Design Trawler meets Tom Dixon

Well if it isn't the father of metallic hues and expensive trinkets made of copper and marble. Ever since Habitat's Head of Design left to set-up under his own name, Tom Dixon's influence has been commanding an ever increasing grip on interiors.
First there were the Beat lights that popped up everywhere from Sau Paulo to Shenzhen, followed by recherché curiosities like copper brogues and candles promising the scent of 'London' that Design Trawler first spotted at K11. Mr Porter's marble and brass spice grinder then followed, and who could forget the achingly charming wingback arm chair.

2014 is certainly Tom Dixon's year; what with his own corner at Harrods, the Modrian's first London hotel decked out in his maximalist style, a new range of suitably enigmatic candles [the scent of fire anyone?] and an engineering inspired range of desk accessories called 'cog'.
But will it be enough to put a smile on the face of the famously grumpy Dixon? Unlikely. The UK's answer to Philippe Starck and Marc Newson does a fine trade in celebrating Britain's status as the original designer of rainy drizzle, rush hour commuting, parking attendants and queueing. Don't be surprised if Tom Dixon's next range of candles are named accordingly.

Beosounds Like a Midlife Crisis

There aren't many objects that shout man cave Ultraloft as much as the Bang & Olufsen Beosound 9000 CD player. Designed almost 20 years ago in 1996 it's one of those iconic interior toys, alongside perhaps the Beocom 2 cordless telephone that's mandatory in Manhattan lofts, the penthouse apartments of television bad guys, and Hugh Grant types neck deep in a midlife crisis.

I'm not sure what that says about me. Perhaps, because the Beosound 9000 ceased production in 2011, that as a collector, I can claim that I've acquired a fully functioning design classic, and therefore eschew any mentions of crisis. Perhaps not. What is certain however, is that the machine is achingly beautiful.

From the motorised glass door, through to the illuminated CD clamp that zips up and down the brushed aluminium body; lifting CD's from their little mounts and returning them in the exact same orientation that they've been loaded. In this age of limitless music streaming, there is something overwhelmingly luxurious about physical movement; of only six disks; curated, and additive to the aesthetic of the machine, and the aesthetic of Ultraloft's flagship wall. Expect a red Porsche in the driveway very soon.

A Stove in Wolf's Clothing

Wolf & Subzero have always represented a design style of the hulking monolith variety. Gigantic stainless steel beasts that require weightlifter sorts to deliver [and weightlifter sorts to consume the farmyard of rib-eye that they invariably prepare]. Lightweight, they are not; by physicality, style or by price.

That said, this summer, dining at five storey Georgian townhouse on Fitzroy Square, I witnessed our chef masterly sear prime cuts of said bovine on the integrated charbroiler of the freestanding Wolf Range. This, I instantly thought, is a stove worthy of Ultraloft. Unfortunately for me however, it was also a stove that cost about the same as an Ultraloft.

The solution? This inexpensive retrofit cast iron griddle plate. It seamlessly sits atop of a standard gas stove gives an instant nod to the beast of Fitzroy Square.