To any keen observer, flipping through the pages of Billy Cotton’s first monograph is like visiting an alternate reality in the design multiverse. While everything appears completely familiar—comfortable American sitting rooms, trendy kitchens, sultry boudoirs—something feels different. Subversive, even. Colors that should clash, don’t. Material combinations that might sound harsh on paper achieve wonders, and periods mix together in ways others wouldn’t dare. From one house or apartment to the next, each believably seems to be by a different creator. “I don’t have a style, really,” says Cotton. “There’s no look I’m trying to sell.”
But Cotton isn’t an interdimensional traveler. Instead, he’s become the go-to decorator quilts. In some ways, it’s easy to see the parallels between Cotton’s imaginative yet grounded choices and the photographic works of Sherman. Like her delightfully eerie self-portraits, Cotton’s work is just as gleefully wicked.
