Juliet Kinsman had a rodent problem: rats run wild in her north-west London neighbourhood; she once came across one tucking into the cheese and crackers she’d left out for lunch. The only solution, she was told, was to rip up the floorboards and fill the recess below with concrete. “We were quoted £10,000, so we thought we may as well spend a bit more and reconfigure the entire downstairs, which was dark and damp,” says Kinsman, founding editor of boutique hotel specialists Mr & Mrs Smith.
She approached an enthusiastic local studio, Rise Design, which did the lot: created a bright kitchen/dining room overlooking the garden; a book-lined, black-painted TV snug; a downstairs loo and shower room; and a revamped hall and front room. “Once we’d factored in fixtures and fittings, we ended up paying well over £100,000,” Kinsman says. “We’ve remortgaged up to our eyeballs, but it’s been worth it. We essentially have a new house.”
A gloomy alley running alongside the house has been incorporated into the kitchen-dining space, which is now encased in a glass wall and roof. The room has skylights farther back toward the house, and full-height glass patio doors: the result is a brighter north-facing room that blends seamlessly into the garden. “We always wanted a light, sociable kitchen,” Kinsman says, “and I wanted a sink that faced the garden, rather than a fence, to make washing up less miserable.” The polished-concrete floor has underfloor heating. “The warmth has transformed this cold side of the house,” Kinsman says. “There used to be a damp, arctic microclimate in our daughter Kitty’s room above, but that’s cosy now, too.”
The windowless, almost black snug is inspired by “dramatic, dark boutique-hotel lounges”, Kinsman says. “It used to be a dumping ground for toys.” Now, painted Farrow & Ball’s Black Blue with floor-to-ceiling book shelves – sandwiched between the kitchen space and the front room with sliding doors – it feels like a private cinema, she says. “Before, when we watched TV, we’d have eye contact with passers-by; this is much more private.”
The redesign has been a chance for Kinsman to steal design features picked up on her travels. One of her favourite hip hotels – bohemian Brody House in Budapest, where she got married – has filled its rough, whitewashed walls with vintage ephemera. “I’ve copied that in our tiny under-stairs loo; it’s like walking into an arty time capsule.” And in the kitchen space, an exposed brick wall, which mirrors the garden wall outside, is actually a cheat: thin slips shaved off the original London Stock bricks are glued on to a new concrete wall. “I grew up in New York,” Kinsman says, “and this has that NYC feel.”
A huge vintage fan – she used to host a local market, and has just set up Bouteco to steer people to sustainable boutique hotels – Kinsman brings back vintage objects, “memories”, from every trip. “I bought a yellow enamel jug from a flea market in Languedoc, and had to pay an oversized luggage penalty on Ryanair that was twice the cost of the jug.” She hired a van and drove to Sunbury Antiques Market (at Kempton Park racecourse in Middlesex) at 5am for secondhand pieces, returning with a mid-century Danish sofa (£200), six kitchen chairs (£30) and a 1930s easel for Kitty (£25).
Despite the cost, Kinsman has no regrets. “It’s lighter, more open and uplifting, and the whole downstairs flows better,” she says. “The space feels breezy and modern, rather than cramped and dark. The only problem is, we now hardly leave the house.”
House rules
Where did you grow up? I was born in Canada, and moved to Algiers when I was two. I don’t remember the house, but get nostalgic when I smell North African couscous. We moved to New York a few years later.
Pet interiors hate All-beige anonymous perfection and mass-produced, factory-made furniture.
Biggest extravagance Our porcelain worktop (from pentagontiles.com): you can place hot pans on it, or chop on it, and it won’t mark.
Favourite detail Our hallway shelf: it’s a curved stave from a beer barrel (from willesdensalvage.co.uk).
What went wrong? The builder put a couple of our hall tiles (from bertandmay.com) the wrong way round, but this quirk makes me smile now.
