Zoë Buckman featuring the Pop chair

In Brooklyn. I have a house, It's a classic Bed Stuy brownstone. I moved here last year.

When I was a kid, my dad got a new job, and I made him a tie. I think I sewed a bunch of shit to one of his existing ties, with beads and a bunch of ribbon and probably a bell hanging off of it. It was really ugly, but it was the ‘80s. Amazingly, he never wore it.

It is not possible for two hand made things to be exactly identical so there is that uniqueness that adds to its charm and how special it is. I think that it is something that is dying out in our culture as everything becomes more mass produced. And I think we lose that love, that attention to detail, and the specialness of things that are hand made. As It’s like that feeling that you get when you eat a home cooked meal versus ordering in something delicious. The difference with the home cooked meal is you are receiving someone’s love and their time.

I am currently in the studio and finishing up work for my next solo show which will be on September 5th at Lyles and King in New York. Everything is made by hand by me. It is the largest scale I’ve ever worked in, so I’ve really been pushing myself, honing my skills and trying to push myself into limits that are uncomfortable for me. Some of the works will be on tablecloths, which is a bigger scale. I’ve also been hand painting with ink and doing a lot of hand embroidery and, in some cases, applique as well. All the textiles are vintage domestic textiles so they are all hand made. So actually the show is a big emphasis on the hand, on craft, on toil and time. Blood sweat and tears, baby!

I chose it because it looks and feels quite masculine to me. There’s something quite daddy about it. As you know in my work I’m drawn to masculine and feminine, the hard and the soft. I just got masculine energy from it and that’s what my home needed - it’s a bit old lady over here.

It is warm, masculine and sexy.

Mumbai. It’s the energy. When you step into the city from the plane or train or whatever it is kind of an assault on all the senses: smells and sounds and hustle and bustle and color and taste. Mumbai has a taste. It is so intense that I can only really handle 3 days there, and then I have to leave. But it’s an amazing city.

And London. It made me and it made most of my favorite people. It’s real and gritty and depressing and ironic and gray but I feel all of that stuff breeds really excellent people.

We used to go quite a bit as kids, to County Clare, County Cork, County Kerry. It’s also where I learned to ride a bike for the first time. It’s beautiful. The counties that we went to have this almost untouched feeling about them.

On my altar I have my mother’s very happy worn-out Complete Works of Shakespeare. That was her treasured possession. It’s still got her notes and Post-its sticking out of it, and the spine is falling apart. It’s the kind of thing where if there’s a fire, that is coming with me. Interestingly enough it looks like a spiritual text.

...creating an impactful piece of art.

I think it takes time and it should. I am personally drawn to artwork where you can see the skill, the time and the love, as well as having a powerful message. I’m not as moved by art that has been made by somebody else or fabricated in a factory. Some of it can have a really powerful message but to me that’s not what I want to stare at, to keep coming back to for days. My work is all about labor, the labor of the female experience.

My kid, my best friends, my family.

My spiritual practice. Truly. Chanting, meditation, I’ve really let that slip recently. And I wish I devoted more time to that.

Giles. It is quite debonaire and masculine and it’s like an old-fashioned name. Maybe Giles is too fancy. Because this chair is not hoity toity. Maybe Joshua. Josh is a good name. Josh is always a good guy. Can you say a name is reliable? Josh is a typically reliable good guy whose parents have good taste because they named him Josh. It’s a fun name to say as well.

I would be a kitchen table because that is where everything happens. That is the warm, nurturing heart of the family. That’s where the meals, the cups of tea, the glasses of wine, the spliffs, the confessions, the fights all happen.