Out of office: The Wallpaper* editors’ picks of the week

An iconic introduction

Ellie Stathaki, architecture & environment director

A morning visit to the Courtauld café this week gave me a sneak peek into the exciting plans the London art institution has for its future. Work is about to kick off on the immersive redesign of its Somerset House campus, led by the 2025 Stirling Prize winners Witherford Watson Mann, Purcell and Lawson Ward Studio. More space for students, dramatic brick architecture and plenty of natural light all seem to be on the cards. Construction is set to start in 2026, with completion planned for 2029.

A rapturous reunion

Sofia de la Cruz, travel editor

I was lucky enough to get tickets for Radiohead’s unexpected reunion tour – their first in seven years. Their fourth and final night at The O2 in London was spellbinding. I honestly have no words… just goosebumps that still haven’t faded.

A Mayfair milestone

Anna Solomon, digital staff writer

I’ve been keeping a keen eye on the gradual unfurling of 60 Curzon, the Thierry Despont-designed Mayfair building occupying the former site of the legendary Mirabelle restaurant. The development has already showcased interiors by Elicyon, Tatjana von Stein (previewed by Wallpaper*) and De Rosee Sa; the latest chapter comes from South African designer Christian Bense, who has crafted a four-bedroom residence and a cleverly conceived one-bed. I recently had the chance to see them in person.

The four-bed is the obvious headline act: an era-spanning home that draws gracefully from the 1920s through the 1960s. Its open-plan living space is vast enough to require gentle choreography, zoned into a seating area, games corner and dining table. A mohair tapestry by Frances VH feels surprising in just the right way, and the snug/library, tucked off the main room, offers an intimate, cocooning counterbalance to the expansive beyond.

The one-bed – which I’d unfairly treated as an afterthought – delivered a quiet revelation. Compact and cunningly planned, it’s a masterclass in spatial optimisation: the wall between the kitchen and living-dining area has been opened up to double as a bar, and the dining table slips beneath the television. The resulting atmosphere is that of a bohemian 1970s retreat. Both exquisite!

More than a store

Jamilah Rose-Roberts, social media editor

Some shops feel familiar because you’ve known them at different points in your life. Labour and Wait is one of those places for me. I used to work near their Baker Street location and would slip in during lunch, drawn by the quiet order of their shelves and the mix of utility and charm. Returning this week to see their expanded space, I felt a small rush of recognition. The store has grown, yet it still carries the signature that Simon Watkins and Rachel Wythe-Moran have shaped over the years.

Labour and Wait holds a distinct place in London’s retail landscape: hip, quirky without affectation, rooted in an artisan spirit that values the integrity of everyday objects. Metal tables sit alongside polished glassware. Homewares appear with calm confidence – purposeful, sustainable pieces that settle into a home rather than overwhelm it. Brushes, enamel pots, garden tools and ceramics are arranged with a curator’s restraint.

The expansion allows the store to breathe. The clothing section has grown and carries a clear identity: intentional, slow, quietly expressive. Jackets and workwear evoke a Japanese tradesman aesthetic – crisp cuts, strong canvas, thoughtful pockets. Knits lean towards Scandi wool traditions, promising warmth without fuss, with the gentle imperfection of pieces meant to live with you and soften over time.

Then there is the stationery. Entire walls of it. A personal indulgence, it pulled me back into my old habit of picking up notebooks I did not yet need and pencils I could happily collect in multiples.

Speaking with Simon and Rachel offered a glimpse into the ethos behind the expansion. Their vision is not about scale but deepening the store’s philosophy, strengthening practical goods and thoughtful garments, and widening the range of makers they collaborate with. Their commitment to objects that endure feels almost radical in a disposable culture.

Labour and Wait remains magnetic. Walking through the store, I was reminded why I loved it years ago – and why it continues to matter today.

An automotive activation

Bill Prince, editor-in-chief

On Thursday I was ferried to Petersham, south-west of London, for the launch of a driving loafer by Connolly, a brand whose 150-year history is inextricably linked to the automobile. Having furnished many a Rolls-Royce and Aston Martin interior with its peerless leather, Connolly today – under the creative direction of its owner, Isabel Ettedgui – retains its particular affinity with the world of motoring, expressed through a range of clothing and accessories that reflect its central role in the development of high-end autos (it continues to supply Ferrari and Singer Porsche, as well as many bespoke restoration projects).

But back to the shoes. Isabel first spotted the legendary Car Shoe, designed and worn by the Italian industrialist Gianni Agnelli, on a trip to Monaco more than three decades ago. Tracking down its producer, she narrowly missed acquiring the company, which later became part of the Prada Group. Notwithstanding this, the Car Shoe as it’s known today continues to use the same logo designed by Connolly.

Now Connolly has a driver’s shoe of its own, designed by Alvaro Gonzalez to reflect the particularly intimate relationship between conveyance and pilot. A sleek, wafer-thin sole in green rubber (embedded with the house CB logo) assures close contact with the pedals, atop which sits a silky-smooth upper of suede and nubuck. Its glove construction gives the loafer a pleasing lightness and all-important flexibility, while the stitching resembles that found on a steering wheel, underlining once more Connolly’s close relationship with the road.

A perfect pizza?

Charlotte Gunn, director of digital content

On Saturday, I spent the afternoon bobbing around North Audley Street with the misguided view that I might be able to 'pop' into Crisp for lunch. For the uninitiated, Crisp is the buzzy pizza restaurant that has recently taken up residence underneath The Marlborough pub. Voted London's best slice by pizza TikTok account, Bite Twice, and poster child for London's 'Pizzanaissance', it grew too big for its former location in Hammersmith's The Chancellors and headed to the West End. We arrived at about 1.30 pm and the queue was already three hours long – but the offer to leave our name and return later felt like a good excuse to do some Christmas shopping (and have a few drinks in Wine Bar). On our return, they were citing five whole hours for a table. As David Ellis recently pointed out, only you know if pizza is worth that kind of wait. I love the stuff – but I couldn't help feeling a little underwhelmed. The base is indeed crispy, which sets it apart from many of the two-a-penny sourdough slices the city has on offer, but could I hand on heart say it was the best pizza I've ever had? No, I could not. The hype machine is a powerful thing.