
I love the New York energy, but it’s sometimes fierce. We need a gentler and more civilized life in our homes. We need them to be havens.
so glamorous,” Watson says. “I love the darkness of it.” In daylight, reflections in
the living area’s lacquered ceilings create the illusion of double-height rooms.
Other considerations included what to do with the squirreled-away-since-
the-’80s Gracie wallpaper that had cost the young designer weeks’ worth of
paychecks. (It’s gorgeous in the study with that peerless Regency desk.) And
what of the lugged-home-in-a-yellow-cab enormous solid iron pediment res-
cued from a torn-down bank building? (Again, gorgeous in the study atop an
artfully built-in closet creating precious storage.) And then there were the bath
tiles piled on the floor for decades, now finally in the floor. “Poor Paul,” Watson
laughs, noting that Sparks had long endured stepping around and tripping over
such items. Worked into the mix as well are furnishings acquired over time
at various auctions and sales, most notably a pair of Billy Baldwin–designed
étagères bought from Mario Buatta’s estate that almost certainly came from Cole
Porter’s apartment. Elsewhere, provenance is more personal; family heirlooms
include Watson’s mother’s bouillotte table, a grandfather’s violin, and a bronze
clock belonging to his great-great-grandfather,
who was the first medical doctor in Kansas City.
Connecting with his forebears’ legacy of preser-
vation and healing, Watson believes in home above
all as a place to nurture, and that nurtures you in
return. “I never thought of it as an investment,” he
says. “There is meaning and comfort here.”
FROM TOP: Bedroom walls
and swagged curtains
(more on page 114) are
a Suzanne Tucker print
(Carita). The violin was
Watson’s grandfather’s.
Soaking tub, Blu Bathworks.