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From the early years of the twentieth century until well into the 1930s Paris was the epicentre of a design movement that aimed to redefine the decorative arts in a very modern and particularly French way. The passing of time has done nothing to diminish its allure. Chris Yeo delves deeper.

Now, as we know, the French have a long and proud history in the decorative arts – they virtually invented the idiom – but, more than any other, there’s one style that encapsulates le style Francais. You might know it as Art Deco. The French called it Moderne. Ah, Art Deco. Just mention it and images of sleek ocean liners, peopled by impossibly beautiful characters wearing Cartier jewels and sipping Manhattan cocktails spring to mind. Or maybe it’s the futuristic styling of Max Sterm’s Metropolis or even the gaudy delights of the Odeon cinema – those streamlined and chrome-plated ‘peoples’ palaces’ that brought Hollywood glamour to the depression-ravaged masses of the 1930s. Art Deco emerged as a style for the new century and an ever-changing, fast-paced world of motor cars, air travel, flappers, and syncopated jazz. It’s the style of the Chrysler building, of the Zigfeld Follies and, as it happens, Victoria Coach Station; an intoxicating mix that continues to beguile us as much as it did in the Roaring Twenties.

Art Deco | Lorfords Antiques

Has there ever been a style more luxurious, glamorous, more imitated and, perhaps, less understood? Let’s start with the name. ‘Art Deco’ was actually only first coined in the late 1960s as a sort of two-hander to Art Nouveau which had preceded it. Also, far from being a single recognisable style, there were, in fact, many different strands, depending on when and where it popped up.

Italy, Sweden and, of course, America all had their own particular ‘takes’ on it. But nowhere did the style emerge more coherently than in France. Many books will tell you that Art Deco first surfaced at the Exposition Internationale des Arts Decoratifs et Industriels Modernes, the world expo held in Paris in 1925. Except that it didn’t. The Moderne style actually began to appear in France much earlier, around 1910 and was well into its stride by the time of the exhibition.

So, having de-bunked a couple of myths, let’s look at what is it that makes French Art Deco, sorry, Moderne, so distinctive. It’s all down to time and place. The French interpretation of the style was extremely luxurious, relying on rare and exotic materials like Macassar, ebony, lacquer, shagreen and mother-of-pearl, to give a sheen of glamour. As the centre of the world’s luxury goods market, Parisian designers were well-placed to take advantage of the readiness of these materials and could also draw on the world-leading expertise that Parisian craftsmen had in working them.

So much for place, as for time, le Style Moderne sought inspiration not from the modern industrial world, instead, it looked back in time to the world of Marie Antoinette and the French aristocracy. For a style so synonymous with the twentieth century, the French Moderne style is firmly rooted in the grand traditions of the 18th Century ancien régime – the political and social system of France before the revolution of 1789 – and its time-honoured traditions of apprenticeship and guild training.

During the 18th Century, France established itself in the forefront of the luxury trades, producing furniture, porcelain, glass, metalwork and textiles of unsurpassed refinement and elegance with Paris becoming the style capital of the western world. The ebenistes of Paris became the acknowledged masters of furniture making in Europe, supplying the homes and chateaux of the French court and aristocracy.

Some of the most beautiful and refined furniture ever made, displaying the highest level of artistic and technical ability, was created in Paris during the eighteenth century. Rather than breaking with tradition, the great designers of the 1920s saw themselves as inheritors of a grand tradition stretching back over two centuries. Tradition, however, was not the only source of inspiration. So too were the exotic, avant-garde trends in the fine arts and fashion. The vogue for exoticism developed following the arrival in Paris of the Russian impresario Sergei Diaghilev and his dance troupe, the Ballets Russes, in 1909, with its wildly atmospheric and outré productions. Léon Bakst’s design for Schéhérezade (1910), for example, featured lavish orientalist sets and costumes. The unexpected colour combinations, vivid patterns and louche furnishings – billowing curtains, low-slung divans, piles of tasselled pillows – were immediately imitated in stylish interiors by Paris artist-decorators.

Art Deco | Lorfords AntiquesParis in the 1920s had an abundance of places where objects in the Moderne style were sold and displayed, mostly galleries, showrooms and shops on the more voguish Right Bank of the city centre. What were called Ensemblier showrooms, such as those of Emille-Jacques Ruhlmann, Süe et Mare and Martine, not only displayed individual pieces for sale but presented fully furnished interiors that suggested the range of what the ensemblier could produce on commission. At the more accessible end of the market, the four big Paris department stores established specialised decorating departments and many speciality shops, including Jean Luce, La Crémaillère and Le Grand Dépôt, which sold a wide range of glass, ceramics, linens and other utilitarian and decorative goods. It was as if Moderne had entered the DNA of the French capital.

For those in search of the Moderne style, Paris is, of course, a mere hop and skip over the channel but for a taste of the style that’s a little closer to home, Eltham Palace near Greenwich is a capsule of 1930s Parisian-inspired sophistication. Stephen and Virginia Courtauld of the eponymous textiles dynasty bought Eltham with its semi-ruined medieval Great Hall, moat and bridge, and rebuilt it as a dazzlingly sophisticated semi-rural hideaway. The saloon is a vast Moderne interior, lined with Australian black bean wood panelling, topped with a dome and finished off with a vast, circular, abstract carpet, the effect is like entering the First Class Lounge of a 1930s liner. Not that everyone felt that at the time: one editorial in The Times likened it to a cigarette factory.

The stock market crash of 1929 saw the optimism of the 1920s gradually decline. By the mid-1930s, Art Deco was being derided as a gaudy, false image of luxury. Despite its demise, however, Art Deco made a fundamental impact on subsequent design. Art Deco's widespread application and enduring influence prove that its appeal is based on more than visual allure alone.

Vive la France!


Click here to visit our lookbook 'Iconic Geometry' for our take on an Art Deco inspired interior.

Or click here to shop our full collection of Art Deco pieces.

Onlookers all over the world have long admired the French art de vivre. The French bistro is a core part of this 'art of living,' alongside their leading fashion houses and pâtisseries. Although modest in price and relaxed in atmosphere, bistros are effortlessly chic. 

French bistro antiques Defining the French bistro

The French bistro’s cultural significance extends far beyond the food. Indeed, these establishments are as much a part of Parisian culture as the Eiffel Tower or Notre Dame. That’s the argument of those who want them to be awarded intangible cultural heritage status by UNESCO. For loyal customers, their regular bistro offers comfort and authenticity. This is especially important amidst the rise of big chains and gentrification.

Bistros sit somewhere between a café and a restaurant. They have a relaxed atmosphere and serve moderately priced food, wine and coffee throughout the day and evening. We recognise them for their courtyards and terraces, crowded with small circular tables and folding chairs. Yet, the bistro is so much more than the sum of its parts.

These spaces have acted as melting pots throughout history, bringing together people from all walks of life. You will find a close relationship between owners and customers, with diners often returning on a daily basis. They have served as writing meccas; the famous Les Deux Magots attracted Hemingway and Sartre amongst other literary greats. Their walls have overheard fevered discussions on politics, philosophy, romance and gossip.

Today, bistros are a spot for dining alone, with close friends, or for making new acquaintances. They are a people-watching haven, with seats arranged side by side rather than opposing, so everyone can take in the bustle of the cobbled street. Aside from anything else, the French bistro is a major social institution. So, where did this vast cultural legacy begin?

The start of the French restaurant scene

French café culture sprung from social upheavals and entrepreneurialism. The French revolution and the industrial revolution solidified the bistro concept we know today. This is not to say that restaurants didn’t exist before, however. The oldest Parisian café is thought to be Café Procope, which opened in the early 1600s. It was defined by its small tables with marble tops – now staples of French bistro style. Voltaire was rumoured to drink around 40 cups of coffee a day in this famous café.

Nonetheless, before the French revolution there were estimated to be fewer than 50 restaurants in the city. When the households of the rich were dispersed following the revolution, lots of talented chefs were left looking for work. Many returned to their home villages, whilst others flocked to the poorer parts of cities and towns. It was these individuals, through their changing fortunes, who became the first French bistro and restaurant chefs. The impact was major; one French travel guide listed 3,000 dining options in the city in 1814.

French bistro antiques

The bistro concept evolves

The bistro concept would continue to evolve in light of new advances. In their infancy, bistros were very modest and informal in comparison to the grand Paris restaurants. Indeed, some early bistros started with landlords, who already offered board to tenants, opening to the paying public too.

Bistros operated on a menu of about four or five dishes that could be prepared in large quantities and ahead of time, such as cassoulet, confit, or stew. They would serve some wine, usually from a barrel rather than a bottle. The bistro has evolved, but its core principles have remained more or less unchanged. The name itself supposedly came from the Russian and Cossack officers who occupied Paris in 1814. These unruly men would bang on restaurant tables, yelling bistro! (quickly!) at the long-suffering servers.

Not all cultural developments came out of war and revolution, however. In the 1800s, courtyard and sidewalk bistro seating really took off. This was down to the urban planning of one Baron Haussman, who designed wide boulevards with spacious pedestrianised pavements. The bistro started to expand onto the street – now a crucial part of its culture.

Later, the jollities of the Belle Époque saw bistros become more decorative to suit the zeitgeist. Indeed, plenty of wonderful mirrors and glassware survive from this period. However, it was the industrial revolution that really transformed the bistro in one defining aspect – the furniture.

French bistro chairs

French bistro furniture

Bistros are at the humbler end of France’s art de vivre, in comparison to, say, the Christian Dior flagship store. Nonetheless, the French taste for finer things required bistro furniture to be attractive as well as functional.

Marble-topped tables remain an emblem of French bistro furniture. Industrial revolution brought decorative iron bases to these tables, often with cross-stretchers so that you could fold them away at the end of the day. You find plenty of wrought-iron chairs, too, but styles varied depending on the bistro’s personal aesthetic.

The names behind the designs

Bistro chairs and tables are not just mass-produced functional pieces, but often important pieces of design too. For example, Thonet’s bistro chair, designed in 1859, is an industry icon. He made it using just six pieces of wood, held together by two nuts and ten screws. Not only was it in high demand for bistros, but it also won a gold prize for design excellence at the Paris Exhibition in 1869.

Articulated furniture was widely sought after. By stacking away courtyard furniture at the end of the day, business owners could avoid paying the rent for a fixed terrace. Manufacturers like Fermob led the way in producing this furniture en masse. Fermob's bistro collections still follow Edouard Leclerc’s 1889 ‘Simpex’ patent to this day. This metal folding chair has become a staple, spotted everywhere you go in France and elsewhere in the world.

Exotic woods were coveted in Europe during the 19th Century. Rattan became a prevalent material for bistro furniture, with its lightness and durability ideal for outdoor use. Maison Louis Drucker, founded in Paris in 1885, were the main producers of rattan bistro furniture. The company is still in operation today and a stalwart of fine French craftsmanship.

Keeping it personal

Regardless of style and material, bistro furniture provided an opportunity for branding. So many beautiful eateries line the streets of France, clamouring for the attention of passers-by. Lots of bistros adopted a signature look to help them stand out on these busy sidewalks. Some furniture sets were very ornate and others much more pared back. Some show remains of old vibrant paint, whilst others kept the wood or iron bare. Whilst some examples may feature the name of the bistro painted on, others might have incorporated a logo or name into the wood or metalwork itself.

French antique lantern

Bringing the bistro style to you

When customers returned to the terraces of Parisian bistros after French lockdowns, the heart of the city was restored. It is hard to capture the spirit of these social hubs, but you can bring the French bistro style closer to home. Because bistro furniture sets have been prevalent since the 19th Century, many antique examples survive. Furniture companies today seek to replicate this iconic style - a testament to its longevity - but you can’t beat the character of the originals.

Wonderful indoors or out, marble-topped bistro tables and folding chairs suit a range of styles. They are particularly useful when you have an influx of guests and need a few more seats. To truly transport yourself across the channel, use bistro mirrors and signage indoors. Outdoors, create your own Parisian courtyard with a few sets of bistro tables and chairs and antique lanterns. Bistro glassware has a classic timeless aesthetic, without the airs and graces.

Visit our lookbook 'French bistro chic' to spark your imagination. You can browse all of our bistro style antiques on our website.

If you love all things French, read our articles on collecting confit pots and Arras iron furniture.

The Arts & Crafts movement touched every corner of the design world. From furniture to textiles to jewellery, designers adopted a holistic approach to manufacture. At the very heart of every surviving piece is the craftsman himself.

Another cog in the machine

Vintage engraving from 1860 of a jacquard weaving machine.

By the end of the 19th Century, the industrial revolution had utterly transformed Western society. Industries boomed as new technologies emerged, and handicrafts dwindled. Vast factories emerged to accommodate these changes, and productivity and efficiency were the new watchwords.

The industrial revolution brought many elements of our lives today into fruition. In lots of ways, this was a momentous step forwards. Society underwent a dramatic change and standards of living improved for many. However, it was not so for those on the frontline of machine-led production.

The underbelly of factory work was tedious, gruesome, and dangerous. Unskilled labour was in high demand because the process required scores of workers to perform repetitive tasks. Certainly, the skilled craftsman conceiving, designing, and producing a piece became mere nostalgia.

The counter-revolutionHeals armchairs, Gordon Russell bookcases, Arts & Crafts furniture

Fine art is that in which the hand, the head, and the heart of man go together.

For some thinkers, critics, and designers, these developments were unsettling. John Ruskin was a vocal art critic in the second half of the 19th Century. He claimed a link between poor design standards and poor social health in England. Ruskin suggested a return to handicraft: 'fine art is that in which the hand, the head, and the heart of man go together.' This idea that art serves a moral purpose would later become a fundamental principle of the Arts & Crafts movement.

Let's go back to 1851, the year of the highly anticipated Crystal Palace exhibition in London. This exhibition celebrated the finest corners of Victorian design and pieces from as far away as India. It was a majestic display of talent and wondrous furniture, but it also exposed the excesses of industrialisation. A nauseating range of revival styles was on display, and much of it was heavy-duty furniture that was rich with ornament. It was no coincidence, then, that the following years of the 1850s sowed the seeds for a different sort of revolution.

The pre-Raphaelite brotherhoodArts & Crafts furniture

Excitement about machine-led production side-lined the decorative arts, and discontent mounted. The antidote to this artificial excess was a return to medievalism. The gothic was a popular Victorian revival style, and reformers hailed 16th Century methods. In his 1851 text, The Stones of Venice, John Ruskin praises gothic architecture and saw its roughness as evidence of the craftsman’s personality and freedom.

Pugin was another gothic advocate, and he believed in the importance of a piece's construction. He was in favour of exposing joints and other methods in the manner of a Medieval carpenter. This school of thought found its voice in the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood, formed in 1848.

Among the group's members were Dante Gabriel Rossetti, William Morris, and Ford Madox Brown. The Pre-Raphaelites opposed the High Renaissance, which they saw as frivolous and insincere. Instead, they sought moral seriousness and integrity, and this group was in many ways a precursor to the Arts & Crafts movement.

Madox Brown was one of the first to transfer the group’s shared ideals about design into furniture. He shared Pugin’s vision of flat surfaces and linear profiles that had more in common with Medieval carpentry than refined 18th Century cabinet-making.

Arts & Crafts establishedArts & Crafts copper lantern and Gordon Russell bookcases

Arts & Crafts societies sprung up to centralise this growing group of individuals. The biggest of these, the Arts & Crafts Exhibition Society, was formed in 1888. This society held regular shows up to and beyond its 50th anniversary in 1938. They gave the decorative arts a stage and spread the beauty of Arts & Crafts. In 1960, the society merged with the Cambridgeshire Guild of Craftsmen to form the Society of Designer Craftsmen which is still active today.

There was a strong sense of community amongst these different organisations. 'The best tastes are to be found in those manufacturers and fabrics wherein handicraft is entirely or partially the means of producing the ornament.' These words of Richard Redgrave, a prominent reformer at the London School of Design, describe their shared sentiment. Significantly, many of the early members of this movement were architects. This meant that they held a shared interest in the gesamtkunstwerk- the 'total work of art.' For example, Charles Voysey was foremost an architect and then a major contributor to Arts & Crafts furniture and textiles.

Exhibitions put Arts & Crafts on display for all to see and escalated the movement. Journals such as The Studio helped to spread the word internationally. America's own movement was well underway, but with a slightly different approach. Unlike UK reformers, US practitioners were indifferent to the machine. They saw it merely as another tool at the craftsman’s disposal and necessary for commercial success. Under Gustav Stickley the American 'mission style' emerged. The mission style used sturdy oak and promoted democratic values, but Stickley was more than happy to use machinery to produce the furniture.

William Morris

Have nothing in your houses that you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful.

Arts & Crafts candlestick and Gordon Russell bookcases

Although he was already a prolific designer, William Morris only became fully involved with Arts & Crafts later on. Nonetheless, his influence was monumental and he played a central role at the beginning of the Arts & Crafts heyday in the 1880s. His focus was on a return to small-scale workshops, whereby the craftsmen involved could oversee the design process from beginning to end. The Medieval Guilds inspired Morris and offered a model for the personalised craftsmanship that he craved.

As an upper-class man himself, the impact of the factory system on the working classes shocked Morris. He drew on Ruskin’s teachings and shared his nostalgia for a pre-industrial world. Morris loved nature, and flora and fauna are front and centre of the 50+ wallpaper designs he produced over his career. The designer realised that to live in his perfect home, he would have to design every aspect of it himself. His famous Red House embodies his trademark quote: ‘Have nothing in your houses that you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful.’

Arts & Crafts design principlesGordon Russell bookcases, antique copper jugs

Designers wanted to create furniture that was useful to ordinary people and free from fussy decoration. Nonetheless, this movement was about reviving the decorative arts and aesthetics were still important. But crucially, designers did away with the ‘artificial’ ornamentation that had been front and centre of the Great Exhibition.

The Arts & Crafts umbrella was wide-ranging, but the majority of designs are united by a few simple features. Tables, chairs, and cupboards would have rectilinear shape and rely on simple vertical forms. The construction was a return to basics and most joints exhibit mortise-and-tenon or dovetail joinery. Arts & Crafts practitioners were unconcerned with hiding hinges or other aspects of a piece's mechanism. The movement proved that practical and aesthetic elements could happily coexist in design.

Engraving of the Crystal Palace, which housed the Great Exhibition of 1851

19th Century engraving showing the interior of the Crystal Palace in London, UK, which housed the Great Exhibition of 1851.

Substance over style

Craftsmen preferred darker woods, such as stained oak. They would use the wood itself as an aesthetic factor, with the grain, flecks, and rays often on display. It was not always solid wood, and some craftsmen took a more decorative approach than others. Some pieces might exhibit veneers and intricate carvings, but these elements never sacrifice the piece's utilitarian value.

The ‘through tenon’ provided another decorative touch, whereby the tenon extends through the mortised piece and projects out of the other side. Craftsmanship itself is visible in the end product of an Arts & Crafts piece, in a way that had formerly been lost to the machine. ‘Truth to materials’ was the mantra, and the results had a sense of integrity.

Upholstery would involve leather or simple cloth, in order to keep the overall look as plain as possible. Hand-sanding and pigment-staining gave pieces of furniture the best possible finish. Hand-rubbing exposed the different layers in the wood and began a piece's journey to having a wonderful patina.

The Arts & Crafts legacyArts & Crafts furniture in a living room setting

In the cities, Arts & Crafts gathered momentum through exhibitions and print promotions. Soon, the philosophy turned into commercial success. Designers forged good working relationships with manufacturers who could sell their wares. William Morris set up Morris & Co in 1875. The major Oxford Street store stocked other designers too, and they also sold through Liberty and Heals. Suddenly, the Arts & Crafts movement was reaching a much wider audience and it moved into the mainstream. It was the dominant design force in Britain up until the 1910s, and its influence spread across Europe, America, and Japan.

At the turn of the 20th Century, Arts & Crafts migrated out of the city and into the countryside. Lots of the designers celebrated simple rural ideals and the rolling hills naturally held great allure. Workshops sprung up across Britain, and many designers settled in the Cotswolds. These workshops became their own schools of sorts and each had its own take on design.

Sturdy structure, compelling patina, and timeless aesthetic appeal. These are just some of the qualities offered by Arts & Crafts designers. From cupboards to metalwork, every piece has the social history of this movement behind it. We are privileged to have the Arts & Crafts legacy around us in the Cotswolds. Our dealers are always sourcing Arts & Crafts gems so that we have wonderful pieces in stock. Our collection includes big names and makers, from iconic Heal's pieces to Gordon Russell's fantastic works. Visit our lookbook, 'Truth to Materials,' to explore a sample.

The Regency was the pinnacle of British sophistication and a pivotal period in design. It was a time of fascinating architecture and elegant furniture, but the influences in this period were far from straightforward.

The Prince RegentRegency furniture - bookcase, armchair, table

At the heart of the Regency was the Prince Regent himself. In 1810, George III became seriously ill and was deemed mentally unfit to rule. The Regency Act was passed the following year, which allowed his son to rule on his behalf. Technically speaking, this period is the nine years that George IV was Regent. 1820, the Prince Regent became George IV and King in his own right.

But in reality, Regency style and design was more enduring and covered more or less the first 30 years of the 19th Century. Nonetheless, it is rightly seen as a reflection of the character of the Prince Regent. He reacted against the frugality of his upbringing under his father, George III, with extravagance. George IV was seen as a hedonistic and gluttonous young man, ridiculed by cartoonists at the time.

The concept of The Grand Tour and broadening one's horizons was long gone. Britain was suffering a trade blockade due to its war with France, so young men wined and dined in London’s most prestigious venues. The ‘dandy’ emerged, and these men modelled themselves on the styles of the Prince Regent.

Yet, even more so than food and women, George’s great passion in life was building, designing and collecting. The Prince Regent spent the first few years of his reign commissioning vast amounts of furniture. The interests of the Regent, as well as the wider context of the Napoleonic wars, help us to make sense of the paradoxes of Regency style.

The eccentric Royal Pavilion in Brighton, as well the Prince’s city residence Carlton House, were two iconic expressions of Regency style.

Empire styleRegency armchair, Regency table, Regency bookcase

Regency coincided with Empire style across the channel in France. Napoleon’s successful campaigns in Egypt meant that Egyptian motifs frequented French furniture. The Prince Regent wanted to match, if not surpass, the architecture and design of his rival.

Neoclassical design was very much in vogue already, but Regency designers followed classical precedent in a far more prescriptive sense. They did away with the fussy ornamentation of Adam style and stayed true to classic simplicity of form.

Exact copies of ancient Greek, Roman and Egyptian pieces were made and classical motifs were incorporated into Regency furniture. Regency brings to mind heavy wood and this was certainly the heyday of mahogany and rosewood. There was a newfound appreciation for surface and beautiful patinas, particularly the bold figuring of exotic timbers.

Regency prioritised straight elegant lines and beautiful sabre or concave legs. The period did away with marquetry and intricate carving, preferring brass metalwork for ornamentation.

But no single set of characteristics can define Regency. In fact, it was a melting pot of foreign and home influences. It was refined British elegance juxtaposed against extravagance. Many styles were revived or imported. There is undoubtedly a strong oriental influence in Regency furniture. Chinoiserie and japanning were popular, Indian styles were copied and bamboo surged.

The Regency architectsRegency portrait, Regency vase, Regency chest of drawers

So, who were the main players in this design revolution?

The strong classical influence on the Regency period was fuelled by new publications about classical art and architecture. Thomas Hope published Household Furniture and Interior Decoration in 1807, which was full of classical designs inspired by his extensive travels. The ideas in this book would have a profound influence on Regency style.

Hope wasn't alone, though. The architect Henry Holland sent designers to Rome to make drawings of classical objects. These were published in the book, Etchings of Ancient Ornamental Architecture, in 1799-80. Thomas Sheraton’s Cabinet Dictionary of 1803 shows Grecian couches, which introduced the daybed into Regency Britain. Animal motifs and ‘sabre’ design legs were engraved in this book- features that would become the distinctive characteristics of Regency furniture.

It is impossible to mention Regency without the name John Nash. Nash was court architect to George IV and their visions were very much aligned. With his remodelling of the Royal Pavilion in Brighton, Nash realised the Prince Regent’s dream of a lavish palace in the oriental style. This extraordinary building is clearly influenced by Indian and Chinese styles. Nash was also the brains behind modern day Regent Street and the terraces of Regent’s Park.

Furniture manufacturers of the time were eager to embrace this new style. Renowned cabinet makers Gillows led the charge, incorporating Regency traits including lion paws and reeded carving into their finely crafted pieces.

The Regency legacy

Furniture from this period is highly sought after and has a lasting legacy. Regency chairs are particularly renowned, with their crested rails, low curved backs, brass inlay and sabre legs. By the end of the period, cotton or linen upholstery became the norm and chintz flourished. The Prince Regent loved dining in style and prioritised these spaces in his homes. Because of this opulent attitude to dining, you can discover wonderful sets of Regency dining chairs.

Furniture companies began making lots of tables made for specific purposes. For example, extendable tables, nests of tables, kidney tables, sofa tables and side tables were all produced throughout the period. Regency tables are often round and pedestal bases with tripod legs are common.

However, it wasn't all about furniture and mirrors were a significant feature of Regency style. Circular convex mirrors were particularly prominent in this age, copied from France and seen as a symbol of wealth. These mirrors were supposedly put in dining rooms so that butlers could keep an eye on the progression of guests through each course. Indeed, convex mirrors were so popular in Regency England that they are the only type of mirror to be listed in the mirror section of Sheraton's Cabinet Dictionary. However, you also find beautiful overmantle mirrors from the Regency age.

Regency style has lasting attraction. It is full of unique features and yet still inherently classic. As a result, the architecture and design of this period is very influential and reflects socio-political movements.

The Lorfords collection Regency Worcester Porcelain vase on top of chest of drawers

Regency furniture is a delight to have in your home and new pieces are always coming through the doors here at Lorfords. Come and visit us in our hangars at Babdown Airfield and our Tetbury shop to see these pieces in all their glory.

Visit our lookbook, 'Regency flair,' to browse some of the Regency furniture we house.

He was the creator of era-defining textiles, a writer whose ground breaking ideas forever changed how we think about our homes and, according to a recent study, a peddler of poisonous wallpaper.  “Antiques Roadshow” expert Chris Yeo asks “Will the real William Morris please stand up?”

When William Morris (1834-1896) died at the age of sixty-two, his physician declared that the cause was "simply being William Morris, and having done more work than most ten men." We know him best for his easy-on-the-eye textiles with their scrolling leaves and biscuit cutter birds. The designer of patterns such as Willow Bough and Strawberry Thief, his is the face that launched a thousand National Trust tea towels. We probably think that that’s all there is to know about Morris: move along, nothing more to see here, but we’d be wrong. This multi-faceted man was at one time or another (and sometimes simultaneously) a designer and manufacturer of furniture, wallpaper and fabrics, stained glass, and tapestries; an accomplished weaver; successful businessman; a pioneering preservationist; an active Socialist and social reformer; a successful poet and novelist; and in his last years, the founder of the Kelmscott Press. We see him in photographs with tousled hair and wild, unkempt beard; part Byron, part Marx. His passionate belief that everyone should surround themselves with beauty revolutionised the way we think about our homes and his influence went well beyond these shores. If these days he’s known as a pattern designer in his own lifetime he was actually better known for his writing. Morris was a revolutionary force in Victorian Britain – the original Angry Young Man whose rages against the shortcomings and injustices of the world changed the fashions and ideologies of the era but is life was filled with paradoxes. He was obsessed with the medieval,  but he also had a socialist vision of the future. He’s considered by many to be the spiritual Godfather of modern Socialism and a champion of worker rights yet he died a multi-millionaire and was a part owner of the world’s largest arsenic mine.  Will the real William Morris please stand up?

Morris was born in Walthamstow, east London in 1834. The financial success of his broker father led to the family moving in 1840 to Woodford hall, a large house in rural Essex, as well as providing young William with an inheritance large enough to mean he would never have to concern himself with the tedious business of earning an income. Morris enjoyed an idyllic childhood growing up in the countryside, exploring local parkland and churches and immersing himself in the novels of Walter Scott, helping him develop an affinity with the natural world and historical romance. William was a privileged boy, but had a mind of his own. He a was forced to leave Marlborough College in 1851 following a “rebellion” but still made it to Exeter College, Oxford in 1853. He first planned to become a clergyman but, following a trip to northern France and inspired by the gothic architecture he saw, opted for architecture. Morris was a rebel by nature and one, very much, with a cause: ugliness. We all know his famous dictum Have nothing in your houses that you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful. For Morris this was nothing short of a battle cry against poor taste. What started him on his crusade was what he saw as the sheer tackiness of the Great Exhibition in 1851. This colossal event, staged in the specially built Crystal Palace in Hyde Park, had been intended to display the best of British manufacturing, a dazzling showcase for the Workshop of the World. For Morris it was neo-Renaissance, neo-everything nightmare of poor design and shabby art. Tales of the teenage Morris’s visit to the Crystal Palace are legion and range from the strange to the ridiculous – my favourite being that Morris was so appalled by the poor taste on show that he staggered from the building and was sick in the bushes.

For Morris shoddiness was a punishable offence; ‘Shoddy is King’ he railed, ‘From the statesman to the shoemaker, everything is shoddy’. From that point on he dedicated his life to creating useful and beautiful objects for the modern home.

While working in Oxford Morris had a chance meeting with a local stableman's daughter, Jane Burden. Consciously flouting the rules of class, Morris married Jane in 1859. Morris and Jane moved into Red House, their home in rural Kent, the following year. Morris wanted his home to be a ‘small palace of art’ Unhappy with what was on offer commercially, spent the next two years furnishing and decorating the interior with help from members of their artistic circle. And what friends: Edward Burne-Jones, Dante Gabrielle Rosetti, Ford Maddox Brown. As George Martin was to the Beatles, so Morris was to the Pre-Raphaelites; the unofficial eighth member. It was at Red House that Morris began to find his forte - he was, in truth, an abysmal architect and a lousy painter, but he had an affinity with interiors. At heart, he was a pattern-maker, taking his inspiration from the English countryside to create the patterns that made him famous.  Having decided to branch into textiles, he apprenticed himself to a dyer's workshop in order to "learn the practice of dying at every pore" even going as far as grinding his own pigments. Over the course of two decades Morris produced over 600 chintzes, woven textiles and hand-blocked wallpapers. They were distinctive for their soft, flat colours, their stylised natural forms, their symmetry and their sense of order. His patterns were revolutionary at the time, and quite at odds with prevailing mainstream fashion.

Having gained a taste for interiors, and the experience of 'joy in collective labour', Morris and his friends decided in 1861 to set up their own mega-design partnership: Morris, Marshall, Faulkner & Co, later re-named Morris and Company, but nicknamed ‘The Firm’ by William.  It was virtually a Pre-Raphaelite co-operative with £1 share contributions from Burne-Jones, Rosetti and Brown. From its London headquarters the Firm issued a selection of carefully crafted household items, painted furniture, metalwork, pottery, carpets and cushions. All were guaranteed to have been created by an expert hand using artisanal – the word still meant something – methods.

Morris was a radical thinker of his day;  a prolific poet, author, publisher, campaigner and socialist reformer; “Apart from the desire to produce beautiful things, the leading passion of my life has been and is hatred of modern civilization”, he said.  By the 1860s skilled workmanship was being replaced by machines. He was a dedicated socialist, and wrote passionately about the growing gap between rich and poor, which had been intensely accelerated by industrialisation. Morris saw salvation in a return to a medieval craft-based society, one where happy, contended workers would produce objects with integrity. If this is sounding at all familiar we need only look to the nearest artisan hipster baker or be-whiskered craft brewer. Although Morris preached passionately for the return of the medieval craft ethic, his objection was – contrary to what you’re likely to read elsewhere - not so much to machine production as to poor workmanship. He loathed mass-production but understood its place in society. In fact his first registered design was a trellis of African marigolds for machine-made linoleum. William Morris lino, who would have guessed?

The most ironic aspect of Morris’s aims was that, although he aimed to make good design available to all (‘I do not want art for the few, any more than freedom for the few…’), ultimately his own furnishings — made painstakingly by hand using the best natural materials — were typically too expensive for anyone but the wealthy industrialists Morris hated.

Morris was a founding father of the Socialist movement and a champion of workers’ rights. He   campaigned against many things, banning arsenic in wallpaper was not one of them. Arsenic was a major component in wallpaper manufacture and by the 1870s, when Morris was at the height of his fame, its ill effects were becoming well-known. Morris  inherited his fortune from an arsenic mine in which he still held stock for a number of years. By the 1870s, the Morris family’s Devon mine was reportedly producing over half the world’s supply of arsenic. And while he did ultimately divest his interests in the company, questions on Morris’s apparent hypocrisy—and why he never actually visited these notoriously bad workplaces—casts something of a shadow over his right-on credentials.

Happily, this is the Lorfords blog, so we can leave the politics at the door. In design terms William Morris was a true visionary whose influence was felt well-beyond his own lifetime. With his hands-on philosophy he pioneered the idea of the artist-craftsman and his designs helped to lay the foundations for the modern movement. Today, we find ourselves returning to many of Morris’s preoccupations with craft skills and the environment, with local sourcing and vernacular traditions. But perhaps his greatest legacy was his avowed belief that, rich or poor, male or female, aesthetic beauty should be a central feature of everybody’s life and home.