A 1960s flat in west London that's a paean to mid-century style

When it comes to our homes, we British have always been somewhat wary of modernism. Bricks and mortar – not glass and concrete – suit our more traditional tendencies. Tara Nash’s grandparents were different. In the 1960s, they bought an avant-garde house on the Solent that has been the family’s holiday home ever since. It is where Tara – who began her career in fashion with Anya Hindmarch before retraining as a grief guide – discovered mid-century design. The open-plan kitchen, the Pop-art-bright tiles and the wraparound sea views were, she says, a contrast to the ‘serious and traditional’ feel of the home where she grew up.

It was why she decided to view this flat, in a distinctive 18-storey, 20th-century building in west London. ‘Original 1960s homes are such a rarity, so I was intrigued,’ she recalls. Arriving at the marble-clad lobby felt like a revelation: ‘It was like walking into a Las Vegas hotel.’ Next came the views. Through the windows of this 11th- and 12th-floor flat, London looks like a teeming toytown, its 21st-century landmarks looming on the horizon like misty blue sentinels. Then there was the decoration: white walls, brown carpet and a free-standing cooker, all seemingly unchanged since the previous owners moved in when the block was first built. ‘Everything was so outdated, it was easy to see the potential,’ says Tara.

However, professional help was required. To rekindle the post-war pizzazz of the two-storey flat, Tara turned to Natalie Tredgett, an interior designer whose buoyant aesthetic draws on art and fashion. They first met, by chance, in a vintage store, bonding over the swirly vibrancy of a 1970s dress. But there is more to their connection than nostalgia. Like Tara, Natalie is interested in the way that our homes can reflect our personalities. ‘Tara wanted to use this project to express herself and be pushed, which is rare,’ says Natalie, who set up her eponymous firm in 2012, after working for Nicky Haslam. ‘We began experimenting with splashes of colour – then it became all or nothing. We also discussed Tara’s grandparents’ home, and I could see it was a formative influence.’

The project was not without its challenges – principally, the quintessentially 1960s low ceilings. It would have been tempting, says Natalie, to use ‘the usual design tricks’ – pale colours, slivers of mirror – to introduce a loftier feel on the lower floor of the flat, which houses the open-plan sitting room and kitchen.

Counterintuitively, she did the opposite, bathing the entire space in one suffusive shade of yellow. On the ceiling, a painted sunray decoration, centred on a vintage pendant light, was inspired by an Emilio Pucci scarf. ‘I looked at how the pattern was contained within a square of the scarf and replicated it,’ says Natalie.

On every surface, contrasting textures – glossy joinery, tactile wall coverings, warm cork tiles – add to the way the atmosphere of the space changes by the hour. In the morning, the mood is bright and expansive. At night, when the velvet curtains swish shut and wall sconces glow, it has the all-enveloping glamour of a cocktail-fuelled Upper East Side party from Mad Men.

As the project unfolded, Tara and Natalie set up a shared Instagram page, like a virtual basket for images that piqued their imagination. It was Tara who chose the custom-made walnut and birch cabinetry in the compact kitchen, where a wall was removed to open up the space. The handleless design nods to the simplicity of her grandparents’ kitchen. There is not enough room for a dining table. Instead, stools are tucked under the bar that doubles as an entertaining area, lit by the softly pooled light of a mid-century lamp.

Serendipitously, Tara and Natalie both came up with the idea to transform a dreary fire door with a sprinkling of hand-painted polka dots. ‘We had been thinking of ways that we could introduce pattern. One day, an image of dots popped up in our minds,’ says Natalie. For the bathroom, it was stripes. Rows of green and white tiles are reflected in the mirrored side of the bath – ‘the smallest tub we could find in London,’ notes Tara. The mirrored doors opposite open onto the neatly stacked washing machine and dryer; the reflective surfaces add to the illusion that you have stepped straight into a graphic op-art painting.