With windows flung open to the scent of salt air and roses, Claudia Darr basks in the charm of a 1930s california cottage she restored for her family.
By Susan Heeger
Claudia took her remodeling cues from the 1922 Craftsman cottage next to her home on the same property. The designer chose much of her new color palette from the old rose garden, which she planted herself.
On any given weekend, Claudia Darr's Laguna Beach bungalow is packed with girls: teens lolling in the living room, kids in the kitchen, 11- and 12-year-olds piled on the master bed watching TV with Stella, a yellow Lab. The scent of salt air and roses wafts through open windows. Freshly baked bread cools on the kitchen counter.
photography: Jeremy Samuelson
Claudia removed a wall between the kitchen and dining room to create one open space.
Just a block and a half from the Pacific Ocean, Claudia's cottage is the hangout of choice for her two daughters and their friends. Claudia, an interior designer, welcomes company with barbecues, roaring fires, and vintage quilts. She keeps everything unfussy so her family and all of their guests can completely relax when they walk in the door.
Such casual, simple warmth defines Claudia's approach to life—and the way she transformed a quirky rental property into a California charmer. Five years ago she was living in a tiny 1920s Craftsman cottage she'd moved here to save from the wrecking ball. A larger house directly behind the cottage was rented out to tenants. But as Claudia and the girls began feeling cramped in the cottage, they made a big switch and moved into the bigger house.
photography: Jeremy Samuelson
The larger 1930s home—just 1,500 square feet—had three bedrooms instead of two but was long on shortcomings. Windows were painted shut, there were few closets, and the floors were a hodgepodge of wood and tile. Plus, it lacked the Craftsman's rose garden and ocean view, and it desperately needed some up-to-date wiring. This was a larger home, but it was no bargain. Claudia recalls, "If you wanted coffee, you had to unplug the toaster."
She so loved her little Craftsman—the proverbial storybook retreat—that it inspired her to redo the 1930s house in the same vein. Claudia wasn't daunted by its slight size. Years ago, she'd left a 6,000-square-foot house nearby and never looked back. Out with the china, she decided then. No more silver. And in place of oversize antiques, she learned to love fewer, less precious things that could take a beating from kids and dogs. If she has a look, she says, its trademarks are "cheerful colors, simple shapes, and nothing pretentious."
Determined to give the new home light and air, Claudia replaced the old sticky windows, added more new ones, and installed French doors in place of aluminum sliders. She decked the exterior with shutters and window boxes stuffed with flowers to create instant views from rooms that looked out onto garden walls. She painted those walls red and planted ivy, which has since leaped up and swallowed them. Then she trained more ivy on the house itself.
Inside, Claudia removed the wall dividing the dining room and kitchen, creating a warm gathering spot where she can cook and visit with the girls. New glass-fronted cabinets hold pottery she's collected for years, and the sunflower-yellow walls cast a summer glow year-round. In the living room, she built a fireplace and bookcases, keeping the background white and adding splashes of color with such accessories as vintage cushions, dried gourds, a bin of handmade quilts. She explains, "I love color against the calm and Zenlike cleanliness of white."
While white is one of her themes, so are the built-ins that marry form and function in every room. Getting the most from space is a priority. The closet in her room doubles as a media unit, and the computer nooks and pullout desks in the second-floor "office" have taught her daughters to organize.
Despite its user-friendly parts, this cottage is unified by Claudia's informal, homespun taste. At ground level, she tied together the downstairs rooms with a single floor of Mexican Saltillo pavers she chose herself, one at a time. "I liked the ones with the footprints," she says, "from when dogs walked through the tile yard before the clay dried."
Not surprisingly, she doesn't fuss about neatness since she picked furnishings for comfort, not pedigree. Her coffee table may be 200 years old, but her low-slung sofa was a floor model and her armchairs are knockoffs of French antiques. She's no snob about combinations either, sneaking a modern Italian Artemide lamp, for instance, into her cozy living room.
"This is where we all want to be," says Claudia happily. "On Saturday nights, I feel like I'm running a sorority house."
~cottage living premier edition~
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