A restored Connecticut farmhouse, decorated with pieces from all over the world
At first glance, this house behaves exactly as one might expect a Riverside home. The Connecticut neighbourhood, an hour from Manhattan, edged by the Mianus River and the Long Island Sound, is a place of winding streets, bicycle rides, yacht-club summers, and white-clapboard good manners. At the end of one such road stands a 1952 colonial farmhouse whose exterior keeps faithfully to the local vernacular. But step inside, and the map begins to widen. Swedish chairs meet Moorish inlay while an Indian dhurrie sits beneath modern art and English chintz, block prints and Uzbek ikat move from room to room without ever settling into a single accent.
When interior designer Christina Nielsen arrived, the 4,200-square-foot house was move-in ready, but had been extended so often that its original character had completely disappeared. Her first move was not to decorate, but to edit. Inappropriate millwork was removed, ebony floors substantially lightened, and new baseboards, crown mouldings and mantels introduced to return the rooms to their New England bones. ‘We sought to bring the house back to its roots,’ she says. Seven months later, it had regained its New England grammar, and was ready to speak in a broader vocabulary.
The owners, a young couple leaving Manhattan with two small daughters, wanted none of the austere coldness that can often accompany a newly renovated house. They entertain constantly and asked for rooms that could absorb the traffic of family life while still feeling collected. ‘I do not think there was a day that went by where we weren’t texting each other ideas,’ Christina recalls, which led to a day at the New York showrooms of Soane, Robert Kime and Bennison, pulling anything that caught their eye and really honing in on the textural identity of the home. Olive green, chocolate brown and aubergine became a loose route through the house.
‘My design process always begins with the colour palette and solidifying paint schemes, wallpaper and fabrics before moving on to lighting and furniture,’ Christina explains. ‘We tackled the creative process in those three phases. Once those initial schemes are settled on, everything else tends to naturally evolve.’
Upon entry, voices are low, allowing the living room to deliver the first full expression of the colour story. A vintage Indian dhurrie from Guinevere’s farewell sale anchors seating in olive, teal and cream, while painted and inlaid pieces complicate any easy reading of period or place. Christina calls it ‘an English approach to layering, and in my mind, that is a global mix’, further sharing that ‘it’s different cultures, time periods and provenances that make a house feel lived in and collected’.
Before this varied cast could find its rhythm, the architecture itself needed to do some of the heavier lifting. In keeping with the appetite for open-plan living, the previous owners had knocked the entrance hall and dining room into a single space. Christina argued for putting a wall back – not a solid barrier, but a glazed transom partition that divides the two without conceding a watt of daylight. ‘Everyone thought I was crazy at first,’ says Christina, ‘but it made such a difference to the house.’
The result became both the physical and narrative hinge of the home. Beyond it, restraint gives way to a more provocative sort of friction. ‘I wanted to shake up the formality of a Connecticut dining room,’ says the designer. ‘This is a young family, and I wanted their home to reflect that.’ After a little convincing, Antoinette Poisson’s Arpège took centre stage on the walls – a chocolate-brown geometric that reads almost as a woven texture against a bold chartreuse rug from Nordic Knots and curtains from Décors Barbares, trimmed with a copper glass-beaded border from Samuel & Sons. Gustavian chairs in Robert Kime’s Friston offer a cooler Swedish counterpoint. In the end, the room is assembled from distinct origins, with none asked to surrender its identity.
Christina is careful not to blur those distinctions into one homogeneous look, but instead lets each piece retain something of its original accent. Across the house, Swedish silhouettes sit beside Moorish inlay, Uzbek ikat and English chintz. Rather than operating as souvenirs or shorthand for a destination, each brings its own material language and history into the conversation. The designer’s ability to bring these elements together while preserving both whimsy and liveability makes each room feel so assured.
Case in point: the family room translates that energy into comfort. A creamy patterned wall sits behind deep upholstery and a pink ottoman – an intentional jolt inserted before the room could become too well-behaved. ‘I wanted to steer clear of the room feeling overly muted and neutral,’ Christina says. And, in the kitchen, provenance turns personal, as most of the eye-candy majolica plates climbing the wall are family heirlooms. ‘I love how the mix came together in a place where they spend so much time,’ she says, allowing them to appreciate pieces passed down every day.
In contrast, the smaller rooms were given license to shout. The powder room, for example, is wrapped from floor to ceiling in Soane’s dense red-and-ink Mazzolino, sharpened by burgundy high-gloss trim. A 19th-century Irish oval mirror and an 1890 Italian hurricane light introduce two more coordinates. ‘It feels like a jewel box,’ Christina says. Elsewhere, a lacquer-red bar and green-painted dressing room offer similarly concentrated flashes of colour – brief exclamation marks between the more measured spaces.
Upstairs, the volume tempers itself in the primary bedroom, where a cast of creams and greys are revealed beneath a softly draped canopy, conceived as a cloud-like retreat. Its adjoining dressing room returns pattern quietly, with soft-green millwork and a vintage Carlton Davidson flushmount. Colour rises again in the children’s rooms, where the same global instincts become a bit lighter on their feet. In the nursery, one of Christina's favourite Bennison wallpapers meets a richly painted continental armoire from The Flat – a pairing playful enough for a baby, but composed enough to grow up with her.
Ultimately, what connects the rooms is not colour or country, but the stories attached to their acquisition. Butterfly-and-shell domes are by Christina's friend at Studio Hasharat, while the faux-bois obelisks are by another dear friend Zac Zimmerman. ‘I tend to look for history or an interesting narrative behind something rather than an objectively beautiful thing,’ muses Christina. ‘I am all about the hunt – constantly looking for a one-off piece, whether it’s from a local dealer or overseas.’
Here, the global footprint is cumulative rather than themed, built object by object through origins that remain legible and stories that become part of the family’s own. ‘This home is such a personal narrative,’ she says, and the result belongs to no single spot on the map but rather, unmistakably, to one family.
Design credits:
Architecture: Thompson Raissis Architects (tr-architects.com)
Contractor: Prime Group LLC, Stamford, CT
Millwork: Thompson Raissis Architects and Alan Stolowitz of Thornwood Residential LLC
Decorative painting: Marek Murzinski
David Mitchell1/27In the entry, Farrow & Ball's 'Slipper Satin' on walls and trim keeps the entrance hall demure – a hush foil set against a lacquered console from The Lacquer Company, an antique Persian Malayer rug and a cane dog bed from The Flat in Robert Kime's 'Tsubaki.' Sconces are by Rose Uniacke, the umbrella stand from Paolo Moschino, the chair the owners' own.
David Mitchell2/27Limewashed walls in Domingue's 'Calcaire' and a Fibreworks sisal hold the living room steady while everything else dares to play. The mantel is custom by Alan Stolowitz with a stone surround from Dushi Marble & Granite, flanked by faux bois obelisks by Zac Zimmerman – a friend's work, which Christina builds into every project – and antique silver sconces from Jamb. The verdigris pendant is Jamb too, and the hand-woven dhurrie came from Guinevere Antiques' farewell sale.
David Mitchell3/27A custom banquette in George Spencer Designs' 'Spencer Velvet' in Teal, sourced through Claremont, carries a collision of cushions from Robert Kime, Soane and Yastif by Rifat Ozbek – no two from the same place, which was precisely the point. Above it, an Ilya Bolotowsky silkscreen from The Flat supplies the one hard geometry in a room otherwise given over to pattern.
David Mitchell4/27Comfort was the first instruction Nielsen was given, and the seating was the first thing settled. This sofa is custom in Rose Uniacke mohair velvet in 'Linden', and lumbar cushions in Fortuny's 'Tapa' in Aquamarine and Silver. Curtains in Soane's 'Coromandel Tulip' in Walnut and Neel hang from Morgik rods, the armchair is from The Flat in Robert Kime's 'Warwick Blue', the coffee table custom by Corbin Cruise.
David Mitchell5/27In the dining room, the owner had wanted a mural here originally, but Nielsen managed to persuade toward Antoinette Poisson's 'Arpège' instead, a chocolate-brown geometric set against a chartreuse Nordic Knots rug in Milano Green. Perhaps the boldest pairing in the house, and one that works only because the rooms on either side remain calm. Gustavian chairs from Jacqueline Adams Antiques in Robert Kime's 'Friston' give the cooler counterpoint, with curtains in Décors Barbares' 'Varykino' trimmed in Samuel & Sons, a console from The Antique & Artisan Gallery and a shell dome by Studio Hasharat.
David Mitchell6/27Where the previous owners had knocked two rooms into one, Christina put a wall back – a glazed transom partition that proves a triumph, dividing dining room from entrance hall without conceding a watt of daylight. ‘Everyone thought I was crazy at first,’ she says. The woodwork is Farrow & Ball's 'Broccoli Brown', the domes of butterflies by Studio Hasharat and the 1940s chandelier, attributed to Gustavo Pulitzer-Finali, from 8 Holland Street.
David Mitchell7/27This is where the family actually lives, and the only room where a colour was plotted rather than allowed to arrive. Sarah Vanrenen's 'Sunda Brown' wraps the walls; custom sofas in Rogers & Goffigon mohair velvet in Fig and armchairs in Soane's 'Corded Stripe Weave' in Olive gather round a hot-pink ottoman in Soane's 'Woven Symi Weave' in Amaranth, inserted before the room could become too well-behaved. The convex globe lantern is from Jamb, the Flemish tortoiseshell mirror from Guinevere Antiques.
David Mitchell8/27One corner where several countries converge: an armchair in Soane's 'Corded Stripe Weave' in Olive under a custom ikat throw in Robert Kime's ‘Andijan Black’ – named for a city in Uzbekistan's Fergana Valley – beside an armoire from The Flat holding the owners' own china and their inlaid table at left. The curtains are Lisa Fine's 'Calico Floral Stripe' in Coco Charcoal.
David Mitchell9/27In the kitchen, the millwork, in Farrow & Ball's 'Drop Cloth,' was chosen to shake hands with the creamy ground of the family-room paper next door – the two rooms run together and Christina wanted them to agree. Calacatta Vaggli from ABC Stone, a wicker pendant by Soane, glass pendants by Rose Uniacke, Armac Martin hardware and rush-seated chairs by Rachel Donath cushioned in Rogers & Goffigon's 'Homestead' in Peppercorn.
David Mitchell10/27The majolica is largely the owners' own, inherited and hung in the room the family passes through most, with a few plates Nielsen added along the way. Below it stands the project's single moment of doubt – a 1960s French oak table from RT Facts, in the manner of Charles Dudouyt, which suddenly read too heavy once the floors were lightened. The designer came close to stripping it, left it alone, and now counts it among the things giving the room its character.
David Mitchell11/27Glazed cabinetry in 'Drop Cloth' keeps the owners' china and glass on show rather than in storage, which is the whole argument of this kitchen. The Delft chargers alongside were sourced at The Flat.
David Mitchell12/27Small rooms, like the powder room, are where Nielsen likes to raise her design voice. Soane's 'Mazzolino' runs across walls and ceiling alike, sharpened by high-gloss Farrow & Ball 'Brinjal' trim, with a Waterworks washstand and fittings, a 19th-century Irish beaded oval mirror from RT Facts, Soane sconces and an embroidered ottoman by Genevieve Lavelle. 'I love bringing drama to smaller spaces, and that's where you can really take a risk,' she says. 'It feels like a jewel box.'
David Mitchell13/27The one room where the colour stops, is the primary bedroom and deliberately so. Walls and curtains are upholstered in Lisa Fine's 'Daphne' in Natural, with canopy panels in Rose Uniacke wool in Gypsum and a headboard in the same wool in Pearl – ‘A relaxing haven,’ as Nielsen puts it, ‘where they could really feel like they were in a cloud.’ The ebonised oval mirror is from RT Facts.
David Mitchell14/27A floral credenza from Avery & Dash does the work of keeping all that calm from tipping into blandness, holding the owners' own photograph and a vintage mercury lamp below a French nickel-plated pendant from de la Puente Antiques. The mantel is custom by Alan Stolowitz with a stone surround by Dushi Marble & Granite.
David Mitchell15/27A serpentine dresser from RT Facts, its wave-painted front the boldest gesture in a deliberately hushed room, with a Robert Bonfil table lamp from The Flat.
David Mitchell16/27If the first powder room shouts in red, this one answers in green. Robert Kime's 'Canut' wallpaper with Farrow & Ball 'Mahogany' trim, approached through panelling in 'De Nimes'. Regts Delft tiles sit behind a Water Monopoly basin, lit by hand-stitched vellum shades from RT Facts and an Italian painted iron and glass light from Carlton Davidson.
