Location: 3308 St Emanuel Street, Houston, Texas

Price: $1,100,000

Year Built: 2008

Architect: Ronnie Self

Footprint: 1,856 square feet (2 bedrooms, 1 bath) 

Lot Size: 0.16 Acres 

From the Agent: “The Saint Emanuel House has become an iconic symbol of Houston’s bustling Third Ward. Architect Ronnie Self designed the home to celebrate the relationship between architecture, nature, and urban life. The home mediates between two contrasting environments—an urban downtown skyline and a traditional residential neighborhood. Its elevated design and use of concrete walls and columns allow it to interact with both the freeway and the more serene neighborhood with sensitivity. The area beneath doubles as an outdoor living space, a welcome reprieve from Houston’s summers! The cantilevered slab references nearby elevated freeway ramps, creating a sense of continuity with the surrounding infrastructure while establishing a sense of place within a larger urban context. The interior offers floor-to-ceiling views of downtown, while the bedrooms are oriented toward the expansive garden of native plantings. You will love the panoramic views from the roof deck!”

The home sits off Interstate 69 in Houston’s third ward, bordering a residential neighborhood.

TK Images for Martha Turner Sotheby’s International Realty

Houses We Love: Every day we feature a remarkable space submitted by our community of architects, designers, builders, and homeowners. Have one to share? Post it here.

Project Details:

Location: Solliveien, Asker, Norway

Architect: Rever & Drage / @reverdrage

Footprint: 323 square feet

Builder: Løfte AS and Lervike AS

Photographer: Tom Auger

From the Architect: “The Folly in Solliveien, Norway, stands in the middle of an elongated garden, adjacent to a large old oak tree. It marks the transition from the everyday hustle and bustle surrounding the residential building at the eastern end of the plot to the tranquility of the pastoral western end. As such the building also encapsulates a literal gate as part of its eastern wall. Stepping across the threshold leads you into a more serene setting.

“This building is not purely decorative or entirely nonfunctional. While its appearance certainly transcends its practical purpose and exceeds the scope of conventional garden structures, the main volume still houses functional spaces. These include a dining room with an adjoining kitchen and a bathroom. The bathroom features a sauna, a bathtub, and an outdoor shower.

“The smaller, leaning structure opposite the main volume contains a small lounge with a glass roof, allowing visitors to gaze up at the sprawling branches of the oak tree. This secluded, quiet space evokes the charm of childhood tree houses and secret hideaways. Seclusion is achieved through fixed glass roof panels for daylight and views, while a wooden hatch provides ventilation and serves as an emergency exit.

“From the eastern approach, the folly presents a elegant silhouette, which contrasts with the solid materials and historical connotations of its log construction. The slim, smooth oak panels juxtapose the stout, rough logs. The volumes simultaneously converge on the gate and stretch away from it, opening up to the impressive oak that dominates the scene.

“From the pastoral west, the building takes on the appearance of a warm embrace, creating a sunny nook for cozy afternoons. Thus, offering a moment of respite before you cross the threshold back into the challenges of everyday life.”

Welcome to Sofa Sagas—stories about the circuitous search for a very important and occasionally fraught piece of furniture.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned from three moves in three years, it’s that sofas are more than just furniture. They’re a declaration—of space, of priorities, of how you want to live. They are also, as I found out, a crash course in self-discovery. What started as a series of pragmatic, even rushed, purchases ended with the kind of realization I wish I had years ago: when it comes to picking the centerpiece of a living room, forget what looks best or what works for guests. The only thing that really matters is what works for you.

The apartment-size compromise

My first real foray into couch ownership was purely logistical. I had just moved into an old apartment with a floor plan best described as quirky. The building, like many in Brooklyn built in the early 1900s, was full of charm, but also full of pitfalls—slanted hardwood floors, a bathroom in a skylight (yes, you read that correctly—our bathroom was IN a skylight), and doors seemingly designed for people who had never considered moving furniture in or out. After an unsuccessful day of attempting to shove a dream sofa from West Elm through the front door, which, in the process, made a giant hole in the wall—oopsie!—then through a second-story window—my partner Josh and I conceded defeat. We sent the delivery people home with the sofa. The only solution for tiny doors and a huge living room? A modular couch that could be assembled inside the apartment.

But here’s the thing about sofas: you don’t really know how you feel about one until you’ve lived with it.

Enter the Lovesac Sactional, a sectional that promised ultimate flexibility. Its claim to fame was that you could configure it however you wanted, wash the cushion covers or change them out whenever you felt like it, and—crucially—it arrived in pieces, making it the only real option for our space. At first, it seemed like a perfect fix. The cushions were firm, the lines clean, and the light-colored fabric brightened up the living room. It wasn’t my dream couch, but it was functional.

But here’s the thing about sofas: you don’t really know how you feel about one until you’ve lived with it. And over time, I realized that what had started as a practical choice became an everyday annoyance. The cushions, advertised as firm but “comfortable,” were more like sitting on a slightly padded wooden bench. The light fabric? A magnet for stains and evidence of every snack we ever ate while watching TV. And while it was technically modular, the ottoman, which we had improvised from an interior seat, never quite felt cohesive—it was like a little floating island that only stayed in place because we constantly pushed it back together.

When we moved out of that apartment during the pandemic, we were ready to leave the Lovesac behind. Instead, it was demoted to the basement of our next apartment, where it became a crash pad for TV marathons, hidden away like a secret we didn’t want guests to see.

The Instagram-worthy mistake

For our second move, I decided to prioritize aesthetics. We had found our dream apartment, and I wanted a dream couch to go with it. We had more space and normal-sized doors, and I was determined to get a sofa that would never show stains—a sofa as good as the ones I obsessively saved on Instagram. That’s how I landed on the Floyd Sectional—a sleek, minimalist beauty that seemed to embody the modern, put-together home I wanted to create.

There was just one problem: I had never actually sat on one before buying it.

Floyd, like many trendy furniture brands, operates largely online, which means there was no way to test it out. And even if there had been a showroom, we were still deep in the pandemic, when everything had to be purchased online for safety reasons. I scoured reviews, watched unboxing videos, and convinced myself that it must be comfortable. And for the first few weeks, I told myself it was. The low-profile design made the living room feel spacious, and its deep blue color gave the space a sophisticated, editorial feel. But then, the cracks (or rather, the gaps) started to show.

Quite literally.

The sectional’s pieces had a maddening tendency to drift apart at the slightest movement. The little alligator claws meant to hold it together did nothing of the sort, creating a chasm between seats that swallowed remote controls and made lounging feel like an extreme sport. No matter how much we adjusted it, the pieces were always slowly sliding apart like tectonic plates slowly shifting before an earthquake. It was a couch that looked stunning in photos but was a disaster in practice—perfect for Instagram, terrible for real life.

Worse, it wasn’t actually comfortable. Sure, it had better padding than the Lovesac, but the seats were oddly firm, horrible for naps. It was the kind of couch you picked for guests—not for yourself.

After a year, I was over it. We were forced to move out of our dream apartment thanks to a nightmare set off when the 75-year-old garden center next door was sold to developers. That sale triggered a full-blown chain reaction: rats moved into our walls (yes, we could hear them skittering above our heads at night), our landlords got into it with the developers, and construction trucks began rolling up in front of our bedroom between 4 and 5 a.m. daily. Then came the final straw—a hasty notice that we’d need to vacate for an unspecified amount of time so they could demo the basement to fix structural damage. So, naturally, we packed up, took the Floyd, and donated the basement Lovesac to family members who needed a couch. Only in New York, right? 

The one that finally felt like home

By the time we were shopping for our third sofa in almost as many years, the Floyd was causing actual arguments in our relationship. It was far too big for our new, much smaller apartment, and we had to reconfigure the sofa—turning a freestanding side piece into an ottoman so it would fit in our space. Often, we fought over who got the “lay down spot”—the only place where you could stretch out comfortably and watch TV without cricking your neck.

For our next couch, we had one nonnegotiable that we both agreed on: comfort. I didn’t give two figs if the couch looked like it belonged in an interior design magazine. I didn’t care what guests thought when they walked into our living room. I wanted a sofa that we could sink into at the end of the day, one that didn’t require constant adjusting or fighting for the “lay down spot.”

Ironically, after all of our trial and error—and lots of internet deep dives for options that ticked both the comfort and the price range box—we found ourselves back at the Lovesac showroom. A full-circle moment. But this time, we made better choices. Instead of defaulting to what was most practical or what looked best, we went all in on what actually felt good.

This time, we got upgraded soft cushions. We went with a slanted-back chair, optimal for reclining. We opted for a darker, stain-resistant fabric in blue chenille (because we finally accepted that we will, inevitably, spill wine on the couch). And, most importantly, we configured it as more of a daybed double lounger. (Lovesac calls it a “movie lounger” configuration—essentially a double ottoman so two people can stretch out while watching TV.) It made a coffee table in front of the couch impossible, but who needs one when you can fully stretch out? Our West Elm coffee table now lives beside the couch instead of in front of it, which I know is unorthodox, but it’s a compromise I’m more than happy to make.

It’s not the most conventionally stylish setup, but it’s the first couch that I truly love. No more fighting over the comfy spot—every seat is a comfy spot. No more reassembling pieces after they float away. For the first time, I have a sofa that actually makes me happy.

What I learned about sofas (and myself)

Looking back, I realize that my sofa journey was really about learning to prioritize my own needs. In the beginning, I chose a couch based on what was convenient. Then, I chose based on what I thought looked best. Only on the third try did I choose based on what actually mattered: my comfort.

It’s a lot like choosing a career. At first, you might go for the job that sounds the most prestigious—the one that looks impressive on LinkedIn, makes for good small talk at parties, or aligns with what other people expect of you. But after a while, you realize that none of that matters if you don’t actually enjoy the work. You’re the one who has to show up every day, deal with the demands, and live with the long-term impact of your choices. A couch is the same way. You can pick one based on what seems stylish or what you think others will admire, but at the end of the day, you’re the one who has to sink into it.

So if you’re picking a couch, here’s my hard-won advice: Forget what looks good on Instagram. Forget what your friends and family might think when they visit—they’ll deal. Buy the couch that makes you happy every single day. You won’t regret it.

Illustration by Silvia Reginato

Related Reading: 

My Dream Sofa, the Couch Doctor, and Me

My Exasperating Odyssey to Find the Perfect (Not Gray) Couch(es

While most couples dream of charm and curb appeal, Alex Warnock-Smith and Jean Wang landed on the ugliest house on the street in Finchley, North London—and they couldn’t have been happier. With its drab, browny-gray pebbledash facade and a timber porch on the brink of collapse, it looked more like a haunted house than a welcoming family home. “Inside was even worse,” Alex says with a laugh. “A proper horror show.” 

But the bones were there: wider-than-usual proportions, soaring ceilings, and a four-bedroom layout. It had been sitting unloved on the market, and they snapped it up before anyone else could see its potential.

The plan was to move in straight away and renovate slowly. “We figured it would be messy but manageable,” says Jean. They had two young kids, full-time jobs (Alex is director of Urban Projects Bureau; Jean is a landscape designer at the same firm), and just enough optimism to believe they could make it work.

Then the pandemic hit. 

“Suddenly, we were working from home, the kids were out of school, and the place was a literal building site,” says Jean. They shuffled between rooms like human Tetris, sleeping in the kitchen one week, the back room the next. “The kids were in the living room with a hole in the wall and no heating,” says Alex. “It was grim. But also…kind of exhilarating?”

In January, a colleague was remarking on an ongoing renovation project to transform her attic into a primary bedroom and bath. When the word “tariff” started leaking into the home renovation lexicon, she began chatting with neighbors about how she might avoid fluctuating prices, material delivery delays, and going over budget. One suggested purchasing all the major supplies now, and storing them in a shed for when permits go through and construction could begin. Imagining a Tuff Shed packed with two-by-fours, electrical conduit, insulation, bathroom tile, a toilet—it all felt somewhat dystopian.

Today, however, just one month after the Trump administration announced sweeping duties on imported goods (and shortly thereafter provided a 90-day pause on most), hoarding materials doesn’t sound like such a bad idea, especially since experts are mixed on how tariffs will impact the renovation market; USA Today sources estimate increases ranging widely—anywhere from single digits to 25 percent. But they do agree that homeowners can shield themselves from price hikes and fluctuations without postponing building their dream home, or piling up supplies in their backyards.

Though the Architecture Billings Index, the AIA’s measure of nonresidential construction, has been soft for some time, home renovations have remained a booming business. Since a light lull after a Covid-fueled surge, homeowners have been embracing change, perhaps as a way to cope with an ugly real estate market. “People are staying in their existing homes and improving them, and they’re often funding those improvements with home equity lines of credit,” explains Liz Young, founder and CEO of Los Angeles start-up Realm, which guides clients through construction and renovation projects. It can make more financial sense to renovate a home than buy a new one, adds Young.

After crunching numbers on recent renovation projects in California and the greater Seattle area (where Realm operates), Young’s team has reason to believe tariffs will have little impact on total costs in those areas—around two percent in West Coast markets. “For our average customer, when we look at the percentage of the project that is an imported material, it’s actually quite low. And most of the project costs are at least half labor,” she says. Perhaps contrary to the industry’s tariff anxieties, Young notes that she’s actually seeing a surge in project inquiries of late. “Given that 2026 holds more uncertainty, this actually creates a motivation to do these projects sooner than wait.”

“The best thing to do is get multiple quotes, but one thing I think people often skip is asking for a sample contract.”

—Keefer Dunn, architect

Planning ahead can be critical to larger home renovation projects since you can secure material prices before adjusted tariff announcements and avoid resulting product delays, says Young. Many of the contractors her company works with offer “price locks,” which guarantee the cost of specific materials over a period of time. While most won’t hold prices indefinitely, many will secure them for several months, she says.

Price locks are just one of several possible tools homeowners can use to secure materials costs. The AIA, which offers contracts and documents to architects and builders, also cites a “cost plus a fee” structure, known simply as cost-plus, wherein a homeowner can pay a contractor for work based on the actual cost incurred in procuring the materials or equipment, plus a fee to cover overhead, profit, and other ancillary costs.

Price locks are just one of several possible tools homeowners can use to secure materials costs. AIA Contract Documents, which offers contracts and documents to architects and builders, also cites a “cost plus a fee” structure, known simply as “cost-plus,” wherein a homeowner can pay a contractor for work based on the actual cost incurred in procuring the materials or equipment, plus a fee to cover overhead, profit, and other ancillary costs. According to the company’s director of counsel and content development, Alisa Schneider, this type of compensation structure is particularly useful for projects with less-defined scopes of work, or where the costs may be uncertain.

“Often these agreements also envision that total payments to the contractor will be capped at an agreed to Guaranteed Maximum Price (“GMP”),” Schneider said in an email. “The GMP gives an owner certainty as to the amount they will be obligated to pay and normally represents the contractor’s estimate for the actual cost, plus a contingency for unanticipated costs, and the contractor’s fee.” The parties might also use a shared savings clause in their cost-plus agreement establishing that a contractor will be paid a percentage of any costs saved or avoided, encouraging them to control pricing for materials and labor. Commonly used, also, are contract allowances—a way for clients to provide a cost maximum for supplies that are susceptible to price changes.

When looking at project costs, Young recommends working closely with an architect or design-build group to ensure that the scope of work is clearly mapped out from the beginning. Young says that one of the biggest contributors to renovation price increases are change orders, wherein parts of a project shift and incur additional fees. She notes that a homeowner can push for a “No Change Order” clause in a contract, but if that isn’t possible or there are upheavals in the scope of work, price locks and allowances could provide some protection from material price volatility.

While legally-binding contract clauses can provide peace-of-mind to homeowners, at the root of a smooth project is finding a transparent contractor, says Chicago architect Keefer Dunn. “There are many different ways that contractors structure their contracts, especially in smaller scale renovations. The best thing to do is get multiple quotes, but one thing I think people often skip is asking for a sample contract.” Sample contracts, says Dunn, help clients understand how contractors structure their payments, how they think about owner-supplied materials, and more. These contracts can demonstrate contractor professionalism, and make evident whether processes and pricing are transparent.

“Contractors will break down their costs in very different ways. It’s more standardized for large projects or new construction projects. If you’re working below $500,000, it’s the Wild West—it’s very difficult to compare apples to apples, but you can look and see who is breaking down cost of labor versus cost of materials,” explains Dunn. “Are they saying the price is $40,000 and they’re breaking it out into 30 different line items? Those kinds of things help you understand where the costs are coming from.”

While DYing a renovation could cut labor expenses, in many cases, collaborating with a team of professionals can actually lower material costs by leveraging their existing relationships. Young says Realm’s connections to suppliers often means significant discounts on finishes and fixtures, for example. Trusted builders can also easily calculate extra costs that could be “layered in” among tariffs. Adds Young, “When you have a supply chain that has multiple transaction points, I think it comes down to making sure that you have a trusted contractor ensuring that you’re not being ripped off, and they’re not being ripped off along the way.”

Related Reading:

What Trump’s Tariffs Could Mean for Home Building—and the Housing Crisis

Buying a Prefab ADU Was Supposed to Be Easier Than This

124 Spruce Street in Princeton, New Jersey, is currently listed at $2,380,000 by Maura Mills at Callaway Henderson Sotheby’s International Realty.

Set just a block from Nassau Street, this newly constructed four-story home fuses quiet luxury and thoughtful design. While the structure is new, the sensibility is timeless—soothing materials, intuitive layouts, and integrated technology all working in quiet harmony. 

Inside, the palette leans serene: glass panels and cable rails provide a weightless, architectural edge, while soft-toned wallpaper and linear wood trim play against the 9-foot ceilings, introducing warmth and texture without overstating their presence. 

Just off the entry, woodgrain doors with brushed brass hardware open to a flexible space that functions equally well as a study, den, or reading retreat. In the open living and dining area, layered design elements add subtle drama. A fireplace-ready niche sits beneath a Frame TV, wrapped in bold tile. A discreet wet bar glows from within, elevating everyday hosting into something more ceremonial. 

The adjacent kitchen balances form and function. Frameless cabinetry, a waterfall-edge quartz island, and Samsung Bespoke appliances keeps the aesthetic clean with a smart touch. Much of the home’s technology—lighting, climate, shades—is ambient by design, programmed to respond to time and use without fanfare. 

Sustainability and efficiency are core to the build. Black-framed Pella windows, enhanced insulation, a dual-zone heat pump HVAC, and a heat-pump water heater contribute to reduced energy consumption. Even the walk-out basement—fully finished with a wood bar, rain shower bath, and access to the fenced backyard—was constructed using insulated concrete form for added efficiency and strength. 

Outdoor space continues on the upper floors, where private decks extend from both the top-level suite and the main suite. The latter offers a sense of retreat, anchored by a bath clad entirely in oversized tile, a freestanding tub, and  a dual-sided walk-in closet. 

Listing Details 

Bedrooms: 5 

Baths: 4 full, 1 partial 

Year Built: 2024 

Plot Size: 0.13 acres  

2801 E Camino Norberto in Tucson, Arizona, is currently listed at $2,998,000 by Robin Kaiserman and Melissa Henderson at Russ Lyon Sotheby’s International Realty.

Designed by modernist architect Judith Chafee, the Ramada House is a reflection of its natural surroundings. The gated estate spans more than eight acres of lush desert vegetation amid city and mountain views in the Catalina Foothills Estates. Completed in 1975, the Ramada House stands as the pinnacle of Chafee’s career, embodying her innovative approach to desert modernism and her unwavering commitment to creating buildings that harmonize with their environment. 

The Ramada House is widely considered Chafee’s most significant work, showcasing the full maturity of her architectural vision. Her education at Yale University and her work with luminaries such as Eero Saarinen and Walter Gropius laid the foundation for the unique design principles that found their fullest expression in this residence. 

The Ramada House’s significance to Arizona’s architectural heritage is further cemented by its inclusion on the National Register of Historic Places in 2006, a rare honor for a relatively young building at the time. This designation not only acknowledges the home’s architectural importance but also ensures its preservation for future generations to study and admire. 

The enduring impact of the Ramada House is reflected in recent publications and exhibitions dedicated to Chafee’s work. The book “Powerhouse: The Life and Work of Judith Chafee” by Christopher Domin and Kathryn McGuire prominently features the Ramada House as a highlight of Chafee’s career. Additionally, the traveling exhibit “Judith Chafee: Framing the Desert” showcases the Ramada House as a central piece, bringing this architectural marvel to a wider audience. 

With its distinctive lofted grid made of wood slats inspired by traditional Tohono O’odham building techniques, the Ramada House exemplifies Chafee’s skill in integrating indigenous design elements with modern living. This approach not only created a unique aesthetic but also demonstrated a profound understanding of the local climate and culture. 

The legacy of the Ramada House continues to inspire architects and students in Arizona and beyond. It serves as an exemplary model for sustainable, regionally responsive architecture that respects its environment while pushing the boundaries of modernist design. The ongoing interest in the Ramada House ensures that Judith Chafee’s most significant contribution to architecture will continue to be studied, celebrated, and influential for years to come.

Listing Details 

Bedrooms: 4 

Baths: 4 full 

Year Built: 1975

Square Feet: 3,797

Plot Size: 8.6 acres

27467 Bay Shore Drive in Lake Arrowhead, California is currently listed at $3,495,000 by Dani Rosenthal at Wheeler Steffen Sotheby’s International Realty.

On the water at Lake Arrowhead, this mountain retreat fuses contemporary design with natural materials. The four-bed, five-bath residence was freshly remodeled and thoughtfully designed this year. Passing through the white oak and glass front doors, the main living space features soaring wood beam ceilings, a floor-to-ceiling stone fireplace, and a wall of windows showcasing sparkling lake views. 

The fireplace is flanked by a custom walnut built-in, providing storage for firewood and treasured objects. An expansive eat-in kitchen features integrated appliances and built-in storage. A massive T-shaped, Taj Mahal marble-topped island is grounded by richly grained walnut. Custom cabinetry envelops the kitchen, combining fluted glass cabinets with walnut open shelving. The kitchen’s showpiece, however, is the brand new La Cornue range, a French luxury used by Michelin-starred chefs, built to last a lifetime. 

An open dining space extends from the kitchen, bathed in natural light from a large picture window and a sliding glass door that leads to a deck overlooking the lake. For more intimate gatherings, step up to the den overlooking the living room. Enjoy the custom wet-bar, or curl up by the wood-burning fireplace. This space opens onto a secluded backyard complete with a hot tub. Rounding out the main level is an inviting guest bedroom, and bath detailed with Zia tile and lights from In Common With.

The curved staircase, illuminated by a sculptural Ravenhill Studio chandelier, leads to two suites connected by a floating walkway. The first suite boasts vaulted ceilings, a custom walnut bed, and a natural stone fireplace. The adjoining dressing room and en suite bathroom foster a restorative atmosphere, enhanced by a marble-topped double vanity and oversized walk-in shower. 

In the second suite, awaken to water views from the custom white oak built-in bed. Yet another stone fireplace lends warmth and natural beauty to the space. The final guest bedroom provides flexibility for overnight guests or working remotely. 

The home’s lower level touts a spacious bonus room with custom mudroom cabinets, slate floors, and a washer and dryer. Off this bonus room is a spa-inspired bathroom and sauna for the perfect recovery space after lake days, accessible from the lower level and included dock. Additional brand new and notable features include a presidential roof, aluminum- and wood-clad windows, Trex decking, central air conditioning, a garage door, and EV charger. 

Listing Details 

Bedrooms: 4 

Baths: 5 full 

Square Feet: 2,898

104 Marlborough Road in Briarcliff Manor, New York, is currently listed at $2,999,000 by Joanne Rizoulis and Amy Smith-Sroka at Julia B. Fee Sotheby’s International Realty.

The Roy O. Allen House is arguably one of the most renowned modern homes in Westchester County and a celebrated icon of midcentury glass architecture worldwide. Designed by the esteemed Roy O. Allen of SOM—lead architect of Manhattan’s 1 Liberty Plaza—this stunning residence was originally crafted for his own family and has since been meticulously restored, reimagined, and modernized through two major renovations.

Nestled on more than one and a half acres of bucolic land and surrounded by old-growth trees, the home offers sweeping seasonal views of the Hudson River from every room.

The 1957 International Style pavilion has been featured in our very own pages as well as TV shows like Fallout and Hunters; the current owners even have an established filming location fee with Amazon, Apple, and Netflix.

A newly reconfigured primary suite now features a breathtaking slabbed Calacatta verde bathroom with Waterworks fixtures and an exquisite custom Poliform walk-in closet from Italy, crafted from glass, wood, and leather. Designer details in the suite also include upholstered moss-green suede walls and a leathered stone accent wall, paying homage to the home’s Mies van der Rohe–inspired design ethos.

In addition, a brand-new king bedroom suite has been created, complete with plush wool Stark carpeting and an en suite Waterworks bathroom clad in Sahara Noir marble and featuring a rain shower.

Further enhancing the home’s aesthetic are custom Apparatus light fixtures, Buster + Punch metal switches, and Stark carpeting, seamlessly blending high design with timeless modernism. A cinematic tour de force, the home showcases the changing seasons via a shining display of glass and light.

While an entertainer’s dream, the Roy O. Allen House is also an inspired sanctuary for those seeking an escape—just 39 miles from the rush of the city. Frequent visitors include bald eagles, hawks, osprey, and owls—all adding serenity to this tranquil retreat. 

Listing Details 

Bedrooms: 3 

Baths: 4 full 

Year Built: 1957

Square Feet: 4,002

Plot Size: 1.7 acres

Location: 1160 Nepal Place, West Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada

Price: $3,698,000 CAD (approximately $2,675,996 USD)

Year Built: 1957

Architect: Ron Thom

Footprint: 1,843 square feet (2 bedrooms, 2 baths)

Lot Size: 0.28 Acres

From the Agent: “A Frank Lloyd Wright–inspired masterpiece, The Carmichael House stands as one of Ron Thom’s most distinctive works. This rare expression of organic modernism is seamlessly set into a forested mountainside, just 15 minutes from downtown Vancouver. Designed on a hexagonal grid, the home abandons conventional right angles in favor of expansive sight lines and a seamless connection to its surroundings. Fully remastered and move-in ready, this architectural landmark offers a rare alternative to high-rise living—a home that elevates rather than confines.”