Inside Our First Parisian Grand Pied à Terre: With Designer, Julie Tysseire-Torres

For Julie, the apartment’s defining moment revealed itself immediately. “It’s such an amazing space when you walk in,” she explains. “The big windows, the openness to the street, it feels very sociable, very connected. And the location… you walk through the gates of Rue de Birague and you feel so in the middle of it all.” That sense of openness became the foundation for the design. But equally important was what remained of the home’s past. “Anything we could hold on to, like the kitchen floor or the original parquet in the bedrooms, we were very clear on keeping,” she says. “It may be worn or slightly imperfect, but that’s exactly where the character comes from.”

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Alongside these retained elements came the need to reintroduce character where it had been lost. And with this being our first Grand Pied à Terre, the approach required a shift. “From a Pied à Terre to a Grand Pied à Terre, we needed to elevate,” Julie explains. “The approach stays the same in terms of identity, but everything becomes more refined, the materials, the lighting, the detailing.”

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That elevation is felt not through excess, but through precision. Real marble replaces stone surfaces, lighting becomes more sculptural, and furniture choices lean into recognisable, design-led brands. “The lighting was one of the main things,” she notes. “It needed to be striking. More romantic, more considered. Everything just feels a bit more elevated, a bit more special.”

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There was also, from the outset, a moment of instinct that set the tone for the entire scheme. “We saw these green armchairs at Maison & Objet and immediately said, ‘We need these in Paris,’” Julie recalls. "They were one of the first pieces we locked in, everything else almost built out from there.”

With much of the original architectural detailing removed, the design had to create its own sense of interest and atmosphere. “One wall was windows, the other was wardrobes,” Julie explains of the living space. “So the first thing we did was bring in the chandeliers.” The choice of lighting became central to defining the apartment’s identity. "We wanted something that felt classic and statement, but not too old school,” she says. “That balance between classic and contemporary,  that’s what Paris feels like.”

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To complement this, more contemporary elements were introduced through furniture and materiality. Chrome finishes, mirrored surfaces, and sculptural forms bring a modern energy that offsets the traditional references. “It was about making it feel like someone who really understands the city lives there,” Julie says. “Someone who knows where to find things, who mixes old and new naturally.”

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That same sense of balance carries through into the kitchen. Here, the retained café tiles became the starting point. “They’re such a reminder of history,” she explains. “They’re imperfect, a bit uneven, but that’s what makes them so special.” Rather than compete with this, the surrounding elements were intentionally pared back. “We knew the floor already had a lot of presence, and we wanted to introduce a striking marble, so everything else needed to be more restrained,” she says. “The cabinetry is intentionally simple, neutral and pared back, it’s there to support what already exists rather than compete with it.”

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In the bathrooms, a familiar August Parisian language is carried through, but elevated. “They’re always a bit romantic,” Julie notes. “There’s a softness to them, through the tiles, the lighting, the materials.” For the Grand Pied à Terre, this is pushed further through richer material choices and more considered detailing. “The lighting becomes more like jewellery,” she adds. “The vanity becomes a moment. It’s the same idea, just taken further.”

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In the bedrooms, the design becomes more intimate, drawing on a different kind of Parisian reference point. “For the headboards, we were looking at fashion, really,” Julie explains. “That tailored feel, those patterns you associate with couture.” This influence is subtle but deliberate, bringing a sense of structure and identity to each room without overwhelming it.

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Across the apartment, antiques are used sparingly, but with intention. “We always bring antiques to ground a space,” she says. “But in a city apartment, you can be more eclectic.” Rather than leaning into obvious, traditional pieces, the selections reflect a more lived-in, layered approach. “It’s less about the classic Louis-style furniture, and more about how you actually live in Paris,” she explains. “Maybe it’s a cocktail set, or a desk, or small objects that feel collected over time.”

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That distinction becomes particularly important when comparing city living to countryside homes. “In a villa, you might lean more into what feels like it belongs there historically,” Julie says. “In Paris, it’s different. The city is a mix of old and new, so you can play with that more.” Being French herself, Julie is particularly aware of the fine line between authenticity and cliché. “It’s about balance,” she reflects. “Not going too far into the traditional, but also not losing what makes it Paris. You want to keep it contemporary, keep it relevant, and avoid making it feel like a stereotype.”

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