My desk started life as a dresser – it was one of the first pieces of furniture my grandma bought when she arrived in New Zealand from Austria in the 1950s. It’s a solid mid-century piece – simple, practical, and really well made. I like to picture her sitting there getting ready for the day, the big bevelled-edge mirror behind her that’s sadly now long gone.
After years in her home, it went to my uncle and aunt, and then to me when I was about 22. By then it had been stained dark, and my Omi had added some not-so-nice retro handles at some point. My dad stripped it back and re-oiled it, and I put on new brass handles. It was one of those family projects that gave it a bit of new life while keeping its history.
It’s been with me ever since, through flats, rentals, and now our own home. For a while it was my son’s dresser, drawers full of tiny clothes. These days it’s where I work when I’m home; the drawers are full of “stuff” that I can’t seem to part with. It’s the same desk where I designed the first Ohen pieces before we had our Ponsonby studio. It’s not a big setup, but it’s where I can sit and focus. I like that it’s tucked in a quiet corner and holds a lot of sentimental value.
In keeping with the theme, the lamp is also my grandma’s, which is really special to me. Even when it’s covered in the chaos of life — usually a big pile of washing waiting to be folded — the desk still feels good to sit at. It’s solid, reliable, and has a sense of calm about it. One of those pieces that just fits wherever it ends up.
My desk started life as a dresser – it was one of the first pieces of furniture my grandma bought when she arrived in New Zealand from Austria in the 1950s. It’s a solid mid-century piece – simple, practical, and really well made. I like to picture her sitting there getting ready for the day, the big bevelled-edge mirror behind her that’s sadly now long gone.
After years in her home, it went to my uncle and aunt, and then to me when I was about 22. By then it had been stained dark, and my Omi had added some not-so-nice retro handles at some point. My dad stripped it back and re-oiled it, and I put on new brass handles. It was one of those family projects that gave it a bit of new life while keeping its history.
It’s been with me ever since, through flats, rentals, and now our own home. For a while it was my son’s dresser, drawers full of tiny clothes. These days it’s where I work when I’m home; the drawers are full of “stuff” that I can’t seem to part with. It’s the same desk where I designed the first Ohen pieces before we had our Ponsonby studio. It’s not a big setup, but it’s where I can sit and focus. I like that it’s tucked in a quiet corner and holds a lot of sentimental value.
In keeping with the theme, the lamp is also my grandma’s, which is really special to me. Even when it’s covered in the chaos of life — usually a big pile of washing waiting to be folded — the desk still feels good to sit at. It’s solid, reliable, and has a sense of calm about it. One of those pieces that just fits wherever it ends up.
Ohen
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