At Dyffryn House we’ve assembled objects with the patina of age and smoothness of utility.

So often it’s use that draws our attention, the more careworn the better.  We seek out the well-loved, sometimes unloved, objects on which the paintwork has worn away, the wood darkened through over-handling, the fabric frayed to gossamer fine, but which carries in it a depth of beauty, the evidence of a life before.

Unsurprisingly, we favour natural materials - things made of wood, washed in lime, fashioned from clay, laid in stone, spun from wool and woven in basketry. Artisanal crafts, as well as rough-hewn materials, unintentional in their secret beauty: uncarved hunks of rock picked up on walks, an end-of-the-day 'dump’ from a glass blowing factory, the decades-long layering of wall-paper exposed during renovation, left as a memo to the future.

That said, we’re not interested in living in some kind of museum. To us the house is an idiosyncratic yet harmonious home. Over the years we’ve built a stock of what might look to some like a bunch of disjointed ephemera, but which is in reality the carefully curated story of our lives.