Designer: Piet Boon

“Don’t build anything that you cannot design brilliantly; don’t design anything you can’t build. Believe in your own handwriting.” -- Piet Boon

Dutch furniture and interior designer, Piet Boon, is involved in every aspect of the design process. This is his design philosophy which functions as the catalyst and infiltrates all of his creations. He believes design must be well thought out. This is one reason why I love his work. As a trained designer, I have worked for a few designers who didn’t think the process through from concept to completion, and thereafter: What is the intension? What is the problem to be solved? Will the object work within the space? Will the materials hold up to the purpose?

Design does not simply mean “fashionable”, “chic” or “up-to-date”. Design is to be utilized. It is about the study of people and their environments. We exist in our environments; we need and use the objects within them. Design is about the relationship between people, their objects, and the space in which exist.

Piet Boon began his career as a building contractor and in 1982 established Piet Boon Studio just outside of Amsterdam. He teams with his wife, Karin, to run a design studio -- they have a team of architects and designers. Some of his latest projects include Delano Hotel in Las Vegas, and a hotel on St Barth.

He uses natural materials, sturdy design and durable products. He believes design must be timeless and last. I have a tendency to study designer’s furniture creations. Closely. Some of my favorites:

'Heit' Swivel Chair

'Kaat' Tables

But one design that has really caught my eye is his 'Hot Kroon' chandelier.

Creepy and unsettling.

But utterly fantastic!

Available in a 5-arm or 18-arm chandelier, black or white, the fixtures are covered with polyurethane. Each one is hand created and each one is different.



An action or a movement caught in a moment and suspended in time.

Rendering of Hof Van Saksen Restaurant

Hof Van Saksen Restaurant with the 'Hot Kroon' chandeliers.

Visit his site HERE. If you are drawn to his work, you will be memorized.


Top image title page of his most recent book from Amazon, the art work, I believe is by Rachel Lee Hovnanian, portrait photo from Nilson Beds, all remaining photos from his website, (two interiors of a NYC residence on 5th Ave).

Alpine Chic

Does anyone recall the opening scene of Charade (1963) with Audrey Hepburn dressed impeccably Alpine-chic in Givenchy? What happened to that stylish mountain look surrounded by the modish interiors?

When we think of Mountain interiors, we don’t tend to think of chic. Most mountain retreats have the super 70s look with knotty pine lined interiors and furnishings that haven’t changed since then, including the gold and orange towels hanging in the bathrooms.

Then my mind wanders to Suzy Chaffee of the late 70’s, the Olympic skier who caused a national sensation as “Suzy Chapstick,” as she ski danced in the popular Chapstick® lip balm commercials.

Settee available at Daniel Barney antiques in NYC.

If updated, the furniture in mountain retreats is overstuffed with lots of fur pelts and horn furniture. I am not sure how I feel about horn furnishings. I’m fond of drinking wine in high altitudes, so I fear the heel of my shoe would clumsily snag on the shag rug and I would fall and poke an eye out on one of the horns.

Today’s television shows and movies reference most alpine homes as small cabins on the brink of collapse with two characters trapped inside as the result of an avalanche. Or they feature an old military vet with a Grizzly Adams beard making a soup of tree bark and roots. Most alpine structures are used to escape the harsh weather and/or to hide because Big Foot is outside. I can't think of a film that shows the opulent interiors of some place nestled in the mountains of Colorado. Somehow scenes always have to involve girls similar to the inebriated cast of "Girls Gone Wild" bouncing around in hot tubs. If we go back in time to 1984, Hot Dog: The Movie had scenes of hot tubs, wet T-shirt contests (I can barely type that without vomiting) and the typecast character of the wealthy older woman seducing a younger naive man. Not much has changed in over two decades.

The Overlook Hotel in the movie The Shining (1980) is creepy at the same time appealing with its stark lack of colors juxtaposed with the David Hicks-esque broad patterns on the carpet. If I remember, there are antler chandeliers somewhere in the hotel. Jack Nicholson’s character suffers from cabin fever in the mountains and goes on a murderous rampage. Sometimes, when you’re high up in the mountains with not much around, things do get a little… spooky.

Available at Ad Lib Antiques in Hudson, New York.

Antler chandeliers do not make me nervous. In fact, I’m a fan. But moving on…

There is a scene in Pillow Talk where Rock Hudson brings Doris Day to a lake house in the mountains. The house is pretty refined. Now we’re getting closer but we have had to go all the way back to 1959. You would think there would be dozens of scenes in movies that take place in front of a roaring fireplace with people sipping cognac and wearing the latest winter fashions.

The best one I can recall is the cantilevered house in North By Northwest. The interiors are fantastic. (I can't find a picture...)

So what does everyone think? Do we stay with the same over sized leather furniture, knotty pine tables and scattered bronzed antelope candle holders as found in the book Mountain Style?

Do we Ralph Lauren it with the Black Mountain line from 2005 (I think)?

Or do we try something entirely new?

Why are we so interested?

Going to the Opera (depicting William Henry Vanderbilt family) by Seymour Guy, 1873.

Most people are curious about other people’s homes. What does the furniture look like in there? What do they have on the walls?

We can’t help ourselves. We’re just that way. Haven’t you gone out after dark to walk the dog and paused momentarily craning your neck to peek through people’s windows hoping to get a glimpse of the décor?

That kind of snooping is nothing new. It’s been going on for centuries. Well, at least since the 19th century with the advent of the Industrial Age.

The rise of the mercantile class brought with it both the urge and necessity to show off one’s new-found wealth; suddenly, people with pots of extra money were wondering what they were going to do with it. Flaunt it, of course, and what better way than to decorate the walls and floors of a brand-new house in that upscale neighborhood in the very latest fashion and décor?

How the new, moneyed housewife exhibited her possessions became a vital issue. It was no longer a routine matter of putting fresh thatching on the roof or sweeping the bare, packed-down earth floor every morning. A sturdy house with spacious rooms demanded an intriguing interface of furniture and color. A house was no longer just a structure to inhabit but an expression of the people who lived in there.

Above all, a stylish house was the earmark of a virtuous woman. If she had taste, knew how to mix colors, had a keen eye for the form and function of furniture knowing how to properly display the outward signs of new wealth, she was well on her way to providing a nourishing environment in which her family could thrive. If she was lacking these virtues, no amount of money could compensate for their absence.

Why is it that we yearn to glimpse into other people’s homes? What do they have that we don’t?

How our home looks offers an intimate peek at how we view ourselves. Do sprawling chunks of over-sized furniture indicate a demonstrative personality? Do small pieces tightly arrayed signal a cautious sensibility?

Design is a vital prerequisite of the cultural make-up of everyday life. Especially in a free-market society, it’s accessible to anyone who’s interested. Granted, some people have more innate flair for design than others – a good sense – and this can have a salutary effect when they exercise it.

Design is seductive. It can make us think we are something we really aren’t. It plays on our deepest fantasies. It give us the illusion that we are a lot more classy than we really are. After all, why do people retain the services of an interior designer?

One way out of the doldrums of an ordinary life is to live in a fashionable environment. Can’t we see ourselves properly sitting on that silk settee in those flattering photographs that adorn those slick interior design magazines? Isn’t that where we secretly want to belong?

These design magazines both fascinate and alienate. Their alluring images, in reality, may not promise an immediate transformation, but they can teach us how to imitate the look and make us feel we are at least getting a shot at a more glamorous life.