Giving Pre-Loved a new life
Animal Instinct
There is a VHS tape somewhere of three year old me, attempting to ride on Rocky, the family German Shepherd. I grew up around dogs, and grew up knowing that I wanted to come home to one that I could call my own. While navigating the London renting system in my 20s, that dream was almost impossible. Notwithstanding pet intolerant landlords, I was also messy.
Very messy.
My early 20s was marred by fun (ish) memories of stumbling home at 4am, glitter in my hair, kebab in one hand, and many a one star Uber rating. So I convinced myself that if I cannot get a dog, I could get myself something that reminds me of a dog. Might not be the real thing, but hey, it was as good as it can get.
I moved out from a university flat share situation, into my own space in Zone 3 of East London on the heels of a big boy city job, and did what every rookie did and got myself the bachelor deluxe: a sofa, a dining table set and a bed. All flat packed.
With the money saved, I set out to get some creature comforts.
My first plaything was a statue of a Foo Dog from a North London vintage market. Just the one. Not the pair. It annoyed me to no end that it did not come in a pair. Foo Dogs are meant to come as a pair: one male, one female, both representing different aspects of the family home.I bought him anyway.
I still remember telling myself, given the Foo dog’s now lost symbolism, it would be like adopting a dog that no one wanted and that I could give it a loving home. And over the years, before I had the privilege of having my own furry best friend, Casper, I collected what you could only describe as a menagerie of animal motif decor.

In addition to my lone Foo Dog, I have found a beautiful horse head Bitossi, a bird shaped vide poche from Jonathan Adler and many fish shaped dishes from Vallauris. Some vintage, some contemporary, all collected with some sentimentality.

Spot the other animals he resides with.
Animals, undoubtedly, provide us some form of comfort. A reminder that we coexist, and that we need each other. Lalanne famously produced a flock of sheep shaped chairs.
Walter Bosse created some playful hedgehogs and cats for displaying your best jewellery, and more recently at Milan Fashion Week, Bottega Veneta’s Spring 2025 runway showcased animal themed beanies that are to die for.


Now, in my career as an interior designer, I tend to bring up this idea of having some anthropomorphic motif in their space. It becomes very evident who grew up with animals and who did not. Or perhaps more importantly, family pet aside, who has a sense of humour or not.
And what’s the point of designing a beautiful space without a sense of the whimsical? Or the surreal?
Life is too short to create your space without a healthy dose of daydreaming.
Thinking about buying a zoo? Maybe try one of these:



Vistosi table lamp in Murano glass (1965)