From the Agent: “This home sits on the edge of the renowned Kilcher Homestead and has been featured multiple times on Discovery Channel’s ‘The Last Frontier.’ The property features Thermador appliances, stunning views, artistic elements, and reclaimed wood throughout the residence. The home boasts a greenhouse made with recycled glass and two additional cabins.”
The remote property is a homesteader’s dream with three hand-built dwellings, a greenhouse, and nearly four acres of forested land.
Photo by Robert Winter with Grubstake Media
Photo by Robert Winter with Grubstake Media
In addition to the main house, the property includes a green house and two smaller cabins.
Dacoury Dahi Natche, who’s worked with artists like Kendrick Lamar, and local firm Shin Shin stripped dated finishes and added a recording studio to better mix work and home life—keeping an “amazing” view of the city.
In 2022, Dacoury Dahi Natche finally found what he was searching for. Home-wise, that is. “We were looking for a home in this area for a while,” says the DJ and music producer, who goes by Dahi, of Los Angeles’s View Park neighborhood, just south of Culver City. “I learned about it maybe ten years ago, and I just loved the architecture and styles of homes here.”
Dahi, who has collaborated with musical artists including Kendrick Lamar, Drake, and Big Sean, was craving a place where he could find a creative flow for his production work while still being under the same roof as his wife and two small children. After looking for six months in View Park, a historically Black neighborhood, Dahi came across a listing for a 1949 ranch-style residence that was less than thrilling at first glance. “The pictures looked terrible,” he says, laughing. “But the square footage looked good, the backyard had lots of space, and it had a basement where I could work from home.”
Before: Exterior
The 1949 home Dacoury Dahi Natche and his family purchased in L.A.’s View Park neighborhood is listed on the National Register of Historic Places for its exemplary ranch-style roofs.
Photo: Shin Shin
“The house was in pretty bad shape when we started,” says Dahi’s architect, Melissa Shin of local firm Shin Shin. Because the home was a masonry structure, Shin was limited in what she could change inside, and that it’s a historic property listed with the National Register also meant that the exterior facade needed to stay the same. “What we did seems like a light touch, but it was actually a pretty significant undertaking just to clean up the home and simplify some of the spaces,” she says.
After: Exterior
Its exterior profile stayed the same, but architect Melissa Shin added a fresh coat of paint and a new garage door, front door, and windows. “We went back and found the oldest picture of the house we could, which was from 2007, and tried to match that color,” she says.
Having seen multiple renovations over the years, the home had accumulated layers that Shin peeled back to the original masonry to reveal its “bones.” This included removing a suspended roof to open up a vaulted ceiling, and stripping faux stone, plaster, and a wall of mirrors that had been added in the living room. “The aesthetic had this feeling of trickery,” says Dahi of the outdated finishes. The black tiled flooring also needed to go, as it made the home feel much darker inside than it actually was.
Before: Living Room
The renovation sought to remove layers of faux and outdated finishes that had been added over the years.
In the news: Florida greenlights ADUs, a New York neighborhood’s feud with a local music venue, Dwell staffers report from Milan Design Week, and more.
The Florida Senate unanimously passed a bill allowing accessory dwelling units (ADUs) to be built to boost affordable housing in the state. It also adopted amendments to streamline tenant screening and block ADUs from being used as short-term rentals. (Orlando Business Journal)
Built as a tranquil retreat within NYC a century ago, Forest Hills Gardens is now caught in a battle over concerts at the revived Forest Hills Stadium, where noise violations, lawsuits, and dueling petitions are stirring resentment. Even as neighbors gripe, a last-minute deal with the NYPD means shows from Phish, Hozier, and more will go on—for now. (The New York Times)
Compass and other real estate brokerages have been listing homes privately, but now Zillow is clapping back. The company says it will ban any listings that have been privately marketed before hitting Multiple Listing Services, stepping up a fight over off-market real estate and attempting to force greater transparency in how homes are sold. (Yahoo)
Dwell’s visual media producer, Ian Zunt (left), and visuals editor, Alex Casto (right) check out Acquaforte’s concrete-and-steel lamps at Salone del Mobile.
Photo by Olga Mai
Porsche heir Wolfgang Porsche plans to build a private tunnel to his $9 million Salzburg villa, and many on the political left are crying foul as the city grapples with rising living costs. The countdown is on until the town council votes next month on whether to approve the tycoon’s controversial project. (The Wall Street Journal)
In a whirlwind eight-hour sprint through Milan Design Week, Dwell’s visual media producer, Ian Zunt, captured everything from cork-built lounges to reissued Ligne Roset classics, while Alex Casto, Dwell’s visuals editor, covered the revelatory edge of emerging designers at Alcova. Their hot takes sparked a heated debate over what truly stole the show at Salone. (Dwell)
Top image courtesy of Smith Collection/Gado/Getty Images.
Beginning in the ’90s, formerly rural regions transformed into far-flung enclaves for the elite, and vast acreages became utopias for the privileged family.
As a part of our 25th-anniversary celebration, we’re republishing formative magazine stories from before our website launched. This story previously appeared in Dwell’s January/February 2003 issue.
The exurban house is in.Or, rather, out. Far out, at road’s end, beyond freeway and subdivision. Neither rural nor suburban, exurban houses lie deep in the countryside, yet within striking distance of chic eats and leisure-time activities. Their extra-large lots, usually far in excess of two or three acres, encourage privacy, yet include chef’s kitchens and media rooms for entertaining. Enjoying the affluence of contemporary times, exurban residents strive for a pleasurable and provocative style of landscape living. Recent house designs by Northern California architects Fernau & Hartman and Stanley Saitowitz are typical of the exurban phenomenon, where the experience of setting is taken to the outer limits.
While exurban houses aim to dance with nature, their designers must contend with one of architecture’s oldest challenges: how to adapt a building to the different rhythms of nature and society.
For thousands of years, houses resembled their landscapes, but not out of aesthetic intent. Houses sprang out of the particularities of local agricultural tasks, building tradition, terrain, and climate. Their materials—be they wood or stone—came from nearby. Each design decision, from the thickness of walls to the pitch of a roof, was all part of a struggle for survival.
During the Renaissance, rising affluence allowed architects to subvert a house’s dependence on its natural setting. Beginning with Raphael and Palladio in the 16th century, the design of houses for the elite reveled in the strictness of geometry and the freedom of art. Designed landscapes began to resemble ideas and drawings, and emanated from a house’s straight lines and right angles. Eyes replaced hands as, for the elite, landscape became a field of viewing rather than sowing something to be gazed at musingly from a veranda. By the 20th century, as championed by architects like Mies van der Rohe and Le Corbusier, industrial materials—steel, reinforced concrete, and plate glass—further struck home the aesthetic (and technological) relationship between house and landscape.
As early as the 19th century, however, this aesthetic approach to the landscape provoked negative reactions. Certain architects, most notably those involved with the British Arts and Crafts movement, began to argue for a reintegration of domestic building with landscape, for houses that snugly settled into place. But as architects dove back into the intricacies and constraints of nature, the socioeconomic conditions of a working relationship between house and landscape were vanishing. During those same years of the industrial era, for the first time in human history, wilderness became attractive. Freed from the toil of the fields and the dangers of wild animals, people began to embrace long-feared feral lands. This love had less to do with an all-out immersion in wilderness than with a casual, predominantly visual appreciation of its striking attributes.
Perhaps it’s no wonder, then, that today’s houses designed for the countryside and wilderness—or, more realistically, exurbia—approach nature boldly. Nature is no longer something that needs to be contended with, as with agrarian building, or vanquished by pure artistic forms. These days, our world’s largely domesticated nature has become a flexible element in architecture’s arsenal.
Moore, Lyndon, Turnbull and Whittaker’s Condominium I (1965) at Sea Ranch, on the coast of Northern California, epitomizes the ways architects have embraced wild and agrarian landscapes only to squeeze out bold iterations of form and space. The unique appearance and site of the building—poised between abstract art and grainy vernacular, on a peaceful meadow above a rocky ocean cliff—struck a chord in people’s yearning for an alternative to city or suburb. Sea Ranch may very well have spawned the idea of exurban houses, spread over the landscape at low densities, like the working American farms of old, yet stamped with an aura of astonishing sensory experience.
To this day, exurban architecture flourishes, especially in California. In a series of houses completed over the past decade, Berkeley-based architects Richard Fernau and Laura Hartman have furthered domestic communion with landscape and continued traditions of San Francisco Bay Area architects from William Wurster to William Turnbull. While Fernau & Hartman’s preference for bright colors and angular projections might seem to be unrelated to site, almost all their decisions emerge from an inspection of landscape attuned to client desires. Generally, their houses are situated to maximize beautiful panoramas and minimize the visual intrusion of blight. For instance, at the von Stein residence (1992), in Sonoma County, California, the west side of the house becomes an opaque wall so as to close off the presence of neighbors and the afternoon sun. All the primary viewing corridors from rooms and terraces look out on the prized vineyards of the Valley of the Moon.
Photos from the collection of Craig Ellwood Archives / Special Collections College of Environmental Design Cal Poly Pomona, Wayne Andrews / Esto (Sea Ranch)
But exploiting stunning long-range views is only part of how Fernau & Hartman encourage a closer interaction between house and landscape. Reflecting the clients’ desire for outdoor living, site plans alternate interior rooms and exterior patios. The architects take full advantage of topography, and their houses seem to hop up hillsides or skip across the creases of valleys. The von Stein house, for instance, is organized around a central spine, which links a series of alternating indoor and outdoor rooms (including a tower) that step up the hillside. While encouraging al fresco dining, socializing, and contemplation, this division into discrete zones also separates public spaces, workspaces, and sleeping quarters. Exurban dwelling comes with social interaction—but only when you want it.
The encounters encouraged by Fernau & Hartman’s designs correspond with the sensory overload characteristic of contemporary life. Akin to the myriad channels offered by digital cable packages, these houses present a wide range of experiences, available at the turn of one’s eyes or a short walk down a flight of stairs. Encompassing extreme long shots as well as close-ups, panoramas of fields and ocean, brushings with stone and grass, the houses are like a cinematic lens for probing the landscape. But in this case the experience is all around, palpably local, and teeming with texture.
Although Stanley Saitowitz’s practice is based in San Francisco, his exurban houses don’t stem from the Bay Area tradition, but rather come from Southern California modernism, reaching from Richard Neutra to Craig Ellwood and the Case Study House movement. Influenced by the experiments of land artists like Michael Heizer, Saitowitz’s razor-sharp houses expand modernism into a geologic and topographic dimension, exposing the layers of landscape by building into, out of, and across them. At the Byron Meyer house (1990-2000), in Sonoma County, the design reshapes both its site and its inhabitants. A ravine separates the primary bedroom suite, atop a hill, from the main living area, on a separate promontory. The bridge that joins them, tartly expressed by red steel trusses, connects discrete realms of landscape and occupants.
Over the past couple of years, Saitowitz has embarked on an experiment that he calls the bar houses. The flat-roofed houses are built as thin glass-and-steel shafts, varying from 22 to 25 feet in thickness. This linear plan type allows Saitowitz to wrap each house into the landscape in a different way. Bars cross over each other at right angles, loop up in spirals, or crisscross to fashion internal courtyards. The twists and turns of the bar houses correspond largely to topographic conditions. And, as in most exurban houses, private and public spaces are separated from each other. In one of the bar houses, located in Marin County, the private zone sits directly atop the public zone. So far nothing new. But their separation is accentuated by the fact that windows on each floor open out in different directions. Above, the private rooms afford a medium-range view of the hillside; below, the living quarters tender long-range panoramas of the oak-studded hills. By closing off the opposing views from each zone with opaque walls, Saitowitz focuses public and private space as divergent landscape encounters.
As the bar houses snake and slither, going straight along, suddenly ramping up into a half circle, or crisply turning a 90-degree corner, they rearrange the state of affairs on the land. Describing the bar houses as ribbons or rulers, Saitowitz conceives of them as instruments for taking the measure of a landscape. In one sense, the bars continue landforms and vehicular routes, as earthen slopes become asphalt driveways, interior corridors, and eventually terraces outside bedrooms that look back at the land. But rather than imitating or continuing natural features, the bar houses often buck the current of their sites. They cut across the grain of land, much asthe San Francisco city grid reveals a precipitous topography by crashing into it. Saitowitz’s houses are sharpest when their artifice reveals the complex scope of landscape, when straight steel edges cut into the earth to uncover its ancient strata, or when rectangular pools of water float shifting pictures of structure, site, and sky. The bars might be described as stealth architecture, curiously probing at every detail of landscape, but skulking all the while. Because of the bar houses’ thinness and transparency, the landscape is often seen through them. Houses are more frames than forms.
As the different approaches of Fernau & Hartman and Stanley Saitowitz show, the exurban house gets its jolt from a confrontation with remote and amply sized landscapes. It is a restless refuge, at one moment curling residents into site and seconds later rocketing their eyes toward far horizons. Most exurban houses wear their design casually but those same houses also climb hillsides and ford uneven ridges. The experience for residents is a storm of sensations—intricate and scattered, restful and dramatic. And yet one of the casualties of the exurban house seems to be that worked zone of landscape emblematic of country houses of old: the garden. Nowadays, perimeters around exurban houses are blended in with the “wilds,” their artifice disguised to promote a pristine, almost primal engagement of occupant with landscape.
The exurban house follows a long tradition of wealthy people fleeing the ills of the city for the glories of the country. The chief difference today lies in the significantly larger number of people able to afford grandiose second or third homes. Many formerly rural regions of the country are becoming elite exurbs—like parts of California’s Marin, Napa, Sonoma, and Mendocino counties, but also Cape Cod, eastern Long Island, the Berkshires, areas around ski resorts throughout the Rocky Mountains, and long stretches of ocean and lake coastline. Hidden by the exurban house’s designed encounter with landscape is its dubious battle with the gray boundlessness of the metropolis. America’s economy of sprawl now spews forth estate escapes, vast acreages of land sequestered into private preserves, utopias of the privileged individual. Inviting the sounds and sights of nature, yet not of the public, the exurban house represents a mass movement of affluent Americans away from the mass culture they themselves produce and control.
Photos by Richard Barnes (top), Cesar Rubio (bottom); photo by Jason Schmidt (Byron Meyer); rendering courtesy Stanley Saitowitz / Natoma Architects
A New York City couple creates a breezy but bold gabled retreat in East Hampton.
In 2015, New York City resident Ed Fogarty came across an inspiring site in East Hampton, New York, adjacent to a 17-acre working horse farm—land that could never be developed. “You’re surrounded by clear blue sky and open spaces, with no other houses in sight,” says Ed. “It felt secluded in a way that was nice coming from the bustling city.”
Together with his partner Tim McMullan, Ed purchased the bucolic property—which, at the time, had a small house on it. “I always wanted to build a house, and when I found this property, I fell in love with the site—not necessarily the house,” says Ed. After the purchase, Ed and Tim decided to spend time in the existing home in order to experience the nuances of the site, and get a better idea of what they wanted in their new home. “I knew if I lived there through the four seasons for a couple of years, I would really come to understand how the winds blow, how the sun traverses the sky,” says Ed.
“The breezeway is covered, but it opens on one side to the driveway, and it’s completely open at the other end to the pool and the rest of the property,” says Workshop/APD associate principal Tyler Marshall of the new East Hampton home. “So you walk through and experience this incredible view.”
Photo by Read McKendree/JBSA
After a several-years-long residence in the modest, 700-square-foot home, a vision developed for what their new home might look like. “In terms of aesthetics, I’ve always wanted a black house,” says Ed, who also drew inspiration from the nearby Parrish Art Museum. “I had some ideas to start, but didn’t necessarily know how they would come to life. A connection with a longtime friend—Workshop/APD founding principal Matt Berman—would change that. “It wasn’t until Matt Berman came to the property that I was able to put that into the words,” says Ed. “We began talking about it, and the conversation began to spark ideas that felt right,” he recalls of those early discussions.
Upon entry, the view expands to highlight the pool, wildflower meadow, and surrounding vegetation.
Photo by Read McKendree/JBSA
The team quickly zeroed in on yakisugi to accomplish the desired rich exterior palette for the home, a material Ed had first encountered on a previous trip to Japan. “I was touring Kyoto with a local guide and saw it on a home,” Ed recalls. “I distinctly remember commenting that the wood looked burned, and the guide told me a bit about the process.” Known as shou sugi ban in the West, the term refers to Japanese cedar, or sugi, that is intensely burned as a preservative heat treatment. In addition to aesthetic appeal, yakisugi is durable, sustainable, and requires minimal upkeep—it can last as long as 80 to 150 years without maintenance.
When it came to building his own home stateside, careful research led Ed to Nakamoto Forestry. As the preeminent manufacturer of authentic yakisugi, Nakamoto Forestry is a family-owned and -operated company with control over the entire manufacturing process—from their sugi (Japanese cedar) forests in Hiroshima, which they’ve sustainably managed since the 1920s, to four family-owned mills that produce siding and flooring. Nakamoto Forestry honors Japanese tradition in their production of authentic yakisugi—while introducing new technologies and coatings which enhance the natural beauty and durability of the wood.
Yakisugi from Nakamoto Forestry was selected for the home’s exterior. Each of the Pika-Pika® boards used was graded by hand 11 times to ensure the highest quality.
Higher materials prices are expected to stall new construction homes and renovations, and make both more expensive for everyone.
After President Trump announced his tariffs plan on April 2, what he has deemed “Liberation Day,” only to follow up with a 90-day pause on the previously announced reciprocal tariffs (with exception to a 10 percent flat duty on all imported goods), the public is rightfully flummoxed about precisely what products are about to get more expensive. Homebuilders fall into this shaky boat: According to the National Association of Homebuilders (NAHB), nearly $14 billion of imported goods were used to construct new single- and multifamily residences across the country—accounting for seven percent of all required materials. Though there’s still much uncertainty about how tariffs will resume after the pause, reports nationwide have homebuilders of all sizes bracing for what could be a big setback to creating new homes and renovating others.
When it comes to home building, the industry isn’t a stranger to pricing changes to materials like softwood and steel, which were tariffed by Trump in his first term (and mostly maintained under the Biden administration). However, the U.S. Department of Commerce has stated that it plans to raise these tariffs again this year to more than 34 percent, which, says the Financial Times, includes new import and anti-dumping duties. It’s unknown when this plan will go into effect. And while Canada is also a major exporter of steel and aluminum, according to U.S. News & World Report, many of the materials used in U.S. housing construction come from China, currently subject to a whopping 145 percent tariff (which includes a 120 percent reciprocal tariff exempted from his April 9 pauses). This could cause material costs to soar to as much as $45 billion per year from today’s $4 billion expenditure.
Other materials, including gypsum for drywall, flooring, appliances, and HVAC systems are frequently made in and imported from Canada, China, and Mexico; in early April, the New York Times published example “line items” that account for both tariff costs and possible labor shortages resulting from large-scale migrant worker deportations. In their analysis, the costs for windows and doors would increase by 11 percent, roofing would increase by 21 percent, and drywall would increase by 22 percent—not including any cost increases to labor. U.S. News notes that suppliers and contractors may be able to source materials more cheaply by shopping from manufacturers in countries currently exempted from reciprocal tariffs, but “most homebuilders have developed relationships with companies and countries and can’t always make immediate changes.”
Yet immediate changes are coming from the top—policy shifts at the national level cause prices to fluctuate, which, as a story by the Pittsburgh Gazette explains, has strained some smaller suppliers and contractors. One Pennsylvania supplier who typically receives prices annually has begun to see them change almost daily; some manufacturers have paused pricing entirely, which can delay projects. This could mean that projects currently underway could see price hikes or pauses while manufacturers catch up or developers strategize how to recoup potential unanticipated costs.
For smaller remodeling projects, the NAHB reports that their 2025 first quarter Remodeling Market Index—a survey that asks builders to rate the remodeling market—dropped to its lowest level since 2020, “as some remodelers are reporting that uncertainty about tariffs and the direction of the economy are making customers hesitant to spend on larger projects,” says Nicole Goolsby, the remodelers chair for NAHB. Even larger homebuilders like Lennar were feeling “squeezed” as early as March and, according to Realtor.com, their market share dropped by four percent due to interest rates and a downturn in consumer confidence in the wake of international trade uncertainty.
This means consumers could see higher prices for new construction homes as well as for renovations to existing ones. Realtor.com notes that new homes account for less than 20 percent of the housing market, but that there are some states where construction is booming to meet demand: In Idaho, new construction makes up nearly 40 percent of the market, and in North Carolina and Delaware, new homes hover around 30 percent of the housing market. In these states, momentum toward meeting our current housing needs could be hit hard as the NAHB reports that a rise in material costs could raise new home construction costs by more than $9,000. As import duties are levied on individual materials themselves, the costs could be passed onto buyers, raising more questions about how trade policy will ultimately impact the housing crisis.
Original steel wrapping the ’60s structure in Kansas hides fresh pine interiors and energy-efficient features.
Houses We Love: Every day we feature a remarkable space submitted by our community of architects, designers, builders, and homeowners. Have one to share? Post it here.
From the Architect: “Located on a family farm, Overbrook Overlook transforms a 1960s barn into a residential cottage nestled into a rolling hill that overlooks the town of Overbrook, Kansas. Overbrook Overlook retains much of the weathered corrugated steel siding and roofing from the existing corn barn, establishing an intriguing contrast between the cottage’s rustic exterior and warm pine interior.High performance glazing envelopes the 480-square-foot space, bringing in generous daylight and connecting the cottage to its surrounding vistas and nature.
“Foam-in-place insulation and very efficient comfort systems will push the home toward net-zero energy once solar photovoltaics are installed.The cottage is designed with compactness and comfort, creatively providing a range of spaces including a kitchen, dining space, living area, and six sleeping spaces.The bathroom is finished with materials from Recycled Surfaces, a Kansas City organization that reuses landfill-destined materials to create renewable, high-performing surface products. Overbrook Overlook sits adjacent to the farm’s original land grant stone house built in 1860, which the owners have reconstructed as an ancillary historic structure and refer to as the Underlook.”
From the Agent:“A pinnacle of oceanfront living awaits in the coveted locale of Pacific City, designed by the esteemed architect Robert Harvey Oschatz. The home’s design, characterized by repeating 12-degree angles, creates a dynamic interplay of sunlight and space, casting playful rainbows throughout its rooms. Designed with hosting in mind, the residence features three main-level bedrooms for adults, while the lower level offers a dormitory-style playroom with bunk beds and a full bathroom. Seclusion and natural light were paramount in the design, achieved through strategic window placement and a grand expanse of clerestory glazing that bathes the interior in daylight while preserving privacy. Upon entry through a solid gate into a courtyard, the home unfolds to reveal an open family, living, and kitchen space, adorned with floor-to-ceiling glass windows that embrace panoramic ocean views. Custom touches abound, from bird’s-eye maple cabinets to rough-hewn granite countertops and a handblown jellyfish chandelier illuminating the dining area. Outdoor living is seamlessly integrated, offering sheltered spaces to enjoy the coastal panorama while being shielded from ocean winds.”
Robert Harvey Oschatz, known for his flowing style of organic architecture, attempted to integrate as much of the surrounding environment as much as possible.
The market for easy-to-clean rugs is booming, but how do they actually look (and feel)?
If there’s been any trend in rugs the past several years outside of checkerboard or Moroccan, it’s washable. Everyone with a dog, child, or tendency to spill red wine while gesturing too much during a dramatic episode of reality television wants a rug they can’t ruin.
First popularized by Ruggable a few years ago, washable rugs are flooding the market right now, but they also can get a bad rap; they’re often associated with cheaper, nonnatural materials, meaning that the very thing that makes them ideal also lowers their value. So I set out to test two from each side of the spectrum: those marketed toward people with children, and those aiming for a slightly higher-end design experience that just want something they know they can clean for sure in the future.
The Kid-Friendly Brand: Tumble
Tumble, a direct-to-consumer brand launched in 2021 by a consultant and a home furnishing executive, set up their company with the intent to fill holes left in the market by other washable rug companies. “After speaking with dozens of customers and analyzing thousands of reviews, we identified common pain points like insufficient cushioning, curling corners, and challenges in keeping the rugs flat,” the brand’s cofounders told Entrepreneur magazine. “Although many washable rugs were marketed as convenient, the reality often involved heavy furniture rearrangement, turning a simple task into a hassle. To address this, we not only focused on making our rugs stain-resistant but also prioritized developing safer, nontoxic materials and earning environmental certifications that ensure they’re safe for children and pets.” The rugs come in lots of different patterns, many of which mimic the lived-in, distressed, it’s-already-vintage style that is so popular these days, but are also abstract and geometric, largely in relatively muted colors.
Add an artful touch to your home with our hand painted Fez rug. Soft pastels set against a sandy colored ground bring fresh modern vibes to your space.
As noted on the brand’s FAQ page, Tumble rugs actually will fit in a home washing machine, while many washable rugs won’t. (This will come into play in my test later.) But because of all the problems the brand is trying to solve, itsrugs are a very specific type of product. While there’s a faux fur option, so far, the rest of the rugs Tumble sells are flat and untextured, relying more on pattern for design than texture. They also come with a padded mat underneath them, much like activity mats for children. In this way, though Tumble only launched a specific kids’ line last year, the rugs—regardless of which category they’re placed in on the website—are perfect for use in a nursery or playroom.
Which is exactly what I got mine for. The sample the company sent for me to test is essentially a really good-looking play mat—and I mean that as a compliment. I chose the Fez in 8 x 10’ for my daughter’s room, which retails for $389, and is 100 percent polyester, and soon it was on its way. The box it arrived in was big, and flat—it’s heavy, but we all know how rugs work. In this case, however, it’s not actually the rug itself that is heavy, but Tumble’s locking mats—which you can simply wipe down, should they need cleaning—that go below it.
The rug comes with clear instructions on how to put it together—the mat comprises puzzle pieces that must be placed in a specific order—and on how to affix it in the corners to keep it from moving further. True to their word, there is no slippage here. And though the website said it would fit under the clearance of most doors, we had to situate ours further into the room than I would have liked for now (the door is too low on its hinges, which we’ll adjust later).
Once you put furniture on top of your Tumble rug, there’s really no moving it, so though I can wash it in our washer, I can’t imagine wanting to move everything to get it up and then put it back in place. I accidentally stepped on it in muddy shoes though, and once the footprint dried, it vacuumed right up without a mark. Besides the keeping it clean aspect, the best part is how it is essentially a play mat that looks good—a challenge they’ve risen to meet for sure.
The Ones That Don’t Look Washable: Revival
Founded a few years before Tumble, Revival is another player in the DTC rug world, one that cuts down on costs by cutting out the middleman of wholesalers and retailers. It was founded by players from Brooklinen and Blueground, and while they sell many regular rugs, washable rugs soon became one of their offerings. “Something we hear from customers time and again is that they appreciate that our rugs are washable, but don’t look washable,” the company says on its website.
For our guest room, I wanted a substantial, adult rug, but one I knew I’d be able to clean, as it was in a high-traffic area. So I went with the graphic Taylor in Moss in an 8 x 10’, which the company describes as a “soft, high-pile washable wool rug” sourced from New Zealand and India. It sells for $749. It arrived rolled up, and was very heavy; the UPS person who delivered it actually came and checked that we were home before bringing it to the door.
A soft, high-pile washable wool rug. Please note: this piece is designed to be pliable so it more easily fits in a washing machine. As such, we *highly* recommend you pair it with a rug pad for stability, comfort, and longevity. Trust us-it’s worth it.
The Taylor, which is high-pile, feels great; exactly like any “normal” rug you’d find, and looks it too. There’s no interlocking rug puzzle piece set, and though they do recommend a rug pad for their washables because they are thinner than the regular ones to allow for pliability, though they’re not so thin you’d notice any difference as a non-rug expert. One thing to know is even though this rug can be put in a washing machine, that’s not a washing machine you’d (likely, I guess I don’t know your life) have at home. The size I got is large enough that I’ll need to take it to a commercial washer to get it cleaned because my washing machine at home won’t be able to handle it (specifically an 80-pound washer at minimum). One might think then: what’s the point? To me, it’s the flexibility to know it can be cleaned, even if it would be a bit of a hassle to do it, and that if you spot wash it, the fabric will be forgiving. So far it’s been holding up great to vacuuming, and hasn’t required even a spot treatment.
Though the brand notes that shedding can happen for the first several months (and a friend who actually got rid of a Revival rug had complained about this to me) I haven’t noticed it at all. In fact, nothing about the rug screams washable at all—which was exactly what I was going for.
Near Helsinki, expat designer Jussi-Pekka Kajaala and Olympic medalist Adam Rippon build a tiny summerhouse dedicated to Finland’s favorite pastime.
There’s a particular kind of longing that comes with living far from home—and for many expats, it’s important to find a way to stay connected to their culture. For Finnish entrepreneur Jussi-Pekka Kajaala—who founded design studio Super Finnish and is now based in Pasadena, California—that longing lingers in memories of his grandparents’ sauna: the scent of birch smoke, the rituals of sauna culture, and the space to slow down and disconnect from the world.
Before moving to the U.S., he wanted to build a place to evoke these memories, where he and his American husband—Olympic figure skating medalist Adam Rippon—could return to each year to reconnect with Finnish traditions, nature, family, and each other.
The house is about 520 square feet, and there’s a separate sauna building with a guest bedroom, which is under 200 square feet. The project cost just over $250K—about 5 percent under budget. “Sticking to the budget is one of my favorite challenges,” says Jussi-Pekka. “With my long history in real estate, I understand the importance of keeping costs low, even if I never plan to sell this house. You never know what life brings, and it’s always wise to build with future value in mind.”
Photo by Petri Hiltula
The answer lay in a modest prefab kit mökki (a Finnish summer cottage) with a separate wood-fired sauna, located in the countryside about an hour from Helsinki. Built with his father, the project is deeply personal. A tribute to Jussi-Pekka’s memories of home and love for traditional sauna culture, the retreat—which cost just over $250,000 to purchase and build—is where the couple spend four to six weeks each year, with hopes to one day spend entire summers.
The guest bedroom faces the sunrise, and the sauna is located to the left. A breezeway separates the two spaces, creating distinct functional zones.
Photo by Jussi-Pekka Kajaala
“Our mökki is our own little piece of beautiful Finland,” says Jussi-Pekka. “I always thought having a house in Finland would be important, but living in the U.S. has made me realize just how much it truly means to me. It’s perfect for bringing everyone together. Our little, secret hideaway home is where time stops and worries disappear.”
$22,464 Land
$1,080 Ground Survey
$21,534 Ground Building
$8,208 Foundation
$26,568 Structural Sauna Building
$44,280 Structural Main House
$21,600 Log House Assembly
$2,631 Flooring
$6,958 Plumbing
$16,837 Electrical
$864 Paint
$1,080 Ceiling
$3,583 Fireplace & Chimney
$2,106 Air-Source Heat Pump
$1,938 Sauna Stove & Chimney
$324 Sauna Benches
$1,296 Fireplace & Sauna Stove Installation
$734 Water Heater
$5,626 Waste Water System
$4,717 Well
$6,373 Kitchen
$2,700 Countertops
$3,451 Appliances
$2,721 Bathroom Furniture
$1,991 Bathroom Tiles
$1,359 Bathroom Tiling
$864 Lighting
$921 Walk-In Closet Cabinetry
$1,674 Interior Doors
$5,400 Furnishings & Decor
$1,751 Permits
$9,304 General Contractor
$1,348 Electrical & Plumbing Plans
$502 Landscaping
$1,080 Waste Recycling
$8,640 Patios
$2,075 Shipping Container Storage
$10,800 Misc (“this & that”)
Grand Total: $257,390
Returning to My Roots
Jussi-Pekka Kajaala: I live in the U.S. now with my husband, but I wanted a place in Finland to return to every year—a place that felt like home. Building this house and sauna was my way of holding on to my heritage. I grew up immersed in construction, as my family has always worked in the industry. I started flipping apartments in my twenties, and I loved the process of renovation. But this was the first time I built something entirely from the ground up.
A view of the sauna and guest bedroom from the field. “The moss on the bedrock is protected, and the bedrock is surrounded by natural meadows,” says Jussi-Pekka. “Butterflies, insects, and wild animals thrive here, with many deer frequenting the area.”
