A new book offers a glimpse into the magical world of Ralph Lauren's enduring home collections—as well as his own homes—which have inspired innovation in the interior design space for nearly half a century. Here, we spotlight the iconic designer's Double RL Ranch in the San Juans.
Long before we had our Double RL ranch in Colorado, the dream of the West lived in my heart. My beat-up cowboy hat is as worn as my favorite blue Jeep. (1989) PROFILE PHOTO BY BARBRA WALZ
The Lodge, our main family home, is built of hand-hewn logs and faces our favorite view of the mountains, which can be seen through the large window set into the cozy sitting area out front. The sofa was made by local craftsmen and, like the sturdy, rustic rocking chairs, is covered in layers of vintage trade blankets and pillows. The rug under the coffee table bench is a Diné (Navajo) transitional rug, c. 1890. PHOTO BY GILLES DE CHABANEIX
When I first came to Colorado, I didn’t want to build a new house. I wanted to find an old one. Someone told me about a 100-year-old barn on a large piece of property looking out at the San Juan Mountains. I remember so well the morning Ricky and I went to look at it: The light on the meadows. The light striking the barn. We immediately knew this was where we wanted to live.
My summer ranch uniform is a white T-shirt, jeans, boots and cowboy hat. PROFILE PHOTO BY BRUCE WEBER
I love land for itself—the look, the beauty of undisturbed land. I felt pained to have to build here at all, so I chose low, inconspicuous sites where the houses would be half-hidden by the trees. Driving by on the road you could miss the Lodge, our family house. It looks like a little log cabin from the outside, but when you go inside it seems spacious. Our pole rail fences handcrafted of locally sourced pine border our land along the highway for over seven miles. We constructed them so that the poles face outward for a smooth appearance. The fences are part of the journey to our home.
I discovered the work of Fritz Scholder in Santa Fe in the early 1980s. As an artist and a member of the La Jolla Band of Luiseño Indians, he led the way to a new kind of Native American art. His painting on the mantel in the Lodge’s living room is set off by the river rocks behind it. Our collection of Native American weavings brings more color and warmth to this room’s natural palette. On the mantel: Acoma olla c. 1910 and Southern California basket. On the foreground table: Apache tray c. 1900. PHOTO BY GILLES DE CHABANEIX
I love the character of old things. I built the house out of old barnwood. I wanted a screen door with a squeak. If something’s really old, let it feel that way. Over time, the Lodge has become a home to things we felt belonged here—Native American paintings, pottery, woven baskets, serapes, weavings and trade blankets. Their bold color and handcrafted textures brings a special beauty and brightness against the dark wood of the cabin walls.
Over the years we’ve filled our bedroom with some of our favorite collections. On either side of a Diné (Navajo) American flag weaving hang strings of silver Diné (Navajo) concha belts, and cotton trade blankets are stacked on a wooden stagecoach trunk. A pair of paintings is flanked by an Apache basket draped by a colorful Diné (Navajo) Germantown blanket and an Apache olla basket. PHOTO BY GILLES DE CHABANEIX
We built the Saloon on the site of the Little Brown, the original 1880s cabin homesteaded on the land. It’s our ritual after dinner to gather there on the porch outside with family and friends to watch the sky turn orange. Then we head inside to watch a movie. Our cozy theater is filled with comfortable worn leather armchairs softened with vintage trade blankets and pillows. Ricky and I have reserved seats in the back row. The rich red-velvet curtains on either side of the screen remind me of an old-fashioned opera house. PHOTO BY GILLES DE CHABANEIX
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