In the wake of personal tragedy, Plaster and Patina founder Alexandra Azat found solace in design—creating a moody, textural primary suite that invites restoration, reflection, and quiet strength.

When designer Alexandra Azat lost her home in the California wildfires, she found herself untethered from the familiar. The kind of loss that singes more than walls or heirlooms—it unsettles the very idea of what “home” means. Days later, she stepped into the expansive primary suite of a colonial-revival house in Pasadena and began to build again. Yet in pouring herself into the space, she stitched together something far more intimate than a commission: a study in restoration, resilience, and the poetry of materials.

The resulting suite—comprising a bedroom, sitting room, sunlit nook, bathroom, and closet—is moody, enveloping, and utterly transportive. Each space offers a meditation on what it means to feel held—by color, texture, and quiet intentionality.

A Soft Place to Land

Designing a cavernous primary bedroom to feel like a warm cocoon is no small task. But for Azat, who calls herself a lover of “moody, grounded environments,” it was a natural instinct. “Home,” she says, “is a feeling—not just a physical place.” That feeling guided every decision.

The palette is hushed and soulful, rooted in putty, clay, and earth rather than bright whites. “Although there is a place for white walls,” she notes, “they aren’t always our go-to.” Azat chose tones that soothe without dulling, creating a nuanced backdrop for tactile layers to shine.

Mohair, velvet, wool, and silk show up not as ornamental details, but as architectural tools—draped over windows, upholstery, and pillows to soften the edges of a large room. “I love a luxe, what I call ‘sexy’ fabric,” she says. “Rich materials make you want to curl up and never leave.” Anchoring the room is a custom curved sofa, a sensual counterpoint to the suite’s classical bones. It’s a gesture of softness, of feminine strength—a hallmark of Azat’s style.

“I love designing spaces that feel like they’re influenced by strong women,” she explains. “Rounded edges, subtle arches, sultry finishes—they don’t overpower. They coax you into comfort.”

The Dialogue of Materials

There is a distinct tension in the way materials converse throughout the suite. Sleek polished walnut rubs shoulders with distressed elm. Honey onyx glows against black cement tiles. Each contrast is carefully choreographed—never abrupt, always intentional.

“I love playing with extremes,” Azat says. “When you pair something pristine with something time-worn, both pieces feel more soulful. More human.”

The suite’s bathroom is a showcase of this philosophy. A sculptural walnut and brass Palmer vanity floats like furniture in the space, framed by encaustic cement tile with a hand-laid border and walls lined in clay zellige tile. “Zellige is an authentic clay material,” Azat notes. “Its imperfections make a space feel alive. And honestly, more inviting. A space is better when it’s not perfect.”

But if the aesthetic reads effortless, don’t be fooled. “The way the bathroom tile came together on the floor,” she confesses, “was one of the most challenging design tasks I’ve done—but also one of the most rewarding.”

Azat describes herself as a “clean maximalist”—a designer with both a “gaudy cherub” and an “OCD clean freak” perched on her shoulders. “One dreams big and gets wild with materials. The other edits ruthlessly. That tension helps me find balance.”

Memory in the Margins

Though elegantly composed, the suite holds emotional undercurrents. In the closet, a rich, red-toned clay hue wraps the cabinetry, grounding the space in warmth. But it’s the hunt scene mural, tucked quietly at the back, that carries the deepest meaning.

Azat, who grew up riding horses, says she rode before she could walk. “I’m deeply connected to horses and all things equestrian,” she shares. The mural is more than a design flourish—it’s a tribute. “I used to trail ride with my dad, and we’d pass by the hunts. After he passed in an accident five years ago, it became important to me to work those memories into my designs—quiet reminders to live life fully.”

Art, throughout the suite, is treated with similar reverence. Selected in collaboration with a local Pasadena gallery, each piece—a painting, an etching—adds atmosphere without pulling focus. “Art is deeply personal,” says Azat. “When a client is ready to collect, I tap galleries I trust. But I also love sourcing from emerging artists. Sites like Saatchi Art and Tappan are great for that.”

The Restorative Power of Design

At its core, this project is about more than beauty. It’s about repair—not only of a space, but of spirit. For Azat, the project became a channel for healing. And for those who now occupy the suite, it is an invitation to rest, to feel, to be held.

When asked what advice she’d give readers trying to create similarly emotionally rich spaces, Azat offers this: “Start with intention. Don’t worry about perfection. A chipped vessel, a soft palette, a soulful material—that’s what makes a space feel human. That’s what makes it home.”

Credits:

Interior Design by Alexandra Azat | @plasterandpatina

Photography by Sam Frost | @samfroststudio