The dining table seats 10. Dinner guests, however, are still forthcoming. “I haven’t had people over yet, because in my head it’s not done,” Dennis says. Joseph-André Motte chairs surround the table, while a 1960s Italian burlwood credenza and a Crosby Street Studios rug anchor the dining area. The living room sofas were positioned for entertaining too, although the family’s day-to-day use of the space is less formal. For Dennis’s daughters, 10 and seven, the mohair-and-wool sofa comes with ground rules: “You guys can sit on it, you can perch, but if we want to play, let’s do it elsewhere.”
The library, on the other hand, is fair game. The girls can sprawl out with a book or watch TV, though they rarely bother with the sofa. “They’re always lying on the rug,” Dennis says. She painted the walls a deep olive-green, carrying it across the ceiling for an enveloping effect. The art also takes a moodier turn, with a floral painting by Alexandria Tarver and a black-and-white self-portrait by Hazel Mphande. The primary bedroom, meanwhile, provides a brighter, quieter escape. “I always wanted to be in a cloud,” the designer says of the neutral palette. The upholstered bed, 1970s steel bench in alpaca wool, and leather-bound nightstands supply the texture.
Since the photo shoot, Dennis has switched out accessories and rearranged objects. When she recently swapped a lamp in the living room, even her husband took notice. “Another one?” he asked. At work, Dennis knows when to call a room finished. At home, she’s beginning to wonder why she should.
