BRANDT WOOD
Brandt Wood is almost too good to be true. He cooks. He collects art. He went to school at Washington & Lee. He reads Wallpaper and National Geographic. Are you ready? The man grows orchids. (“I grew up in a family of florists and nurserymen,” he says. “I guess I have an instinct for plants.”)
Brandt and his brother Brady are in the food and entertainment business: creators of the well-known Green Room in Deep Ellum and Jeroboam in downtown Dallas. His downtown loft near Fair Park is one of three apartments in a bare electric substation he helped to convert three years ago. The apartment is a study of light, textures, industrial space, mid-century modern furniture, and family heirlooms. Unlike so many Dallas interiors, it is restrained. His art collection is varied and intelligent. His dog Reddy is well-trained. It goes without saying: we feel love.
POGIR & GARY COOPER
Yes, Playboy Magazine did a photo shoot at Gary Cooper and Pogir’s house (Pogir, one name, like Cher), and, yes, La Dolce Vita is etched into the wall above their front door. But none of it is so much predatory as it is playful; these guys just like to have fun. Pogir, an architect from South Africa, has been a design consultant for Cantoni furniture for more than a decade and works with clients on both coasts, as well as in Dallas. Gary is a real estate builder and contractor. The two bachelors, who are actually cousins, worked as a team on the design and construction of their “Italian palazzo” in North Dallas, complete with mustard stucco walls, concrete balustrades, balconies, and marble sculptures.
Gary and Pogir’s home combines common space and two private wings. On the first floor, they each have their own personal living room; the two spaces are linked by a kitchen, dining area, and full bar (though they’re both devoted to good nutrition and probably drink more soy milk than Chivas). Separate staircases lead to the two upstairs master suites. Pogir’s bedroom, like his wardrobe, is black; Gary’s bedroom, unlike his wardrobe, is white. They each have their own two-car garages.
Though the house is open and spacious and grand, it is the outdoor space that sets La Dolce Vita apart. The design of the back of the house takes full advantage of a dense forest and creek area. A horizon pool flows from the center courtyard into a sort of backyard oblivion. La Dolce Vita is, in fact, a host’s dream. “But we don’t entertain as much anymore because it messes up the house,” says Pogir.
SCOTT KIMPLE
Scott Kimple moved into his first Turtle Creek high-rise years before it was a cool place to be. (“I lived in a high-rise near Central Park for a good portion of my childhood,” he says. “In Dallas, Turtle Creek was the closest I could get.”) Scott gives off a serious East Coast boarding school vibe, but he’s a local boy who graduated from SMU. His home office is a page out of the Ralph Lauren stylebook: hunter green walls, framed snapshot of Scott with George Dubya, St. Mark’s alumni directory, hunting rifles in a case, barometer on the wall, and polo trophies. And where was he when we tried to fact check this article? Where else? Monte Carlo.
All of this would be extreme if Scott wasn’t a genuine guy. But he is. Unlike so many people whose homes we see, Scott actually knows and understands his antiques, some of which are family pieces, others he chased down and bought himself. He has books in his library. Not those leather-bound, buy-by-the-yard impostors but real books—lots of history and politics—and, more to the point, he has read them. And, finally, Scott is great-looking. So who cares?
