Harper; courtesy of Cincinnati’s Fidelity Hotel

Throughout the property, a darker paint palette and decorative elements like frame moulding reinforce the connection between old and new while helping balance the perceived scale of rooms that might otherwise feel too small or large.

Photography by Ali Harper; courtesy of Cincinnati’s Fidelity Hotel

Restoring the National Register–listed Gwynne Building was technically complex. The highly ornamented structure is a composite of four distinct buildings with varying floor elevations and structural systems. To better unify the program, the architects and engineers introduced a new four-story light court, complete with a grand staircase. Beyond reinforcing the building’s historical character, this substantial architectural feature serves as a central artery, bringing air and light into the previously segmented interior. Similarly, the reopening of once-closed terraces keeps guests visually connected to the city’s skyline, tethering the hotel to its downtown setting.

Photography by Ali Harper; courtesy of Cincinnati’s Fidelity Hotel

In a market already home to established art-centric hospitality like the 21c Museum Hotel, Fidelity will have to establish an identity of its own. Its answer is less about singular “wow” moments or high-concept installations than the cumulative effect of architecture, materials, and details that feel rooted in the building itself. By honoring the Gwynne Building’s Beaux-Arts bones while embracing the intimacy of a modern pied-à-terre, New Waterloo gives the historic structure a new purpose without erasing the qualities that made it worth preserving in the first place.

When Hannah Buechler was 13 years old, she spent hours in her mother’s garage, happily painting with her hands and making a mess. Even at this young age, she had already discovered her calling. “I realized then—and I still believe this to be true now—that making art was what I enjoyed most,” she says.

A multidisciplinary artist, Buechler received her bachelor’s degree in fibers from the Savannah College of Art and Design (SCAD). Now based in Los Angeles, she launched her eponymous studio to produce her signature tactile collages. She also explores how simplicity can blossom into complex layers as she makes rich textures from small, repetitive gestures.

As the daughter of a scientist, Buechler gives thoughtful consideration to the origins, properties, and possibilities of her materials. She has experimented with everything from resin to embroidery, and even makes her own textiles.

Buechler has loved fashion for as long as she can remember, and in 2021, she accepted a role at apparel company Libertine. As the brand’s senior designer, she specializes in patterns, screenprinting, and digital graphics.

Buechler is content to balance her 9-to-5 duties with her craft for now, but she envisions a future pivot. “I have always had a creative corporate job while continuing my studio practice,” she notes. “I have done my best to sell my work on my own, but I am hopeful I can make this my sole career.”

Today, Hannah Buechler joins us for Friday Five! Below, she shares five inspirations and five of her favorite projects.

Hannah Buechler’s 5 Inspirations

Ozzy Osbourne from the cover of ‘The Ultimate Sin’ painted on ‘Flight DL 7710: Embrace The Crash’ by Hannah Buechler. Photography by Julia Deptula.

1. Music

Music has always been a driving force and inspiration for my work. Often I create a piece and feel a song, where it may be the colors or patterns, and many times I name my pieces after song titles. I don’t shuffle my music, so when I listen to albums, I can hear the song transitions and understand the style behind each artist’s album. My taste is all over the place: I love heavy metal, rap, pop, rock, and indie. Today, I started my day listening to Electric Light Orchestra, then switched to Candlemass and Ariana Grande.

Photography courtesy of Hannah Buechler

2. Experimenting

Being an experimental artist has opened the door to continuous learning. I love blending processes with materials so much that I create my own textiles, including what I call my loom bands. Over the years, I have loved to experiment with resin, embroidery, and painting techniques. One of my favorite experimental projects—which I have yet to release—is called Freshman 25. As a freshman at SCAD, I collected chip bags and microwaved them. I have around 100 microwaved chip bags. Until I know how to mount them, I will only tell the world about them, but it has been a project deep in the back of my mind that I know I have to complete.

Photography courtesy of Hannah Buechler

3. Fashion

I have loved clothes since I knew how to dress myself. My parents both appreciated clothes and fashion, so I grew up watching how they dressed and always felt inspired to look good and feel good in clothes. I don’t think it surprises anyone who knows me that I’ve worked in fashion for the last five years as Libertine’s surface designer. Even when I was younger, I can remember being inspired by specific collections: Karl Lagerfeld collections with Chanel: Pre-Fall 2012 Paris-Bombay and Pre-Fall 2014 Paris-Dallas. All of Alexander McQueen’s work, from the theatrical sets to the clothes (No. 13 Paint Dress Finale, Spring/Summer 1999). Growing up, I loved feeling and seeing the colorful textiles in department stores, especially the Chanel tweeds.

Photography courtesy of Hannah Buechler

4. Collecting

I have always had a knack for collecting, as many people do. I have a white Panasonic VHS TV and love creating “tape towers” in corners of my room. My cigar boxes hold different materials: colored pencils, colored pencil shavings, pens, paint scraps, resin scraps, etc. One of the first things I started collecting as a kid was vinyl after being gifted The Beatles’ Magical Mystery Tour and Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, as well as The Rolling Stones’ Undercover. My newest obsession is Kieselstein-Cord handbags, a brand that is niche and ornate, with gold, animalistic details like crocodile feet on the bottom of a handbag.

Photography courtesy of Hannah Buechler

5. My dog, Stevie

Stevie, aka Steve, is my 9-year-old Boston Terrier child. She has lived with me all over the world, from Savannah to Paris and San Diego to New York, and now in Los Angeles. She has traveled to South America and all over the United States with me, being the best and easiest travel companion despite her stubborn personality. She is the strangest, quirkiest dog and incredibly bright yet silly at the same time. She has a funny way of understanding the materials I am working with and what she can step on. She will effortlessly walk around a painting or wet substrate on the ground but will also walk and sit on my loom band pieces.

5 Projects by Hannah Buechler

‘Cosmos’ by Hannah Buechler; 2022–2025, beads, broken jewelry, safety pins, glass, paint, resin, and recycled fabrics on panel. Photography by Spencer Higgins.

1. Satellite Series: Cosmos

Cosmos was the culmination of saved project experiments from college, extensive beading with broken jewelry, and themes of deconstruction and reconstruction, resulting in a large (63 x 48 inches) free-standing artwork that can also be wall-mounted.

I started this piece when I was sick and quarantined with COVID. I had never watched Euphoria before, so I binge-watched two seasons and beaded from my room with no idea how large this piece would become.

Over the four years I spent working on Cosmos, it transformed from a small, beaded textile into an endless artwork full of experiments, including embedded loose material under mesh layers, chain woven between rows of safety pins, and pieces of a beaded, broken vase dipped in resin. Creating Cosmos has made me think of the possibilities of making other time capsule pieces for others. I imagine someone who doesn’t want to throw out certain textiles, materials, or jewelry they may have.

I do look at this piece every day, though, and think about adding to it. I am starting to see shapes form the more I look at it, which makes me want to play off of that and create something more representational.

‘Palisade’ by Hannah Buechler; 2025, loom bands, wool, and felt framed. Photography by Spencer Higgins.

2. Palisade

Palisade was the product of staying hunkered down during the 2025 Los Angeles fires. I needed to create something in order to cope with the disasters around us.

The composition was inspired by my drive home the day the fires started, as I watched the flames rise off the mountains beneath the Getty. Growing up in San Diego, I will never forget some of the times we had to evacuate during fires. I grew up in a town that is filled with Eucalyptus trees, which always pose a threat. I will never forget the grayish-black, thick skies, often with a hint of yellow and orange depending on how close you were to the fire. With Palisade, I wanted to emphasize black, grays, and white, with bright, striking hues. Creating a little moment in the bottom right corner symbolized the drastic color change from before and after the fire.

At the time, my partner and I decided to stay in LA—despite living on the base of the Santa Monica Mountains. We were racking our brains over how to get our work out of our home (my partner is a fashion designer who makes custom clothes for rock ‘n’ rollers like Billy Idol). My family offered to drive up to help move some of the things that we couldn’t bear to part with. When thinking about leaving some of my larger pieces behind—like Cosmos, which was still a work in progress then—I decided to stay. Staying gave me the opportunity to create Palisade, creating something that symbolized a moment in time.

‘Alaska’ by Hannah Buechler; 2022, beads, safety pins, fishing beads, indicators, fishing line, and flatbed crystals. Photography courtesy of Buechler.

3. Alaska

This project brought many challenges; however, the outcome was better than I had hoped. I was commissioned by a woman whose husband caught the fish that is printed on the fabric substrate. The Japanese technique of Gyotaku lets you create an exact, lifelike record of a catch before selling or eating the fish.

Coincidentally, I took this project on a fly-fishing trip to Alaska with my family. It wasn’t until this trip that I really started to see the correlations between fly-fishing and beading. More than just the materials I work with, including fishing line, lures, and flies, beading and fishing are both very patient processes.

The commission took 11 months to complete, and when framed, I wanted to show the extensive beading on the backside of the textile, so I had a piece of plexiglass laser-cut with holes around the edge. This let me use fishing line to sew the fabric into the base of the frame. To secure the line, I added fishing lures/beads to hold the fabric in place.

Contemplation’ by Hannah Buechler; 2025, loom bands, wool, and felt framed. Photography by Spencer Higgins.

4. Contemplation/The Weight of Memory

As the daughter of a biochemist, I think I was inherently fascinated with the human body and anatomy. We grew up with a real human skeleton in our home, named Walter, who probably should have scared me as a kid, but I found the body to be a source of inspiration. Growing up with Walter, I always found a way of tying anatomy back into my work. My first body of work was when I was 17 and in high school. It featured different parts of the body, using different techniques in each piece.

‘The Weight of Memory’ by Hannah Buechler; 2025, loom bands, wool, and felt framed. Photography by Spencer Higgins.

These two pieces were my way of adding representation of the body into my loom band work. These pieces brought many challenges, including letting go of the “freestyle” aspect of creating my loom band pieces. I had to plan and redraw the faces a lot, which was the opposite of how I approach my other works, which tend to be more fluid.

‘Wild Like West Texas Winds’ by Hannah Buechler; 2019, gouache on canvas. Photography courtesy of Buechler.

5. Wild Like the West Texas Winds

In many ways, painting has always been a way for me to be more expressive and representational in my compositions and processes. As I tend to allow color, line, and texture to drive my loom band pieces, my paintings give me a moment to reflect on gradients, repetitive patterns like stripes, camo, and animal prints, flora and fauna. Even though I completed this piece in 2019, it still remains one of my favorite paintings because of the time I had to make it.

The name Wild Like the West Texas Winds came from one of my grandpa’s many quotes he used to describe me. When I painted this piece, my grandpa had just been admitted to a nursing home. I would go to work every day, visit my grandpa, and then come home to paint; this piece was one I became obsessed with coming home to.

I have tried to create paintings similar to this one, but they end up being too chaotic. WLTWTW will always be special to me in many ways.

Brooklyn-based art collective MSCHF has made a practice of turning familiar objects into something stranger, whether that means blowing a cartoonish red boot up to near-comical proportions or shrinking a handbag to microscopic scale. For its latest experiment in distortion, MSCHF has chosen a considerably larger subject: two Lexus vehicles.

Photography by Matt Hartz for Lexus

Commissioned by Lexus for MOTOMORPHOSIS, a new exhibition opening during New York’s Armory Week, MSCHF transformed a Lexus RZ 450e and RX 450h+ into a pair of automotive sculptures that look less fabricated than digitally manipulated. Each appears alongside its production counterpart, making the extent of the transformations immediately apparent.
The RZ 450e becomes Circle Car, its body stretched and curved until the front and rear meet in a continuous loop. The RX 450h+ undergoes a different kind of contortion in Twisted Car, where the vehicle rotates dramatically along its length, pulling its windows, doors, and body lines into a spiral.

Photography by Matt Hartz for Lexus

While both might resemble concept cars from an especially surreal auto show, MSCHF calls them “Form Cars.” The distinction flips the conventional concept-car exercise on its head: rather than using an experimental vehicle to explore future technology or functionality, the collective treats the existing automobile primarily as a form to be manipulated.

Photography by Fritz Metayer for MSCHF

That approach draws from the digital tools designers routinely use. Operations like stretching, bending, and twisting an object are relatively mundane inside 3D software, even when they produce geometries that would be absurd in the physical world. MSCHF also points to the “squash and stretch” of 3D animation, where forms distort through smear frames to communicate action. MOTOMORPHOSIS effectively freezes that visual shorthand and gives it physical mass.

Photography by Fritz Metayer for MSCHF

Exhibiting the sculptures beside intact versions of the vehicles reinforces the contradiction. One object is carefully engineered to move through physical space; its distorted double is completely static, yet visually communicates movement more emphatically.

Photography by Fritz Metayer for MSCHF

“Most conversations about electrification focus on how a vehicle is powered. MOTOMORPHOSIS asks a different question: What can electricity power in our imagination?” says Lisa McQueen, senior manager of Lexus marketing. “Working with MSCHF allowed us to take the automobile beyond its familiar form and explore movement, transformation and possibility in an entirely new way.”

Photography by Fritz Metayer for MSCHF

MOTOMORPHOSIS is on view at Chelsea Industrial in New York until Sept. 26, 2026.

Editorial Transparency: This article was developed with the assistance of AI tools, which may have been used for research, outlining, editing, or copy refinement. Reporting, fact-checking, and editorial decisions were made by the Design Milk editorial team.

Even if you don’t know the Porsche 550 Spyder, you probably recognize it. The nimble little roadster became a racing icon in the 1950s, claiming glory at events like the 24 Hours of Le Mans and the Carrera Panamericana, while also earning a permanent place in pop culture as the car associated with James Dean. Now, 75 years after it was created, Porsche is celebrating the 550 Spyder in a somewhat unconventional way: with a smaller-than-life, fully drivable replica.

Photography courtesy of Hedley Studios and Porsche

The 550 Spyder J isn’t a model car, not in the sense you’d normally think of one. It’s 80% the size of its inspiration, although it still has enough room to carry two people. The original 550 was powered by a four-cylinder boxer engine—its mini-me is motivated by electrons. The base version makes 8 kW, or about 11 hp, and tops out at 40 mph. Opt for the RS Package, and both the batteries and power double, bringing output to 16 kW (21 hp) and top speed to 50 mph. (Don’t worry about getting passed on the highway, though, because it isn’t street legal.)

Photography courtesy of Hedley Studios and Porsche

The 550 J—the letter stands for “junior”—is the byproduct of a collaboration between Porsche and Hedley Studios, a United Kingdom-based company that specializes in building small-scale drivable replicas of some of the most iconic vintage automobiles, such as the Ferrari Testa Rossa and Bugatti Type 35. To deliver maximum fidelity, Hedley scanned actual cars and pored over archival material from Porsche’s own archives, crafting a near-identical recreation from more than 1,300 components.

Photography courtesy of Hedley Studios and Porsche

Like a real brand-new Porsche, the 550 J is highly customizable. Hedley offers an array of historical and modern colors for the carbon-fiber body and many shades of leather and faux suede inside, plus access to the Porsche 911’s massive Paint-to-Sample off-menu palette and a deep well of liveries inspired by historic racers, with decals and racing numbers to match. Bodywork such as cowls and tiny windshields can be specced or avoided, too. But if that still leaves a customer concerned about spying an identical 550 J to their own, there’s a Bespoke program for even more alterations.

Photography courtesy of Hedley Studios and Porsche

Odds are good buyers will never see another 550 J parked next to theirs, though. Just 250 copies are planned worldwide, and while Hedley and Porsche don’t mention the price, Top Gear reports it starts at £69,500 (around $93,000) before any options or taxes.

Photography courtesy of Hedley Studios and Porsche

Learn more about the Porsche 550 J at 550j.com.

The charred cedar cladding on the Milo House, in Cornwall, Vermont, has been brushed once after its flame treatment, a step that softens the soot layer and exposes the grain still visible beneath the char. Architect Elizabeth Herrmann, of Elizabeth Herrmann Architecture + Design, chose the finish, called Gendai, from Nakamoto Forestry for a house conceived as a series of irregular, offset volumes rising through a dense stand of trees on a sloped hillside site.

Photography by Ryan Bent

Yakisugi is made from Japanese cedar, known as sugi, that is intensely flame-treated to improve durability, dimensional stability, and resistance to rot and pests. Herrmann has used Nakamoto Forestry’s cladding across her residential work, and for Milo House both she and the homeowners arrived at the material independently, early in the design process. The homeowners were after a low-maintenance, high-performance exterior, a goal the charred cedar met while also giving the house its bark-like surface.

Photography by Ryan Bent

Named for homeowners Nathan and Seth’s dog, Milo, the house occupies a site where orchards, woodland, and long mountain vistas shaped the design from the outset. The couple moved to Vermont from Boston, with Red House Building ultimately constructing the home.

Photography by Ryan Bent

“We were really interested in having the house feel natural, almost bark-like in tone and texture,” Herrmann says. “We love working with natural materials that have texture, patina, and depth of character.”

Photography by Ryan Bent

The home’s offset staggered forms respond directly to the site’s slope, its tree canopy, and long views west toward the Adirondacks. Rather than starting with a fixed floor plan, Herrmann let those conditions shape how the house unfolds across the site. The resulting spaces shift between more intimate rooms and cathedral-like interiors, with cross-ventilation incorporated throughout. The dark exterior recedes into the surrounding woods, while lighter interiors frame distant mountain views.

Photography by Ryan Bent

Inside, the dark exterior gives way to bright rooms filled with natural light, lighter wood finishes, and views framed through the trees. Lofted ceilings throughout the gathering spaces are paired with a wood acoustical treatment that softens sound within the tall rooms. For Herrmann, the contrast between the charred exterior and lighter interiors is accompanied by another consideration: how the material will change over time.

Photography by Ryan Bent

“With any natural material, there’s a conversation about how it will age,” Herrmann says. “The point of yakisugi isn’t for it to stay frozen in time. It’s a living material designed to evolve.”

Photography by Ryan Bent

Ask any music lover about vinyl, and they’ll likely point to the warmth and dynamic quality of its sound. Now ask any music lover who also appreciates beautiful design and craftsmanship, and they’ll add that vinyl demands a machine as beautiful as the sound it emits. San Diego–based record console maker Wrensilva has been working at that intersection since 2016, treating its audio systems as pieces of furniture as much as machines for playing music. With the release of the Studio in White Oak, Wrensilva brings one of its most requested finishes to its smallest console.

Photography courtesy of Wrensilva

The White Oak finish is a natural evolution of the Studio console, released earlier this year. Already available on The Standard and M1 designs, the White Oak variation is now available on Wrensliva’s most compact model. At 31 inches wide by 17 inches deep and 33 inches tall, the Studio is designed to fit into smaller spaces without sacrificing the all-in-one functionality of the larger consoles. Building on the success of the original model, the new White Oak finish offers a lighter, breezier take on The Studio’s timeless design and construction.

Photography courtesy of Wrensilva

“White Oak has always been one of our most requested woods by both interior designers and customers. We love working with it due to its durability and easy elegance,” says Debra Salyer, co-founder and head of design at Wrensilva. “It has a certain soothing quietness to the grain and wood tone; I find the combination of the oak with the natural colored speaker screens lends a nice earthiness to a variety of decor schemes ranging from contemporary to even rustic interiors.”

Photography courtesy of Wrensilva

Attention extends down to the grain itself: The wood is milled to favor rift-sawn and quarter-sawn patterns over cathedral graining, creating a cleaner, more contemporary appearance.

The White Oak is paired with natural speaker fabric and caramel leather pockets, then finished with a water-based topcoat. The front door, carved with an undulating pattern, adds depth and movement while subtly improving acoustic performance; behind it is storage for up to 40 albums. Lift the smoked acrylic lid to access the turntable deck, where warm backlighting illuminates the lid and signature brass Wrensilva brandmark.

Photography courtesy of Wrensilva

Wrensilva’s signature sound remains unchanged in the White Oak edition. Developed in collaboration with Manny Marroquin, Giles Martin, and friends from the music community, the Studio pairs a floating, under-platter, belt-driven turntable with solid-state electronics, a 100-watt-per-channel Class D amplifier, and custom two-way bass-reflex speakers. Premium details include a frosted acrylic platter, one-piece magnesium tonearm, and Ortofon 2M Red cartridge.

Despite its decidedly analog appearance, the Studio isn’t limited to records. Listeners can switch between vinyl, Bluetooth, auxiliary input, and optional Sonos multi-room audio, allowing the console to accommodate contemporary listening habits alongside a record collection.

Photography courtesy of Wrensilva

The Studio in White Oak is now available at wrensilva.com and select DWR studios, starting at $9,900.

For more than 60 years, Breakfast at Tiffany’s has linked Tiffany & Co. with the fantasy of breakfast on Fifth Avenue. Now, the jewelry house is bringing its own version of that experience to the West Coast.

Blue Box Café by Daniel Boulud has opened at South Coast Plaza in Costa Mesa, California, alongside a new Tiffany & Co. boutique. It marks the first California location for the dining concept, which also operates inside The Landmark, Tiffany’s Fifth Avenue flagship in New York City.

Photography courtesy of Tiffany & Co.

Unsurprisingly, Tiffany Blue is everywhere, but the interior resists simply bathing the restaurant in the signature hue. Instead, it moves between saturated aqua surfaces and quieter stretches of pale wood, silvery metal, and soft blue upholstery. Striped dining chairs introduce another familiar motif, with the interlocking T&C monogram running down their backs.

The most theatrical gesture happens overhead. Hundreds of Tiffany Blue boxes appear to tumble across the ceiling in a dense suspended installation, transforming one of the jewelry house’s most recognizable objects into a suspended sculptural installation. Below, the bar provides a weightier counterpoint, framed by dramatically veined blue-green stone and a terrazzo floor scattered with graphic motifs.

Art adds another layer of color throughout the dining room, while blue glass vases filled with hydrangeas extend the palette down to the tables. The cumulative effect is unmistakably Tiffany, but there’s enough variation in material, pattern, and tone to keep the brand’s signature color from doing all the work.

Photography courtesy of Tiffany & Co.

The menu carries Blue Box Café staples including Breakfast at Tiffany’s and Tea at Tiffany’s, while incorporating California ingredients such as organic flour from Petaluma County, apricots from the San Joaquin Valley, and dairy from Sonoma.

“The Blue Box Café celebrates the pleasure of coming together over beautiful food in a refined setting,” Boulud says. “At South Coast Plaza, we are excited to preserve the distinctive charm and elegance guests know from New York while creating a menu that reflects the freshness, seasonality, and vibrant culinary spirit of California.”

Together, the new boutique and café extend Tiffany’s retail experience beyond jewelry and into hospitality. In Costa Mesa, that means taking some of the house’s most recognizable signatures—the blue box, the color, the monogram, and the mythology of breakfast at Tiffany’s—and giving visitors a space where they can quite literally sit among them.

Blue Box Café by Daniel Boulud is now open at Tiffany & Co. at South Coast Plaza in Costa Mesa, California.

There is something about late summer that makes me want to gather people around a table. The days are long, and the garden is bursting with ripeness, from deep red tomatoes heavy on the vine to squash appearing faster than we can pick them. Produce is at its peak, and entertaining feels less like an undertaking than a celebration of what the season has given us.

Earlier this month, a dear friend celebrated a big birthday, and we gathered outdoors to celebrate. It struck me that there is a lovely parallel between reaching middle age and reaching the late-summer harvest. Both invite a moment of looking back and taking stock, not simply of what has been accomplished, but of what has grown. The friendships, memories, experiences, challenges, discoveries, and unexpected turns that accumulate over time become a kind of personal biodiversity: a rich ecosystem of influences and stories that makes a life distinctive.

The Curious Lives of Vegetables, by food journalist Ali Francis, with botanical illustrations by Adriana Picker, came out Sept. 15. If you enjoy digging deeper beyond the plate, this is a book to linger over. It is about vegetables, certainly, but also about the pleasure of looking more closely at the familiar.

Pages courtesy of Hardie Grant; illustrations by Adriana Picker

One thing I love about books like this is how they make the ordinary feel newly mysterious. Mark Kurlansky did something similar with Salt: A World History. Kurlansky revealed the extraordinary history of what’s inside that ubiquitous shaker found on every table, showing how deeply it has been entwined with trade, preservation, politics, power, and civilization. Francis takes a similar approach to the vegetables we think we know.

At first glance, our food choices seem more abundant than ever. We can eat sushi almost anywhere in the world and buy a tomato or strawberry in the middle of winter. Yet beneath that abundance is a surprising narrowing of what we grow and eat. More than 90% of the crop varieties documented in the early 20th century are no longer readily available, along with much of the genetic diversity those varieties represented. Of the tens of thousands of edible plants that exist, we rely on remarkably few. Three crops (rice, maize, and wheat) alone provide roughly 60% of the world’s plant-driven calories. It is a strange contradiction: More choice at the market, perhaps, but less diversity in the field.

Pages courtesy of Hardie Grant; illustrations by Adriana Picker

That is where The Curious Lives of Vegetables becomes especially compelling. Francis profiles more than 125 vegetables, many of which are rare, heirloom, or overlooked varieties. She follows their stories through culture, science, migration, agriculture, and changing tastes. We think we know a tomato. Then we learn its story. We think we know a carrot. Then we begin to consider its evolution, its varieties, and the choices that determined which carrots became commonplace while others nearly disappeared.

Vegetables are not merely ingredients. They record human movement and ingenuity, hold cultural memory, reflect biodiversity, and participate in an enormous food system. A vegetable can be something we cook for dinner and, at the same time, a window into centuries of cultivation and cultural exchange.

Pages courtesy of Hardie Grant; illustrations by Adriana Picker

Picker’s botanical illustrations deepen the reading experience, giving these edible plants the attention they deserve and honoring each with the intimacy of a portrait rather than the clinical precision of a diagram.

The more we understand the history of our food, the harder it becomes to take its abundance for granted. Biodiversity is not an abstract environmental concern; it is sitting on our plates. Preserving heirloom and unusual varieties is about more than having something unexpected to cook for dinner. It is about maintaining genetic diversity, preserving cultural knowledge, and keeping possibilities alive for the future.

Pages courtesy of Hardie Grant; illustrations by Adriana Picker

This idea has taken on a particularly entertaining form in my own household. My life partner, a middle-aged skater punk who once seemed far more likely to flip through the latest issue of Thrasher or dig through a box of LPs at a flea market, has now reached his Seed Savers catalog phase. The rebellious energy is still there, but it is now directed toward obscure varieties of peppers and preserving native plant life.

For millennia, the simple act of saving a seed from harvest to replant in the spring was the bedrock of human survival. Over the past century, changes in agriculture, seed ownership, and intellectual-property law have made the question of who can save, share, and grow certain seeds increasingly complicated. So now there is something almost radical about the simple act of saving a seed: keeping a little piece of one season to begin the next. In fact, in the state of Maine, that idea became constitutional law in 2021, when voters approved a “Right to Food” amendment that includes the right to save and exchange seeds.

Pages courtesy of Hardie Grant; illustrations by Adriana Picker

The Curious Lives of Vegetables is as much a book about the future as the past. It asks us to pay attention to what we grow, what we eat, what we preserve, and what we might otherwise allow to disappear. It reminds us that the foods we consider ordinary are often the result of extraordinary journeys.

Which brings me back to my friend’s milestone birthday. Like the vegetables in this book, we become more interesting when we understand our histories. What looks, from a distance, like a finished thing is really the accumulation of countless seasons: what was planted, what flourished, what was neglected, what was lost, and what was carried forward.

And perhaps that is what I love most about this particular turn in the year. The end of summer is not really an ending. It is a pause between seasons, a reminder that some things are meant to be enjoyed now, some preserved for later, and some saved as seeds for whatever comes next.

Published by Hardie Grant, The Curious Lives of Vegetables: An Artful Exploration of the Wonderful World of Edible Plants, Their History, and Their Crucial Role in Our Future is available now.

Over the past couple of years, a fresh spatial typology has moved into the mainstream: the high-touch, high-fidelity listening room. Once the domain of niche audiophiles and dedicated hi-fi spaces, these carefully styled and technically optimized environments have evolved into refined public and semi-private sanctuaries, including showroom setups, penthouses, and hospitality and wellness spaces. Drawing in part from the much older tradition of Japanese jazz kissa, today’s listening rooms are finding new relevance as designers rethink where—and how—we gather around music.

That resurgence arrives amid a broader shift in social habits. Younger adults are drinking less than they did in previous decades, while interest in more intentional gathering experiences has grown. Listening rooms offer one alternative to the conventional bar or club, providing a grounding space for the shared analog experience of focused listening.

Interior design is critical to these distinctive venues. Crafting a modern listening refuge requires more than just installing high-end turntables and vintage speakers—or brand-new ones, for that matter. It demands a seamless synthesis of acoustic engineering, lighting schemes, textural finishes, and spatial planning. By carefully controlling sound diffusion, muffling ambient noise, and modulating atmosphere, designers transform these environments into meditative cocoons where shared, focused appreciation can take center stage with little to no disruption.

From subtle, atmospheric illumination and bespoke seating to rich textural palettes and custom architectural woodwork, these details help shape the listening experience itself. And while each space approaches sound differently, the growing attention to acoustics here points to a broader focus on interior design. These considerations—especially acoustic attenuation—also matter in retail, hospitality, workspaces, and other interiors where traditional categories increasingly blur.

5 Spaces With a Design Focus on Sound

Photography by Connor Rancan

SILENT MATTERS by SILENCE PLEASE

Lower Manhattan, New York City

Situated amid the relentless kinetic energy of Lower Manhattan, SILENT MATTERS by creative studio and speaker brand SILENCE PLEASE shapes urban acoustic design through a lens of quiet minimalism. Designed as a haven from the sensory overload outside, the space uses hidden, high-performance acoustic paneling seamlessly integrated behind textured, cream-toned plaster walls. Intimate, low-wattage ambient lighting casts soft gradients across warm, tactile upholstery and oiled timber flooring. The layout encourages intimate conversation and deep listening, with low-slung, custom lounge seating arranged around an ultra-crisp custom sound system.

Photography courtesy of Stylus

Stylus by O’Neill Rose Architects

Lower East Side, New York City

On New York’s Lower East Side, O’Neill Rose Architects is set to wrap Stylus—a dynamic multi-level music lounge—in cantilevered, curved perforated aluminum panels, creating a dramatic, rhythmic exterior while ensuring fluid movement between distinct zones. Inside, the design team prioritized clever acoustic solutions from entry onward, incorporating an isolated reception buffer that contains ambient noise. Within earshot of the bustling nightlife pocket of Dimes Square, the project is bringing together a star-studded lineup of collaborators: Devon Turnbull of OJAS is developing a custom analog sound system; Amadeus Acoustics is developing its spatial audio system; Criterion Acoustics and Bourdeau Acoustical Design are consulting on acoustics; and Dutch artist Sabine Marcelis is contributing a selector station and several custom resin pieces. Selene Privitera and Paolo Matera are working with O’Neill Rose Architects on the interior. Together, they’re creating a sanctuary that balances bold architectural and sculptural expression with uncompromised listening. The complex is scheduled to open later this year.

Photography courtesy of ECHO

ECHO Listening Bar by Paul Cournet / Jeff Hogendijk & Khalil Ryahi

Rotterdam, the Netherlands

Embodying a sophisticated Dutch design ethos, ECHO Listening Bar in Rotterdam—co-conceived by architect Paul Cournet alongside sound curators Jeff Hogendijk and Khalil Ryahi—marries raw industrial materials with acoustic warmth. The space features exposed poured concrete structures paired with acoustic cork walls and brushed aluminum fixtures. Custom-designed timber speaker cabinets are integrated directly into the architecture, doubling as room dividers that help guide visitor circulation. Vibrant yet muted color accents break up the raw material palette, while tactile wool upholstery softens sound within the space. ECHO presents an understated, industrial-chic sanctuary—reflecting the port city’s experimental spirit and reputation as an architectural test bed—where spatial flow and high-fidelity sound align.

Photography courtesy of Pembrooke & Ives

Music Row Penthouse Listening Room by Pembrooke & Ives

Nashville, Tennessee

Translating the public listening lounge trend into an elevated residential context, interior design firm Pembrooke & Ives created a state-of-the-art listening room inside a Nashville Music Row penthouse. The location is fitting given the neighborhood’s historic connection to the music industry. Merging residential warmth with audiophile-grade technology, the room features rich walnut wall paneling with sculpted micro-perforations for acoustic absorption. Deep velvet banquettes, tailored leather armchairs, and bespoke silk carpets create an atmosphere of plush comfort. The high-end audio gear—including custom valve amplifiers and floor-standing audiophile speakers—is elegantly integrated into custom cabinetry. The result demonstrates how a domestic interior can embrace high-fidelity sound without compromising either advanced technology or bespoke craft.

Photography by Piergiorgio Sorgetti

La Boiserie for Modern Listening by David/Nicolas

Milan, Italy

In Milan, acclaimed design duo David/Nicolas offers a retro-futuristic interpretation of sound design with La Boiserie for Modern Listening. Riffing on traditional French wood cladding, the designers engineered the custom geometric shelving system to accommodate a variety of attachments. As shown in their residential-style office, the storage unit can accommodate advanced sound gear while also attenuating sound. The intricate yet flexible woodwork motif modulates sound dispersion while adding striking visual interest. Rich Italian mid-century influences emerge through polished brass accents, deep jewel-toned velvet textiles, and curving spatial partitions. The modern yet entirely usable interior balances nostalgic aesthetic cues with contemporary acoustic technology, integrating state-of-the-art sound systems within sculpted timber walls.

American actress and comedian Chloe Fineman has loved interior design since she was a child. It started when her family hired an interior decorator (Steven Shubel) to bring French flair—including gold leaf accents and black-and-white pillows—to their California home.

“I spent a lot of time with him as a child,” Fineman says. “And my parents would always have us go antiquing. It’s just a love of beauty, really.”

Image courtesy of SURROUND Podcast Network

When Fineman sat down to talk with Jeremiah Brent, host of the Ideas of Order podcast, to discuss the pursuit of creativity and the meaning of home as an actor, several themes emerged: staying true to your roots (for Fineman, that means embracing her soulful Bay Area self), bicoastal living leading to dual identities (New York City vs. California), and designing your home to feel as special as a film set. The conversation is part of the latest episode of Ideas of Order, a California Closets podcast hosted on the SURROUND Podcast Network.

Image courtesy of SURROUND Podcast Network

Film and design are deeply intertwined for Fineman. Born into a family of painters, her creativity was always encouraged—whether she was playing flower fairies in the rose garden, spending summers at art camp, or scarf-dancing. Fineman even jokingly compares her family to the family in Wes Anderson’s Royal Tenenbaums (2001), with their unbridled creativity. At home, her family’s French-inspired home often felt to Fineman like a movie set.

“One of the many joys of movies and TV is that feeling of wanting to live in those spaces,” she says. “The first time my boyfriend came to my [apartment], I was living in Silver Lake, and he was like, ‘This looks like an HBO set of a girl comedy.’”

Image courtesy of SURROUND Podcast Network

But design is also rooted in place. The Saturday Night Live actor’s design sensibilities fluctuate between New York City and California, and the versions of herself tied to each place.

New York City is magnetic and bold. Fineman tells Brent: “We had Colman Domingo host [SNL] this year, and he said my favorite thing I’ve ever heard, which is, ‘Living in New York is living on a dare,’ where it’s like, ‘I dare you to have rats. I dare you to wait in line for 45 minutes.’ You really have to love it [to live here], and I just loved New York immediately.”

Image courtesy of SURROUND Podcast Network

On the other hand, California is slow-moving and serene. Fineman is a California girl at heart. So for now, her design sense remains bicoastal. “When fanciful and laid-back come together, it’s very chic,” she notes.

Listen to Chloe Fineman and Jeremiah Brent’s full conversation—including a discussion of their shared love of set design, such as the iconic Victorian house featured in Practical Magic (1998) and Fineman’s comedic craft and creative process.

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Ideas of Order, the California Closets podcast, is produced by Rob Schulte at SANDOW DESIGN GROUP and is part of the SURROUND Podcast Network.

Discover more shows from SURROUND at surroundpodcasts.com.

Featuring restrained grids, playful motifs, and decorative edges, the new rug collection from Patty Studios comes in a variety of styles, all with one thing in common: elegant sophistication. Inspired by the wild gardens and architecture of the South of France, the six designs translate those influences into pattern and color.

Puff rug. Photography courtesy of Patty Studios.

The collection is the debut from Patty Studios, a Portland-based rug brand founded by Candace Cohu, Ally Hasche, and Max Pluenneke. Cohu and Hasche, founders of interior design firm Pat Austin Studio, had long wanted to collaborate with Pluenneke, who grew up in the rug business, cleaning and repairing rugs at his family’s gallery before studying graphic design.

Elysium rug. Photography courtesy of Patty Studios.

Together, the trio created Patty as an outlet for considered furnishings and accessories that could live within their interior projects and beyond. The rugs come in numerous colorways and are made from Himalayan wool and Chinese silk in varying proportions on a cotton foundation.

Puff Silky rug. Photography by Spartan Shop.

“It is important for us to use the highest quality materials that would last a long time, while also having minimal ecological impact on the environment,” Pluenneke says. Handmade in Nepal, the rugs use what the studio describes as “sustainable earth-derived yarns” that are never exposed to harmful chemicals during production and are biodegradable at the end of their generations-long lifetime.

Elysium rug. Photography courtesy of Patty Studios.

The designs themselves have an heirloom quality. The Elysium rug features a relief pattern of florals in colorways that range from “a morning meadow to a nighttime oasis.”

Labelle rug. Photography courtesy of Patty Studios.

Labelle has an undulating border reminiscent of crimped pie edges, though the designers say it is “drawn from the génoise rooflines of the Côte d’Azur.”

Puff Silky rug. Photography courtesy of Patty Studios.

Meanwhile, Puff and Puff Silky are both low-pile grids: the former evokes “the limestone tiles of coastal France,” and the latter translates “rain-slick cobblestone into a sumptuous grid.”

Rue rug. Photography courtesy of Patty Studios.

Rue’s pattern turns architectural forms into a repeating geometric pattern, capturing what the studio calls “the charming vim of a village street.”

When You Were Tulip rug. Photography courtesy of Patty Studios.

And When You Were a Tulip combines geometric, organic, and floral motifs in a whimsical tapestry that still feels measured and refined.

Puff rug. Photography courtesy of Patty Studios.

All six designs are made to order, with pricing available by the square foot upon request through pattystudios.com.

New Yorkers are no strangers to camping, with myriad options in the Catskills and Adirondacks, and music-forward retreats upstate making the culture even more expansive and accessible for hardcore urbanites. Since 2018, Collective Retreats has offered an even closer option: a seasonal six-acre glamping site on Governors Island, just eight minutes by ferry from Lower Manhattan. But this year, there’s a new sheriff in town: The Urban Cowboy Tent.

Photography by Ben Fitchett

Waking up in the 325-square-foot tent, clad in red Pendleton textiles and El Paso Saddle Blanket rugs, guests step outside to framed views of the Statue of Liberty rising over the water.

Photography by Ben Fitchett

The cowboy quarters—designed by Lyon Porter, Urban Cowboy co-founder and creative director of Cowboy Creative—house a lovingly curated collection of custom and vintage furnishings, including antique artwork, repurposed boat oars, and a vintage radio. Sourced from places like Beacon Flea Market and Elephant Trunk, these found objects give the new tent the impression of a long and storied life. Kevin Jacob Design created additional custom elements, including hand-painted stencil work, signage, and mounted deer antlers.

Photography by Ben Fitchett

Despite the cowboy aesthetic, the experience is thoroughly modern: The tent is equipped with an HVAC unit for warm days and cool nights, as well as an ensuite bathroom with a generous standing shower, large mirror, and toilet. The standout feature, though, is the patinated cast-iron tub, plumbed with on-site hot water and angled toward sunset views over the harbor.

“One of my favorite found objects is the French cast-iron tub,” Porter says. “An antique tub like this can typically cost around $11,000, but we found one for $400 that was just sitting in a Connecticut mansion’s yard. It weighs about 500 pounds and has this naturally rusted patina on the exterior with white porcelain inside. Those kinds of unexpected finds are what give the spaces their character.”

Photography by Ben Fitchett

The tent also continues Porter’s relationship with Dovetail + Co., the hospitality group behind Collective Retreats. In 2020, the two companies opened Urban Cowboy Lodge in the Catskills, which has been an upstate go-to ever since.

With the newest location, Porter positions Urban Cowboy’s maximalist aesthetic as an enveloping, tactile alternative to screen time. “An authentic Urban Cowboy experience is … meant to be transportive,” he says. Despite being a stone’s throw from the city, the space’s whimsy helps guests feel worlds away.

Photography by Ben Fitchett

Available through the end of November 2026, reservations for the Urban Cowboy Tent on Governors Island are available at collectiverestreats.com.