If I lived in this apartment, I think I’d wear a lot of linen. I certainly wouldn’t wear socks. And I’d squeeze my sockless feet into snakeskin brogues. I’d get a box of toothpicks, definitely toothpicks. And I’d slick my hair back. I might sell cocaine, or I might be one of those Brazilian footballers with a deft touch and a bushy hipster beard. I’d have said to my interior designer, “go all Miami Vice, and don’t hold back”, and I’d have been mightily impressed with the results.
That designer would be São Paulo-based Fábio Galeazzo, and I’d like to think he was listening to Astrud Gilberto and drinking caipirinhas whilst he was conjuring up this tropical delight of olive hues and washed wood. Period pieces and objets de curiosité are accompanied by a young graffiti artist’s vivacious mural – providing a shock of 21st century in an oasis of 50s cool. If I kept my 100-dollar bills in a money clip, this is where I’d live.