My interest in furniture goes back to when I was 10 years old. My godfather used to work for the office furniture company Herman Miller and he introduced me to the Powers of Ten film made by the experimental furniture designers Charles and Ray Eames (in which, starting from a view of the entire universe, the camera slowly zooms in until we see the subatomic particles on a man's hand). At the time I don't even think I knew what I was looking at, but I was hooked.
This Victorian house in Brixton also functions as a showroom for the furniture collection I design, so it looks different from season to season. I like seeing it change. Every time I design a new piece we think we won't want to replace it, then we get excited about the next new thing and it keeps moving on like that. It's good seeing things progress.
As a designer I've become synonymous with wooden pieces, although I work with other materials too. Wood brings warmth to a room; the shelving alone changes the mood in this sitting-room. The side-tables are made from coppiced hazel wood – each pole is individually sourced from the forest, then cleaned up and pinned together.
I make miniature wooden maquettes of all my pieces first, some of which are on the shelves. I am under strict instructions to save them all for my one-year-old's doll's house – it's going to be the most stylish around.
The sofas are my designs, although my wife Oona chose the fabrics. I would have played it much safer with grey linen, but she found these wonderful bold floral prints that make the pieces. People always think you have to go for neutrals with big pieces but good design stands the test of time regardless. The smaller sofa I am sitting on is covered in a 1940s print we found in Sweden, but it looks perfectly contemporary in this context.
Early in my career I worked as a design assistant for Terence Conran, which was the apprenticeship of a lifetime. The teapot beneath the Patrick Caulfield lithograph is one of my pieces from that period. I never got one, so the other day when we realised we needed a teapot, I went to the Conran shop and bought it myself. The wooden piece next to it was a present from my wife – it's an original Eames leg splint. It's odd, but I love it.
My biggest indulgence for the house is artwork, but my tastes exceed my budget. The colour-block painting was a Christmas present I made for my wife. It was an interesting exercise in colour balance, as it looks simple but was actually very tricky to get the combination exactly right to make it special. The painting of the eggs was a 30th birthday gift from my mother, who is a painter. I like it as it is so calm and considered. There's something about the ordered line of the eggs.