We’re very fond of your impeccable style here at STARK. How would you describe your unique approach?

Thank you! That’s a generous sentiment, and it means a lot coming from STARK. I’d say my approach is rooted in emotional clarity and curatorial precision. I like spaces that feel grounded and layered, with meaning behind every choice. There’s a strong architectural foundation in my work, but also a belief in narrative, in allowing a room to unfold slowly, to tell a story through material, form and function. Nothing should feel overly designed, but rather intentionally composed.

What was your path into the design world and your strongest influences?

I always majored in art and initially imagined a career as either an artist or a fashion stylist. I went on to study business and marketing at university, with fashion design firmly in my sights. But over time, I found myself drawn more deeply into interiors, where creativity, storytelling and function come together in a way that truly resonated with me.

Looking back, the path into design feels almost inevitable. My father was a developer and an importer-exporter of Italian furniture, and our family owned an antique store filled with curiosities. I grew up surrounded by beautiful, unusual objects and an appreciation for both craftsmanship and character. On my father’s side, both my grandfather and great-grandfather worked in construction, so the built environment was always a part of family life. Design, in many forms, was in my blood.

I spent around ten years as Creative Director at a prominent studio before launching my own practice. I’ve always known I wanted to be a designer of some kind, and interiors is where I finally found a true sense of purpose.

I’m particularly inspired by designers who arrived in the field through unconventional routes and who bring a clear and personal point of view, such as Thomas Heatherwick and John Pawson. I’m also deeply influenced by how a space functions, not just how it
looks. That balance between emotional resonance and architectural intent has always driven me.

Your style has evolved over time, but there’s still that strong thread of classic architectural detailing in your work. How do you keep that timeless feel while still bringing in fresh ideas?

For me, it’s about anchoring each space with a sense of proportion and permanence and then layering in pieces that feel emotionally and culturally present. I love working with traditional materials – marble, wood, bronze – but exploring them through new finishes or unexpected pairings. It’s also about being open: listening to the space, the client, the art.

You must know the rules of architecture before you can quietly subvert them.

Your family’s country retreat featured in the May 25 Issue of ELLE Decoration is a favourite of ours. Can you tell us about your rug selection for this project?

Thank you, that project was deeply personal. The Ashley Stark Home ‘Varen’ rug in the dining room brought a softness that balanced the room’s rustic strength – it’s a beautiful tension. In the bedroom, we chose a more textural, tactile piece that invited calm and warmth underfoot. Rugs in that space weren’t just decorative; they were integral to the rhythm and feeling of the rooms. That balance between grounding and lifting a space is something I always look for.

The Curator’s Room at WOW!house has been described as “a radical yet refined ode to women’s creative legacy.” What inspired you to explore this narrative in such an immersive way? 

I wanted to create a space that felt like a living, breathing tribute to the brilliance of women across time. Reading Ninth Street Women and The Story of Art Without Men made me think more deeply about visibility, about how many women have shaped our visual and cultural landscapes without due recognition. The room is fictional, but the references are real. Every piece is designed by, made by or in dialogue with a woman; from Charlotte Perriand to contemporary collaborators like Andrea Ferguson and Roksanda. It’s a space of presence, not pastiche. 

The space is described as both a studio and a sanctuary. How did that duality influence your selection of textures, materials, and finishes?

It was very intentional. The Studio is light-filled, with expansive energy; clean panelling, raw linens, artworks that provoke thought. The Sanctuary is quieter, cocooning, deeper tones, tactile materials, soft light. That duality allowed us to play with contrast while maintaining coherence. We used hand-painted finishes by Angel, bespoke joinery by Seamers, and custom panelling to hold the space together. It’s not about opulence; it’s about emotional layering. 

Rugs often play a quiet but powerful role in a space. What was important to you when designing the rug for The Curator’s Room, and how does it contribute to the overall story?

The rug was essential – a visual and emotional anchor. I worked closely with STARK and Catherine Hunt to develop the Tribute Rug, which honours key female creatives through form and gesture. It sits in the Studio and ties the entire room together. The palette was drawn from tones found in vintage ceramics and artworks in the space, while the composition nods to gestural abstraction, women like Lee Krasner or Helen Frankenthaler. It’s a homage, but also a contemporary piece with weight and integrity. 

The room draws on collectible design, fine art and bespoke craft. How do you approach combining these elements while maintaining a cohesive visual narrative? 

It comes down to curation with purpose. Some pieces came from my own collection, others were commissioned specifically for the room. There’s a Charlotte Perriand bookcase alongside a tapestry by Andrea Ferguson, a hand-thrown vase by Helen Johannessen beside a sculptural armchair from Luella Bartley. Every object had to feel like it belonged to the same story, that of a woman who collects with soul and intellect. Craft is the common thread, not just in technique, but in care. 

If visitors could take away one lasting feeling or message from The Curator’s Room, what would you hope that to be? 

That design can carry deep emotional weight, and that women’s stories deserve space. I hope people walk away with a sense of the quiet radicalism embedded in the room.