People say it looks like kids’ stuff, which I think I’m down with,’ says John Booth, 34, the illustrator/ceramicist/artist and fashion industry’s favourite polymath.
He’s talking about his work, naive drawings of faces splashed with vivid daubs of colour that emblazon vases, plates, prints, blankets and T-shirts, but he could also be talking about the decor of his house. The place he rents in London Fields — a tiny two-up, one-down residence on a quiet road — is unassuming from the outside, but a Technicolor dream on the inside.
Cartoonish drawings and sculptures are grouped decoratively on every single surface, including a Shiva vase by Ettore Sottsass (more commonly known as ‘the penis vase’) that spouts three pink carnations. Ikea cabinets in mustard and cerulean sit opposite a mid-century chair by Enzo Mari, painted with kaleidoscopic radiance. ‘I have a strong emotional response to bright shades,’ he says.
‘They have a really positive effect on me and it’s so nice to be surrounded by it all. They’re joyous.’
Joy is a feeling that shines through Booth’s work, from his cheeky illustrations that appeared on two season’s worth of Fendi T-shirts to the stripes of kingfisher blue and yellow that cut a dash across the rugs he designed for the art and interiors collective House of Voltaire (one of which is now pride of his place on his living room floor). Booth is a hot ticket. Since graduating from Central Saint Martins 10 years ago, he has worked as an intern for John Galliano, which he describes as ‘an experience’, sewn sequins for Ashish and created textiles for Zandra Rhodes (‘I’ve never heard swearing like [Zandra’s]’).
Most recently he was snapped up by Silvia Venturini Fendi, head of accessories and menswear at her namesake brand, to add his colour-bursting scrawl to T-shirts, backpacks and holdalls. He learned to make ceramics in 2015, taking an eight-week evening course for amateurs at Turning Earth in Hoxton. Now his head-shaped vases sell for £920 at Paul Smith stores. ‘I feel it’s a bit much to call me a ceramicist,’ Booth says, despite the fact that he has clearly become one. ‘It’s unfair on people who train their whole lives. But I love the process of seeing my designs being turned into things.’
The interiors of his rented place emanate a maximalist warmth that go cheerily against stuffy rules about feature walls and KonMarie-style tidying. ‘I can’t relate to the idea of decluttering,’ Booth says with a rebellious grin. ‘But there’s a difference between clutter and stuff, and I take loads of enjoyment from all the stuff I have in my home. I mean, it would be weird if I didn’t like stuff, because that’s what I make. Stuff.’
There’s quirky humour in his designs, as well as in all of the objects on display around his open-plan kitchen/living room. ‘I like modern-day versions of pop art,’ he says, also referencing the dynamic shapes and shades of the 1980s Memphis Group movement, and artists Sottsass, Peter Shire and Nathalie du Pasquier. His sculpture of a saw by the artist Matthew Smith, Hay vases in unicorn colours and clay pieces by his friend Sam Bakewell are offset surprisingly well by the magnolia paint on the walls — that classic hallmark of a rental property.
‘I would have gone for a bright white, but it was like this when we moved in,’ Booth says. ‘There’s a subtle warmth to it, especially when the winter light is so low.’ The canary yellow Dulux gloss paint with which he impulsively covered his bedroom was bolder than he expected, but he says its gleam brings an inspiring shine ‘that certainly wakes me up in the mornings’.
He shares the home with the hair stylist Barry Linnen, who owns On The Floor, a hair salon in Hackney. After spending his 20s DJing at The George & Dragon in Shoreditch, Booth now prefers to stay in and watch MasterChef: The Professionals. Going out means pizza at Franco Manca, Chinese from Zing Zing or a quiet drink at The Duke of Wellington in Soho. Home is really where he likes to be and he plans to carry on renting his house for the foreseeable future. ‘It’s expensive but I can’t be bothered to moan about the price, that’s just London for you,’ he says. He takes in all the colour around him. ‘And the landlord lets us decorate how we want.’
