Along the western edge of the Netherlands, where long stretches of blue sea meet shores painted with pine trees, windmills, and sailboats, lies Domburg—a 16th-century village in the maritime province of Zeeland. Tucked into the dunes just a few hundred feet from the water is a provincial farmhouse-style holiday home belonging to Pascal, his wife, Marie-Louise, and their two teenage children. Both Pascal and Marie-Louise grew up spending summers along the Zeeland coast, so when they heard whispers of a home coming to market, they moved quickly, enlisting AD100 designer JP Demeyer, whose Antwerp-based studio had previously reimagined their primary residence in Breda.
“Jean-Philippe is a mastermind,” says Pascal. “He enters the house and is just quiet for an hour. You wonder, ‘What’s he thinking? Will he take on the project?’ Then a few weeks go by, and he comes back with these fully-formed hand-drawn sketches of what he has in mind.” (Those sketches, among others, are featured in Demeyer’s recently released book, Fearless Living.) Demeyer explains his methodical approach, saying: “You listen to the client in the beginning. I don’t ask about taste. I ask about what kind of feeling they want. I am a house therapist. I only need one session.”
For Pascal and Marie-Louise, the goal was a holiday escape that shut out the world the moment one crossed the threshold—making a dramatic entry essential. “First impressions are everything,” the designer says. Drawing inspiration from preppy Ralph Lauren rugby shirts, Demeyer fashioned an entryway paneled with wooden poles found at a nearby gardening store, and lacquered with colors from his coastal mood board. “I love to use inexpensive materials and make something haute couture out of it,” he reflects. “Limitations are great for creativity.”
Demeyer is drawn to reworking the familiar—everyday objects, unexpected materials, thrifted finds—and uncovering their beauty through reuse. Take the Dutch coast: while it lacks abundant sunshine, it’s defined by colorful windscreens—thick, striped linen panels anchored in the sand to shield beachgoers from the sea’s chill. In Zeeland’s cool, diffused light, the windscreens’ hard colors hold their own, which explains why the fabric appears throughout the home, stretched over banquettes, paneled into kitchen cabinets, pulled across windows, and fashioned into patchwork skirts beneath the bathroom sinks. The designer loved the utilitarian fabric so much that when its manufacturer Verlatex went out of business, he bought the entire inventory, thousands of meters of colorful stripes in varying thickness.
“I know there’s an overdose of stripes in the interiors industry at the moment, but how can you make a beach house without stripes? It’s relaxed, it’s sporty, it’s beachy. What do you want: English chintz and flowers? No,” he deadpans.
As repeat clients, Pascal and Marie-Louise came to the project with an established trust in Demeyer’s instincts, even if his liberal use of mirrors and bold ceilings initially gave them pause. Over time, they grew comfortable with what once felt daring. On the first floor, a strip of dark cherry paneling runs beneath the grasscloth ceilings, stitching the rooms together—a move the couple hesitated over. “It ties the rooms together,” Pascal admits. “I couldn’t imagine it without that trim now.”
“When we arrived, it was just a standard holiday house, and it didn’t feel like ours,” says Pascal. “JP and his team created magic, the energy of the house has changed from a place to stay in, to a place to escape. It gives us this wonderfully happy feeling now.”





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