In the category of landmark houses, the home of Charles and Ray Eames tops my list. Built in 1949 as a live/work space for the designers, Bridge House (or Case Study House no. #8) is stunning in its sheer simplicity and functionality. “They wanted a home that would make no demands for itself,” says the Eames official site, “and would serve as a background for, as Charles said, “life in work,” with nature as a “shock absorber.”’ Today the house is run by the couple’s daughter Lucia Eames as a not-for-profit organization that preserves and celebrates her parent’s legacy. The House can be visited by appointment, and if I’m ever in L.A., it’s the first place I’d go. Well, maybe after I pop in on Rihanna.

On a small island a few hours north of the city stands an old pine cabin that was built by a family from Iowa in the 1930s. My sister-in-law and her husband bought the cabin a couple of years ago and it’s where they spend as much of the summer as they can. There’s a composting toilet, no electricity and the few appliances –– a fridge and a stove –– are from the 50s. Old recipes for corn bread and such are pinned to the walls, and the cupboards are stocked with decades-old household tools and necessities. Antique skis and a “Gone Fishing” sign hang above the tiny hallway to the bedrooms. Beyond updating the dock, they’ve kept the cabin as it always was. And It’s charming. Hanging out in a little log cabin among the stars and the lakes and the loons is a pretty lovely way to spend your summer. Lucky for us, we get to visit from time to time.

As much as I enjoy a good clash of colour and print, I also appreciate a space with deliberate links between a fabric, flower and wall colour. This bedroom, in a vibrantly decorated cottage in Tulsa, is pure joy. I love the leafy wallpaper and corresponding cushion, and I love the pop of pink against the bright green. The clean white sheet highlights the white space in the leafy textile. The bed looks narrow, so I can only assume that these colourful people are also very small.