(Image credit: Esteban Cortez) Location: Marina District — San Francisco, California Size: 850 square feet Years lived in: 4.5 years; Though making a temporary space feel rooted isn't easy, Stephanie Fauerbach has put together a collection of mementos and inspiring pieces that make her apartment feel like a home. In her House Call, she said that adding personal details—like inspirational quotes, memories from her travels, and personal photos—to every nook and cranny makes her apartment feel like a hug every time she walks through her door. (Image credit: Esteban Cortez) Located just around the corner from her apartment is San Francisco's elegant Palace of Fine Arts, and the iconic Golden Gate Bridge is just a few minutes away. It's no surprise that she finds inspiration in all the beauty that surrounds her quiet neighborhood. The colorful butterfly collage in her living room reminds her of just that—all of the beautiful things in life. At the end of her Apartment Therapy photo shoot, Stephanie sits at her coffee table adding final touches to her floor plan drawing.

She points out that when she isn't working at her accounting job, she enjoys entertaining guests and crafting with friends over glasses of wine. "I have designed the space to make all my friends and family feel welcome," she says. "The best compliment I receive is that it feels like home." Inspiration: I once heard someone say your home should feel like a hug at the end of a long day. That simple statement has been the inspiration for my decorating style. It is not easy making a temporary place feel rooted, but I have found it to be the personal details that have turned this apartment into home. Favorite Element: My most personal piece is my butterfly wall. Many times butterflies are cheesy. For me, butterflies are a reminder of the beauty of life. “Just when the caterpillar thought its life was over, it became a butterfly…” This quote was first given to me in a magnet by my best friend from the third grade. Biggest Challenge: Finding a coffee table. I love so many elements in my living room, I don’t want the coffee table to be the focal point.

But the IKEA coffee table I have is too small for the space.koza curtains reviews What Friends Say: The best compliments I receive are that my apartment feels like home, that it is welcoming, colorful, cozy—and that it is a true reflection of me.eclipse casey blackout curtains Biggest Embarrassment: I have an addiction to HomeGoods, paint, and quotes!curtain shop kawana Proudest DIY: My paper flower bouquet. made to measure curtains redditchIt was a labor of love. I bought a book and my neighbor—and very good friend—spent many nights and glasses of wine helping me with this creation. Biggest Indulgence: Honestly, nothing.

It is more fun to get creative. Beside the large items, chances are if you ask, “Where did that come from?" nine out of ten times, my response will be “HomeGoods.” Best Advice: Build a room. Don’t do everything at once. Start with what you know you will love and add from there. Many times I have thought I would want to go one direction or another. But as I build up a room, those ideas change. Dream Sources: There is a little Marina boutique called Marmalade that also sells some home goods in my neighborhood. The first time I walked in, I thought to myself, "I could live in here." Of course, I love Pinterest and Etsy. I am constantly amazed at people's creativity. I also recently discovered Dot & Bo. And as I said before, I can’t live without HomeGoods. Send us your own: → Share your home with Apartment Therapy: House Tour Submission Form → Are you a designer/architect/decorator? Share your residential project: Professional Submission Form. → And see all of our past house tours here

Follow Apartment Therapy's board House Tours Apartment Therapy on Pinterest. Updated daily with fresh tours full of photos for you to pin & enjoy!The gritty work of Art Chantry speaks for itself. But that doesn’t mean this opinionated contrarian doesn’t have anything to say — quite the opposite! This master of low-tech design is known for his gig posters, album covers, magazine design, and logos. His work is most often associated with the ’80s underground grunge movement that was born in his Seattle hometown. In fact, he has been referred to as “Seattle’s unofficial granddaddy of grunge.” Quirky, sometimes shocking, and occasionally disturbing, Chantry’s work is not just a visual statement of non-conformity and rebellion, but is a unique and honest expression of the times. His low-tech, low-budget aesthetic began during punk rock times which then turned him into a mainstream, influential pioneer. But when you look past the surface, you will see a framework of traditional composition and design principles.

Art Chantry’s work can be viewed as a social, political and cultural design commentary. In fact, this visual iconoclast has described his work as “on the fringes of acceptable society.” It represents a moment in time that became a movement, and which now occupies a unique place in design history. Not only is his design style non-conforming and defiant, but so is his methodology. His process was originally the product of his pre-computer, low budget clients, but lived on to become his trademark style and one that he still practices. He replaces computers (for the most part) and their creative limitations with found type, deconstructed images, and other low budget yet highly inventive techniques. We asked Chantry to speak about his work and methodology, which he happily did with the inclusion of fascinating back-stories and explanations of his unconventional production methods. When did you get interested in typography (and design)? The earliest work I was ever hired to do was little clever word drawings for friends in high school.

As I recall, hand-drawn lettering was all I did in the earliest stages of my career. Eventually, I started to include imagery (found or created) and the larger design interest emerged from that. I view typography as construction. I BUILD type forms. I’m not a calligrapher, but when I use calligraphy, it’s not drawn with a writing tool (like a pen), but literally constructed as built letterforms that just happen to echo calligraphy in visual form. As a kid, I collected comic books. I built monster model kits. I watched a lot of pop television. That is where I was initially exposed to typography. The idea of “fine” typography is something I was exposed to decades later as a student. Then I just gravitated toward that look because it was what I was told was “good.” But as I got older and wiser, I walked away from what academia told me was acceptable, and just did what my clients wanted. I no longer consider myself a typographer. Computers changed the rules so much that everybody could do adequate typography with little or even no training, so I stepped back in time to building letterforms by hand with found materials and imagery.

I enjoy saying I no longer “do” typography, I do LETTERIN’! Who or what were the major influences in your work? How did the politics of the 60s/70s influence your style? Like I mentioned earlier, comic books were a huge influence — television, pop culture, etc. I was exposed the monster type of Harry Chester when I subscribed to Famous Monsters of Filmland. I was exposed to Cal Schenkel’s thinking by finding an ad for The Mothers of Invention in a Strange Tales comic book. I was introduced to endless possibilities by the world of rock and roll visuals: posters, record covers, performances, etc. I was taught how to make important announcements typographically by watching the pioneering work of William Golden, Lou Dorfsman and Herb Lubalin on the CBS Evening News every night. The culture around me taught me EVERYTHING. Academia only taught me how to survive a system that was trying to destroy me. But, I grew up during the Vietnam era — I actually knew all about having to survive in a world out to get me.

How do you decide whether to use fonts, found type, or other methods, such as collage or hand lettering? Those decisions are made by the spirit and personality and thinking of the client and their needs (not necessarily their demands). The one thing I’ve learned to shove into my typographic treatments is PERSONALITY. That personality can be anything you want, but I try hardest to insert the spirit, the personality of that project. Today we call this branding, but that’s just a bogus word to refer to marketing practices that are as old as mankind. The bottom line is I have to get the client’s requirements across to the audience. I use the magic at my disposal to manipulate that viewer into changing their mind about something. It’s my job to use the language of graphic design to talk that viewer into “buying this product,” “attending this event,” or “voting for this candidate.” We’re quite dangerous in our actions, really. There is great power in our skills.

What is your typical (creative and production) process? Do you do any work on a computer these days? Yes, I have to use computers these days. The entire paradigm has shifted to the point where no printer will accept work on anything but digital format. Prior to computers, my art form was the mechanical, the paste-up. I used it to “talk” directly to printing presses. So, I still try to create as much of a mechanical as I can, then scan it and have it assembled. It means “dumbing down” what I do a great deal. Not being able to work full size on a poster design is dreadful and limiting and just plain inexcusable. But, it is the way it is. I have to work small enough to fit it onto a scanner. Most of my design process happens inside my head nowadays. I usually know exactly what to do long before I sit down and do it. Most of the time is spent trying to figure out how to show it to a client who is completely spoiled rotten by being able to see a complete printed finish of an idea before he even has to do anything.

I demand collaboration with a client, while they are used to picking things off the shelf ready to buy. I present process, they expect product. So, my work process befuddles a lot of clients. It helps to cut the wheat from the chaff. Basically, I think about it, then eventually sit down and create the idea. I choose my best idea and my only decent idea (all subsequent ideas are steps back rather than forward). The actual “board” or production time I spend on a design is usually around 1/2 hour. That’s because I spend a month designing it in my head and 50 years prior learning how to do that. Then I have to sell it to the client. I hate sales work. I end up letting the work explain itself. If they don’t understand it, ok, I’ll try to explain a few times. Eventually they make a decision. Not much of a design process to entertain people any more. It’s all about human interaction and being able to talk with adults about adult subjects. I can articulate ideas. It took me 40 years to learn how to do that.

What was your favorite project? Well, if you consider branding an entire cultural moment, I’d say that GRUNGE was really a special moment when I saw that happen. Not many people can make a claim like that. However, my favorite project over the years was the work I did for Estrus records (founded by Dave Crider). When you have a great collaborator for a client, you do everything you can to hold onto them and maybe you’ll get to create body of work for that client that is as special and good as the work Dave and I did for that little record label. There is no reason on earth why that (basically) one-man record label should ever have looked like it did — the graphics were trendsetting and sparked a lot of subcultural history. But, then I’ve done the same with other projects as well (Sub Pop Records, The Rocket, Urban Outfitters, Coca).and your most unusual or challenging one? Good lord, most of my corporate clients are the most challenging, not because the work is complicated or difficult, but because the corporate culture is so utterly awful and unable to make decisions.