Once upon a time, long, long ago and far away in a city called Paris, a child was allowed by her mother to choose her wall’s wallpaper, her floor’s rug and one piece of furniture from a move we had made from London a few weeks before. I chose a small -print raspberry Laura Ashley paper in maroon, not red, because the maroon would go with the soft oatmeal beige of the wall to wall wool carpet. To pull it altogether I chose a family heirloom, a turn of the century painted desk from Norway. It was the only room in the house that had a balcony, a large one where mom grew geraniums and I grew strawberries. The room was tucked under a zinc roof that warmed in the summer sun. I stayed in that room as if it were a world unto itself. It had a small bathroom and the walls were hand-painted with soft blue trompe-l’œil clouds. I even had a mantlepiece. It bookended the room with my burgundy and blue desk on the other side of the room, my single bed between the two portes-fenêtres . Pine Habitat bookshelves flanked the condemned fireplace and were full of books. Back in those days we read at least a hundred in school and forty for fun each year. I lived there for nine years, from precocious child to clueless teenager. Never would I imagine that being offered the opportunity to feather my nest and create a cocoon unique to me would start a lifelong quest to find peace at home through design. Find harmony. Find safety. Find love.
It was through this lens that Papermill Safari, the concept that led the design of our home, captured so many illustrious publications worldwide. Throughout the next weeks and months, I will try and diffuse and disseminate all the kind and wonderful words this home garnered. I am beyond thankful to Karine Monié who was relentless in championing this project and to AD Middle East for this honour, this life highlight. I am deeply moved. It is a bit of a shock. Thank you to those who have supported me in this lifelong pursuit of happiness.
-Sending all my love, Henrietta