Recently, I joined The Local Project to share 10 Design Essentials, from architectural surfaces and bespoke craftsmanship to collectible furniture, objects and textiles. Consider it a glimpse into the Decus material library, and perhaps my own design psyche: tactile, sculptural, a little irregular and, admittedly, not always terribly practical.
We’ve always leaned bespoke, which makes Tim Noone a natural place to start. Furniture, cabinetry, wall panelling: all tailored, never templated. Our resident timber whisperer, Tim creates custom architectural surfaces that sit somewhere between primal and polished. Carved, worked and deliberately imperfect, his finishes turn timber into something altogether more expressive.
Next, Henry Wilson’s cast aluminium wall reliefs. Brutalist, but in a well-mannered way. Raw, weighty, and full of textures. We’ve circled them for years and most recently pitched them for a powder room, because why shouldn’t the smallest room feel like a small gallery? Each of the five profiles is hand-cast in Sydney. Slightly irregular, intentionally imperfect, somewhere between architectural detail and archaeological find. They’re designed to repeat, but never feel repetitive.
Then there’s the Martyn Thompson rug from Tibet. Silk, splattered like paint. It sounds like a bad idea, but somehow it isn’t. It’s equal parts chaos and luxury. You roll it out, and the room stops looking like it’s waiting for something.


Michaël Verheyden’s bronze trays are small, heavy, and oddly magnetic. Sand-cast and full of surprise textures. They don’t shout, but they do insist you touch them. Often.
Society Limonta throws have been around our studio and homes forever. Think cashmere, angora, wool—colours like olive and camomile. They offer mild existential comfort without needing to talk about it.

Next, there’s a glass vase from Ondene. Not too perfect, slightly warped. Comes to life with a loose, unruly bunch of stems inside.
And, Jorge Zalszupin’s Presidential Armchair. A longtime love affair. Rich, low-key, vaguely smug. The kind of chair that makes other chairs feel underdressed.

We’re not big on decorative flourishes, but Dimore’s Iris Field brocade had us reconsidering. Deep, dark, almost too much. Much like their metallic checkerboard silk, it shouldn’t work. And yet.
And finally, Atelier Fevrier’s exquisite Équilibre rug. Circle, triangle, square—almost textbook. But in silk, it becomes something else entirely. Less diagram, more daydream.