A LITTLE GEM
A Little Gem
Sweet, small and smart
By Deborah Salomon
Photographs by John Gessner
Pinehurst has become an enclave of castles and cottages, outdoor showers and indoor pools, antiques and art, dog grooming parlors and tech control rooms accommodating generals and musicians, bankers, brewers, judges and surgeons. From this residential potpourri a new genre emerges: the little gem.
A prime example is the cottage tucked into a quiet, lesser known lane on the edge of a newish residential area. Pinehurst estates have garages bigger than its 820 square feet.
This little gem presents an optical illusion: classic furniture in dark woods is scaled for a larger house but sits comfortably uncrowded in small rooms with low ceilings and a patchwork of floorboards that suggest additions after its completion in 1941. Soon, its intimate parlor, with a few adjustments, will welcome a baby grand piano.
The sorceress performing this magic is Tess Gillespie, who also turned a patio into a garden with seating for a dozen guests — or her children and grandchildren. Bear in mind, the house has no dining room, just a drop-leaf table to pull out when required, and a sweet little bench in the kitchen, where two, maybe three, can add chairs for brunch.
Of course this one bedroom, one bathroom Lilliputian lifestyle requires some sacrifices: no bathtub; no giant TV screen; no walk-in closets; and, by choice, no dishwasher.
What was this residential iconoclast thinking?
The story opens as do many Pinehurst relocations. Tess grew up in the Boston area, loving the sea — hence seascape art dominating the walls. Like other Northern cosmopolites, she and husband Bill looked for a vacation home in a warmer climate rich in facilities, including golf. They tried Florida.
“We didn’t want a condo,” Tess recalls. Driving through Pinehurst they spotted a For Sale sign on the cottage and an adjacent building lot. They purchased the package in 2004, built a new house on the lot and moved into it a year later. Tess has such fond memories of their short time in the cottage that after Bill died in 2013 she worked it up and moved back in.
“We were happy here,” she says. Besides, she muses, “I’ve never been one who loves a big house. Downsizing is freeing.”
Tess brought experience and taste to the task gained while working for Laura Ashley, Lord & Taylor and other high-end fashion and home goods retailers. She decided on a milky/linen white for walls throughout, which she painted herself. Fabrics, where required, are printed in bright navy blue.
“My mother had a great eye for furniture,” Tess says. When she died, Tess and her sisters met and divided up these household treasures. “We cried, we laughed, we remembered . . . ” Results of this and other forays included large wing chairs and a one-armed settee in the living room. On the settee are cushions made from her father’s fisherman knit sweaters.
Tess replaced several space-gobbling doors with curtains and built a window seat with a mattress to accommodate any unexpected guests. The only true bedroom barely contains a queen bed and long dresser. The remodeled bathroom squeezes in a glass stall shower and stacked washer and dryer.
The kitchen, visible from the sitting room, is a slim galley with country French touches. Tess opened the space under the stairway to a second floor apartment (grandfathered as a rental) for a pantry displaying jars and baskets. The countertop is thick, heavy marble; the island, that dark, narrow wooden bench. The chandelier is weathered brass. Tess replaced the dishwasher with an oversized round metal sink, hearkening back to times she and her sisters would laugh, talk and do dishes together in their family home.
Tess, who works part-time in a local real estate office, has a way with flowers. White orchids bloom throughout the house. A small office overlooks her informal gardens, in full bloom.
As much as style and innovation, this mini-gem, barely visible from the street, represents the philosophy of a wise woman. “I have an independent spirit,” says Tess. “I know I can do things, and I’ve learned to compromise and do things myself.” Like create an environment, totally her, filled with talismans.
“I feel safe and secure here . . . the house makes me happy because this is where Bill and I started,” she says. “I don’t want ‘big’ or more stuff. Really, what more do I need?”
