Part of the conversation when we start working with new clients is to explain why a Johnny Grey kitchen isn’t just any old kitchen. Various adjectives (depending on which side of the Atlantic) can be used to describe our kitchens: high-end, custom, bespoke, top-of-the-line, premium, and of course, luxury. Luxury, in turn, comes with its own set of associations. One of our favorite approaches to luxury is “Rough Luxe,” a concept developed by designer Rabih Hage in his London hotel of the same name.

Our version of “Rough Luxe” uses design to hold together a series of very individual pieces of furniture, some of which are antiques, bric a brac and found pieces, combined with the application of principles based on neuroscience – you might call this instinct-based design. “Rough” in this context means a focus on texture, using solid, natural materials and finishes. Here you can see an example of a kitchen we designed for a family of six. They wanted something unostentatious that reflected their love of textures and colour.

The finishes in the cabinetry and furniture we used evoke texture and age. This is an example of how we celebrate wear and enjoyment of tear and embrace irregular and hand made imperfections in the construction of furniture and fittings.

The other component of “Rough Luxe” is of course luxury. Luxury means our bodies are quietly taken care of. In neuroscience terms, the design responds to our hard-wired needs. Elements of this include efficient but hidden ergonomics, long views, natural light and the relaxing effect of seeing nature and keeping in tune with the time of day. We also design to maximize ease of movement, ’soft geometry’ and other body support mechanisms like non-slip surfaces and worktops at the proper height.

Here you can see how we’ve applied some of these principles using freestanding furniture in the center of the kitchen.

The circular shape of the peninsula allows your body to move around without having to make sharp turns or walk at a specific angle to meet a straight line/edge. It also has no sharp corners so does not alert peripheral vision and its link with the brain’s fight and flight mechanism.

Finally, it’s also important that the space reflects the personalities of our clients. The incorporation of clutter and happiness-inducing objects allows one to feel at home. Here you can see how the client has used her own wallpaper and freestanding pieces and put her individual stamp upon the style and taste of the room.

I find it fascinating that New Urbanism has begun to flourish under these recessionary times. Is the American pedestrian really an oxymoron? The concepts of transit-oriented, sustainable, mixed-use developments and high-density, walkable neighborhoods all seem to make perfect sense in these days of credit freeze and high-energy costs. I hear the voices of Jane Jacobs and Kevin Lynch resonating through the halls of planning departments nationwide.

Healthy signs abound, yet we stand at ripe beginnings on this crusade against the giant stain of suburbia. Our recent graduates have been given the task of reshaping. We can only hope this mess is reversible. Both Yale and Harvard see the heroic opportunities here, sensing a historic moment to rethink urban strategies.

So what does this all mean to our ever-evolving kitchen? Returning to the ways of Main Street America will no doubt create a healthier, smarter, more sustainable kitchen in our homes. Without long commutes, families will have more time in the kitchen, both in the mornings and evenings.

More importantly, there will be time to actually prepare food, a task that has almost vanished from American culture in recent years. A ‘mixed-use’ living populace that lives in proximity to work does not have to buy in bulk, nor does it require a car. Hence, storage concerns in our kitchens will be revised.

There is also the belief that our active living footprints shall be reduced in size as we learn to grasp quality over quantity of space. Therein lies the importance of a skilled designer. Markets, supplying local produce, can once again thrive as a neighborhood beacon for sustainable communities. The integration of aging generations into future communities will also reshuffle the levels of interactions in the kitchen, allowing the oral tradition to seep through families on many levels.

Yet there is no wheel to reinvent here, the successful models have never left us. Ironically, as the Industrial Age drove a class out of their urban homes into the countryside, so will New Urbanism drive the boomers back into the diverse urban landscape they yearn for.  Perhaps this is the necessary transition that all Americans must now face.

Yet why does the media portray this as a ’sacrifice’ to common America? Surely we need to refocus our lens and make people aware of a quality of life that can literally exist around each and every corner.

Of course, if gas prices continue to rise, it may indeed be a forced revolution. Though utopian in spirit, I would prefer the voluntary to lead this pedestrian parade.

Wonderfully worn.

No, I’m not thinking of old clothes, or those Van Gogh boots that have become such old friends they can’t be thrown out. Instead, I was contemplating how narrow cobbled streets, wobbly medieval buildings, ancient cathedrals with worn away stone thresholds are gateways to a history more tangible than words in books.   

Antique furniture, old tools, hand-me-down toys, and objects from every oeuvre of domestic life resonate because they have a story to tell. Like a 3D painting of time and use, they are a record of personal history, through their self-evident wear, repair, abuse and care.

The current obsession of keeping things shiny new, with materials, like plastic coating, that don’t age and are hard to maintain when they fail, needs challenging. Expectation of maintenance means you keep an eye on furniture, respect windows and floors, encourage a relationship between the user and the artefact. Repairs contribute. The skill of hardworking hands and the receipt of handed-down practice add layers of history to the objects we use. 

It would be ideal to select materials for their ease to work, as well as their capacity to grow old with grace. Green thinking accepts ageing; natural materials do it better than man made. Unless things return to earth or degrade, then they can’t be recycled. They end up in landfills and deprive future generations of resources. Green thinking should embrace a philosophy of maintenance and celebrate the aesthetics of wear.

In Wahi-Sabi for Artists, Designers, Poets and Philosophers, Leonard Koren writes: ‘Things Wahi Sabi are expressions of time frozen and made of materials that are visibly vulnerable to the effects of weathering and human treatment. They record the sun, wind, rain, heat and cold in a language of discoloration, rust, tarnish, stain,warping, shrinking, shrivelling and cracking.’

How beautifully expressed and relevant to today’s fake consumerist values of obsolescence.