This is the kind of home we’d love to inhabit if only to overtly boho around in. A barefoot and bongos, Falkner and free-association, carport, candle and card-games dwelling complete with compact kitchen, California beach awning, tangerine carpet (thought we might lose that iron lacework in the inside) and modest footprint in one of the most exclusive suburbs in the entire country. The kind of residence noted by the neighbours for proudly proclaiming “yeah we could have some bloated villa here with far too many rooms and a servant class to clean them, but we know we don’t need that.” Opting out – right in all yer faces, you dig?

PS – Massive props to Patrick, dear fellow, how kind of you to not put out the welcome mat for the bulldozer –  the owners searching for a dedicated Modernist to take over perhaps?