One of my favorite things about big, old and preferably un-modernized houses are the bathrooms. They are so grand and spacious, and the fixtures to my eyes are really pieces of industrial sculpture.
We used to have a kitchen in Tuxedo Park with floor to ceiling “subway” tile walls, varnished oak cabinets with glass front doors, and a gigantic black stove with a black metal hood. It was wonderful, and it was the first thing our otherwise thoughtful and charming landlords ripped out when they returned from Paris. Happily, I’ve got pretty much the same thing, still intact, at Daheim. How could anyone not love this kitchen?
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