Her focus on the practicalities comes from her background as a mother of five, researching flooring and fabrics that wouldn’t fall apart under the onslaught of rowdy little ones. “I became addicted to the feeling of blending what looks good with what is super functional,” she recalls. Initially a design hobbyist, she used her self-taught skills to launch her business in 2002. Her husband John joined Savvy seven years later, and the pair became general contractors, able to transform spaces through both big builds and aesthetic overhauls.

And it’s not just clients who benefit from Wintersteen’s thoughtful approach. In 2014, Wintersteen began redecorating rooms for kids experiencing medical crises, eventually creating a donor-funded nonprofit, Savvy Giving by Design. The organization now has 11 chapters nationwide and partners with the Make-A-Wish Foundation.

The nonprofit aims to create safe and comfortable spaces for children with medical needs, implementing, for example, automated beds and window coverings to account for limited mobility. But Wintersteen also wants to make the rooms a place of joy, filling them with color and cozy places to hang out and decorating them in line with each kid’s interest (say, superheroes or horses).

“[It] gives them the tools to enhance their healing,” Wintersteen says. “And when you see the impact it has on that kid, it’s really hard to not want to continue doing that.”

We asked Wintersteen to share deets from three of her favorite kitchen revamps.

Kitchen Renovation Projects by Savvy Interiors

Parisian Lakes Kitchen

“We transformed this space into a chic Parisian haven with a powder blue palette, marrying timeless elegance with contemporary charm in this kitchen remodel,” Wintersteen says.

Stools: Four Hands
Tile: Ann Sacks Segmented Hex Mosaic in Whitecap
Countertops: Cambria Winterbourne Light: Arteriors Heloise Pendant Paint Color: Benjamin Moore 1593 Adagio
Range: La Cornue

La Jolla Vacation Home

“We elevated this coastal retreat with a modern kitchen remodel, seamlessly blending sleek design elements and beachfront allure for the ultimate vacation home sanctuary,” Wintersteen explains.

Countertops: Caesarstone Raw Concrete 4004
Range Backsplash and Island: Bedrosians Manhattan Polished Quartzite
Range Wall Tile: Clé Four-Inch Zellige Tiles Range: Miele
Fridge: Sub-Zero

Green Olivenhain Kitchen

“We wanted to create a space that was easy to use and didn’t feel cramped for a busy family,” Wintersteen says. “When making our design selections, we had function in mind and wanted materials that worked for a family with young kids.”

Hood Color: Benjamin Moore Jojoba AF-460
Range: Bertazzoni 48-Inch Heritage Series Backsplash
Slab: Tutto Marmo Marble Statua Corchia Island Countertop: Cambria Everleigh
Perimeter Countertops: MSI Soapstone Metropolis Concrete Quartz Stools: CB2 Avont White Upholstered Counter Stool recovered with Dorell Fabric, pattern Elliot in color avocado

The post 3 Ways to Revamp Your Kitchen appeared first on San Diego Magazine.

Located on a steep lot overlooking La Jolla’s Pottery Canyon and offering views of La Jolla Shores, the Yen House insists visitors ponder such equations. Sometimes referred to as the Lotus House for the petal-like shape of its roof lines, the structure is more than a dwelling. It is a singular achievement of San Diego design, vision, trust, and collaboration.

“The house will literally pull the breath out of your lungs and put a smile on your face,” says Keith York, founder of Modern San Diego. “It’s one of the most intoxicating living spaces in the county. Period. Full stop. It demands its own language.”

Outside, punctuating the blooming silhouette of the three-bed, two-bath home, is a sweeping concrete triangular column. Its top serves as the central fireplace of the main living room. At its bottom, it becomes a shower. Inside, the home plays with space, compressing those within before letting them go into grand arenas.

“It’s like a nautilus shell,” says Dee Yen, whose parents, Dr. Samuel and Kathryn Yen, commissioned Kellogg to build their dream home in the late ’70s. “Everything is on a curve moving downward. That it mimics nature so well is incredible.”

In the middle of the spiraling nautilus is a multi-floor glass-and-plexiglass atrium funneling light throughout the center of the home, offering an energetic compass.

“The atrium orients you, so you know where you are,” says architect, historian, and author Alan Hess, who featured the Yen House in a book on modern architecture in the American West.

“The house looks like a bundt cake with a hole in the center,” York adds. “It’s just otherworldly, almost like you’re underwater. There’s so much glass, you experience the outdoors from every room.”

Contemporary houses are often a collection of rectangles, marketed in terms of number of floors, number of rooms. With its Venn-diagram blueprint, the Yen House doesn’t just depart from this thinking—it seems to have never been weighed down by such formalities in the first place.

“Ken would have nothing to do with boxes, with convention,” Hess says, “because they don’t fit all conditions and demands.”

There is scarcely a corner to be found throughout the nearly 3,400-square-foot home. With its glass walls and bending movements of wood, the house conjures spaces that are decidedly un-house-like.

When standing in the kitchen, “you’re literally at the helm of a ship looking out at the ocean,” Dee Yen says. She remembers Kellogg and his crew steaming countless individual Douglas fir boards onsite, stapling them into place to create the wave-like ceiling. “The craftsmanship is incredible. The wood, the curves. To this day, when you walk in, it smells warm and woodsy.”

Kellogg, who was born in Mission Beach and attended Grossmont High School, died this year at the age of 90. His work is celebrated as an iconoclastic continuation of architectural demigods Louis Sullivan and Frank Lloyd Wright, as well as local legends Irving J. Gill (La Jolla Women’s Club) and Llyod Ruocco (Civic Theater). Though his famous works span the globe in places like Hawaii and Japan, most of Kellogg’s designs can be seen throughout San Diego County.

And while Kellogg garners the praise, York points out that it was the Yens who provided him the latitude to imagine and build such an intrepid habitat.

“I give them a lot of credit,” he says. “They allowed this to happen.”

“My dad wanted to build a showpiece,” Dee Yen confirms. “He wanted something earthy and beautiful and show-stopping.”

And while the Yen family eventually sold the house after Dr. Yen died, his daughter says his collaboration with Kellogg fulfilled his dream.

“There is no other house like it,” York adds. “It’s just a radical house.”

The post Inside The Yen House, One of San Diego’s Most Iconic Homes appeared first on San Diego Magazine.

No, you didn’t accidentally hit the DMT pen instead of your usual vape. You’re fine. You may have simply wandered into The Gold Dust Collective oddities shop in North Park.

Gold Dust is a curiosity hunter’s dream, full of bizarro taxidermy, charms, potions, local art, jewelry, and funky secondhand scores. For fans of the freakish, the store holds down a niche corner of San Diego décor. When you’re in the market for half-stuffed roadkill dressed in doll clothes or an old jug for holding mercury, this is your place. Curated with the care of an art gallery, Gold Dust is more than a place for strange gifts. It’s an ode to the macabre and a middle finger to the mundane.

So it’s no surprise that Gold Dust owners Kate Conner and Damien Ducommun have brought the same spirit to their home in Jamul.

Sitting on more than 8.5 acres of prime rattlesnake and coyote country, their property boasts two houses, an art studio, a freestanding garage, and a large, dusty pen where their tortoise, Earl, eats his salads. The main house is shockingly approachable. Built in 1978, the 2,200-square-foot three-bed, two-bath would look the part in Tahoe or Big Bear with its wood-paneled walls and high, paneled ceilings. Light pours in from large windows showcasing shrubland punctuated by large granite boulders.

A big wraparound deck separates the house from an earth-brick studio with weathered, swinging wooden doors and a terracotta roof. Inside, Ducommun handcrafts stylish western hats under the label Haberdash Hat Co., selling them at Gold Dust and by commission.

“The bricks were all made here from dirt onsite,” Ducommun says of his workshop. “The woman who lived here before us, this was her original art studio.”

Ducommun does more than hats. Many items for sale at Gold Dust have passed through his hands. He rescues dilapidated taxidermy, and his studio is littered with various animals in need of repair. He shows me a stuffed white mouse that he plans on dressing in western wear and mounting on a half-coiled rattlesnake—saddle and all—like a snapshot from a surrealist rodeo.

But it’s up the hill where things get really interesting. The 1,000-square-foot guest house, shaped like a barn and painted dark red, is where the couple spends most of their time. It’s where they sleep and where their true colors shine. Walking in is like stepping into a private oddities expo.

“I call it moody maximalism,” Conner says.

Maximalism might be an understatement. A javelina, a bighorn sheep, a Canadian goose, a raven, an axis deer, an antelope, an armadillo, weasels, raccoons, snakes, a fox in a top hat. Bones from one of their late cats lie reverently in a glass box. The bones of a full human finger dangle delicately from a mount. A foot from a pet chicken killed by a coyote is mounted on the wall, permanently flipping the bird. Maybe it’s the big plants giving all this dead stuff life, but somehow, it doesn’t feel overwhelming. It feels like hanging out in a museum, every item carrying a story.

“I think my favorite taxidermy piece by far is the peacock,” Conner says, pointing to the open bedroom loft above.

“Yeah, when we got it, it was on a really kind of janky mount,” Ducommun explains. “I found this really cool old lamp that was missing all the components. So I just did a little tweaking.”

Conner loves the history of these objects— and the challenge of finding them.

“She’s the queen of winning online auctions and hunting stuff down,” Ducommun says. “That’s a full-time job in itself, knowing what it’s worth, what the market is.”

“Something that I pride myself on a lot is that nothing in here we’ve paid even close to retail for,” Conner adds. “My favorite hobby is the hunt.”

I appreciate animals, but being around so many quirky stuffed ones doesn’t fill me with life, as it seems to do for Conner and Ducommun. To better understand the allure, I called Michelle Cozzaglio in Tulsa, Oklahoma. Her traveling collector market, the Oddities and Curiosities Expo, stops annually in SD.

“Taxidermy in the home is a resurgence of that life,” she tells me. “The animal has passed and you’re kind of giving it a second life. That’s why some people are so drawn to it.”

This seems to ring true for Conner and Ducommun.

“We both have the highest respect for animals,” Conner says. “And honestly, nothing breaks our heart more than seeing pieces of taxidermy that are in a state where clearly the next step is the dump. It just seems so disrespectful and sad. So that’s why we like to find pieces and give them a new life and a name, because they deserve it.”

However, the couple acknowledges that the vibe isn’t for everybody. Some people are minimalists, after all.

“I’m a more-is-more gal, always,” Conner says.

The post Inside the Maximalist Home of SD’s Gold Dust Collective appeared first on San Diego Magazine.