The Lime Works, on the outskirts of Faversham, is a conversion of two water towers, which have been made into an art deco-inspired contemporary home. The building, which is grade II-listed, was built in the early 1930s and was a functioning water softening plant until 1942. The current owners acquired the property in 2005, converting it into the house you see now.

According to the agent, the owners have ‘sympathetically converted, restored and refurbished the building’, with the emphasis on ‘attention to detail and specification’. There’s no denying that the end product is a design you can’t ignore.

Plenty of space and plenty of luxury too. The accommodation is arranged over four floors, with the ground floor offering floor to ceiling windows for plenty of light, while a series of spiral staircases lead to the leisure facilities on the first floor and the bedrooms (six in total) and bathrooms (six of those) on the second floor. The master bedroom suite occupies the entire fourth floor while two roof terraces, one of which has a heated pool, offer plenty of entertaining opportunities.

Outside space (beyond the electric wrought iron gates and gravel driveway) is a large parking area, double underground garage, lawns and eight acres of grounds. There’s also a large storage area at the side of the house.

As for the luxury, pool and design aside, the house also has a dining room with with triple height void, hand crafted concrete beds and baths, gym suite, including sauna and plunge pool, an integral cinema room and motion sensor lighting. Wow.

Works are apparently ‘still ongoing at the property’ with the purpose of bringing the house to 90% completion which will allow the buyer to design and specify the final 10% by way of arrangement with the current construction company or with the buyer appointing their own designer and contractors. In short, you can do your own finish.

Hope that last bit of work is included in the price, we expect it is, especially with an asking price of £3,750,000.

It’s currently for sale, you can find it at the Savills website.

Originally designed to protect the entrance to Portsmouth Harbour, the brief was to convert the fort into a luxury retreat and function venue. The project was approached with a deliberate intention of ensuring any proposals would not only stand alone as examples of architectural merit and efficient space management, but more importantly co-exist with the strong, utilitarian aesthetic without confusing the historic origins of the building. A successful scheme would form a distinctive and constructive imprint on the life of a building which has been continuously modified and added to for more than a century.

The property consists of three distinct levels: the basement-like munitions store, the spacious gun deck and external courtyard, and the rooftop lighthouse and former gun emplacements.

The unique floor plan and inflexibility of the original structure required an innovative strategy in forming a coherent layout, with the limited number of external windows and the need for a simple means of circulation causing further concern. The exposed nature of the internal structure proved both a blessing and a hindrance, with eight of the fifteen gun locations forming the focus for each of the new bedrooms; however, creative approaches were needed to address the distribution of modern mechanical and electrical services throughout a solid nineteenth-century building. Understanding that face-fixed cables and pipework would cause an unsightly disruption to the historic context, considerable efforts were made to contain services within a newly created floor void wherever possible.

A strong sense of functionality pervades the interior of the Fort. Exposed structural elements visibly disclose the simple yet strong construction processes of the period; rows of vaulted red-brick arches curve away from the viewer, contrasting with the iron panels and riveted beams that radiate from the centre of the building, transferring the colossal weight of the concrete roof through a perimeter of columns to the floor.

Stylistically, all this history is capable of speaking for itself; by adhering to the practical attitudes of the original creators, and consciously avoiding the easy mistake of placing desirable yet distracting features, the purpose of the proposals was always to direct attention towards the authentic and original rather than away from it. This deliberate use of unpretentious design was a crucial factor when considering artificial lighting; concealed LED uplighters would direct the eye towards the natural textures present, producing a twofold result of both illuminating a surface as if a work of art, and lighting a space practically without harsh glare or anachronistic light fittings. Additional benefits to this approach are minimal maintenance and energy consumption issues, and this was considered an essential methodology when specifying a range of features throughout the project. Colour schemes would be neutral and understated and, ideally, furniture would have a timeless, practical appeal that wouldn’t compete for attention with the historic aesthetic.

The original central passage to the gun deck, having been previously subdivided into separate uses, was reinstated, creating a natural path that leads the visitor round a gently curving brick-lined corridor providing access to all eight bedrooms, and affording quiet pockets of relaxation and contemplation with views of the courtyard. Frosted glass doors to male and female WCs allow borrowed light to fall upon areas otherwise difficult to illuminate, providing a diffuse natural glow to offset the electric lighting.

New designs for the rooftop areas were developed in a more contemporary style; once preservation of the existing features was assured, a more radical interpretation could be utilised for the accompanying structures. Concrete enclosures surrounding two former gun emplacements were re-contextualised as a fire pit and hot pool, simultaneously reflecting and contrasting each other in location and purpose.

The crumbling lighthouse and rangefinder station – itself a 20th century addition – serves as the highest point on the fort and is highly visible even from the Southsea seafront 1km away, and so plans to enhance this feature were fundamental in forming a rational approach to developing the rooftop. The additional function space, intended to be subservient to the existing form, eventually took on a character of its own, growing and evolving as the cost of years of exposure and neglect on the existing building was painstakingly revealed during renovation.

Upon completion, the lighthouse now serves as a signal both metaphorical and physical; it is the first concession to modern design visible on approach, and the renovated beacon with its navigation light has been returned to the roof, allowing the fort the dignity of retaining a small fragment of its functional origins. Seemingly precariously balanced on such an unforgiving and unrefined bulk, the faceted glazing of the lighthouse offers broken glimpses of both the clouds above and the comfort within, and provides an understated yet self-assured example of the successful regeneration of such an uncompromising and imposing structure.

This fantastic live-in garage is the proof that passion can shape the spaces we live in. Designed for a young man whose Maserati was the object of his passion, this surprising garage/residence can be found in Sao Paulo, Brazil. Composed of layers of translucent and transparent separators, this residential space imagined by architect Brunete Fraccaroli is where the owner connects with his passion and surrounding nature. Spreading over 120 square meters, the modern garage is intended to link the owner and his car in the most visible way – the Maserati occupies an important space right in the living room. This versatile space includes the social area, a dining space, and office corner, a home theater and even a washing place. Meeting in-between dark walls and white ceilings, the carefully chosen furniture items compose an up-to-date design perfectly adapted for this special residential project.

This house house was designed for arid environments and is wrapped into an energy efficient shell that reflects heat from the sun.

At times, the simplest form with least manipulation from its original form can offer visual amenities and adapted solution to the context. California Roll prefabricated house takes this methodology to create its morphological adaptation to its environment : desert. Homogeneous exterior material which provides high grade of energy efficiency and reflects heat from the sun covers the entire surface except for glass panels which is electronically controlled to change its transparency.

Modularization of every structure members and finish materials are maximized to provide mobilty with rapid assembly and disassembly on site.

To sustain its challenging structural stand, carbon fibre truss frame under neath the exterior material holds the entire architecture. Hydraulic powered automatic doors and security system is used for main entrance door which allows less spaces to operate the door mechanism. California Roll house features these latest technologies applied to architecture which breaks the boundary of product or vehicle design and architectural design which brings more mobility to living spaces.

Plain surface on the ground extended from exterior surface provides paved area for out door activities which requires flat and artificial surface different from desert sand surface. As well as surface on the ground, inside of exterior shell is covered with fibre reinforced plastic panels.

Modularized skylights and windows along the exterior surface can be placed at desired location to light its interior space to meet resident’s requirement from his own usage of the space.

Passive and subtle control of privacy of bedroom area is provided by curtain divider and bookshelf with translucent midpart. These parts allows the residents to have sense of privacy by delicate visual hints over as well as providing lights through.

Overall, the privacy in California Roll is controlled rather passively with resident’s awareness than tight blocking of spaces in-between.

Since the main entrance is on the sloped wall, the door mechanism should be designed in unconventional way. Adopting ideas from automotive design industry, hydraulic powered automatic door controlled by number lock panel is installed on the sloped wall as main entrance to minimize the space required for operation to avoid contact with user while in operation. When the door is fully open, the clearence height is up to 2 meters.

The door opens into two pieces, the upper piece lifts up over head, and the lower piece unfolds onto the floor for visitors to step on. When the door is completely closed, the material on the outside of door continues with the material of the exterior surface to achieve conformity and hide the entrance.

About 50,000 Burners, as attendees of the annual Burning Man festival are called, were expected to journey to the Black Rock Desert in Nevada this week for days of revelry in a makeshift city where art is everywhere but showers can be hard to come by. The festival, which began on Monday and runs through Monday, sold out in advance for the first time in its 25-year history.

Among those attending this year are neophytes Rachel Horn, a Los Angeles interior designer, and Justin Kreizel, her husband and business partner, who gutted and renovated a 180-square-foot 1969 Airstream trailer for the trip. The trailer, which they found on Craigslist for $5,000, has a working kitchen and a full bathroom, a living room, a bedroom and plenty of storage space. (Their budget for the entire project, including the trailer itself, was $20,000; as of this writing, what they actually spent had not been determined, but Ms. Horn said they had “gone way, way over budget.”)

The couple splits their time between Los Angeles, where they have an interior design firm and a showroom for Rachel Horn Home, their furniture and accessories line, and San Miguel de Allende, Mexico, where Ms. Horn grew up, and where they have another office and a retail store. Ms. Horn recently spoke with a reporter as she and Mr. Kreizel rushed to complete the interior design for the Airstream in California, for its maiden voyage to the festival.

How does it feel to go to Burning Man for the first time?

It’s definitely a big trip, especially if you’re a person like me who’s never even been camping. That’s part of the reason I’m providing myself with such a comfortable cocoon.

Why haven’t you ever been camping?

My parents were not campers — they were expatriate hippies who were living in New York and moved to Mexico, and had this very bohemian lifestyle. They just took us on trips in their tricked-out Volkswagen van. My dad put a Porsche engine in the van so it would go quite a bit faster than the normal 1972 VW van would, and so that it would run an air-conditioning system and an awesome stereo.

Then you have been car camping.

Well, we never slept in the car. Maybe it’s just that we didn’t have time to actually camp. We were always picking up and moving.

Have you done this kind of gut renovation to a home of your own before?

Top to bottom, in terms of gutting the space and starting over? Yes. But we have redone every single house we’ve ever leased, and we tend to move a lot because I like to be in different houses and do more projects. I get bored in a space when it’s done.

What was your vision for the Airstream interior?

It’s this beautiful, serene, elephant gray environment that has all these nomadic touches, and it’s really comfy and inviting.

What do you mean by nomadic touches?

The big thing is the Moorish influence — we have Moorish arches that separate the spaces. I’ve chosen Moorish-inspired fabrics, and then we have some wonderful lanterns and other accessories that are Turkish- or Persian-inspired.

So the design elements are meant to evoke nomadic cultures, as opposed to “We got this couch because the fabric is durable and we’re going to be tromping around in muddy boots”?

Actually, I have one bucket outside for muddy boots, and one bucket that you rinse your feet in before you come in. So yes, nomadic is about bringing in all the different cultures that were at some point or another, or still are, nomadic. But it isn’t really built to withstand a serious nomadic living situation. It’s luxe-nomadic.

Are the buckets part of the design?

They are. They’re galvanized buckets. They have to travel inside and then just be pulled out.

Most of the work you do is for clients with large homes. This must have been a big change for you.

Yes, that’s one reason this Airstream has been such a challenge. Most of our houses are over 10,000 square feet. That’s not to say we wouldn’t take projects that are smaller, because we do everything, but somehow we end up mostly doing very big homes. The average size of a master suite bathroom is the size of this Airstream. It’s made me really have to think differently about what’s going in.

I picked this gorgeous bamboo floor that I was just in love with. Well, we get the sample, and just one small piece of it was incredibly heavy. I loved it, I was so excited about it, I was all ready to order it. And Justin said, “It’s gorgeous, but we can’t use it. I can tell right now that by the square foot it’s going to be too heavy. You can’t add 500 pounds to this thing, the whole thing only weighs a few thousand.”

Do you have air-conditioning?

Oh, yes. We installed a fabulous, heavy-duty recirculating air-conditioner — it recirculates the air from the inside, and doesn’t bring in any air from the outside. That was something we specifically did for Burning Man.

For someone who has never been camping, Burning Man seems like a pretty extreme experience. What made you decide to go?

Justin has always wanted to go to Burning Man, and we have friends who go every year. There just has never been the right time — we either had too much work, or we were traveling. We have the time right now, and so he said, “Let’s do it.” And that’s the whole reason for the Airstream. I can definitely go be in the desert for the whole week, but I can’t just go and be in a tent. I definitely need a little something to hide in. Well, not hide — but a place to call home.

What are you going to do with the trailer after Burning Man?

I’m excited to go camping more. My husband calls it “glamping.”

What exactly does that entail?

I think having a bed, a shower and a cappuccino machine are requirements for glamping.

The eclectic interior design totally makes sense once you consider the history behind the building – it was once a charming late Victorian school, and has since been restored to the fresh and unique interior you see here. This apartment occupies the top floor, once a gymnasium. Mixed vintage chairs and industrial lights are the perfect way to balance the playful youthfulness of the space with a more mature, intimate appeal.

This chapel-loft situated in the quaint Flemish village of Bazel has been reconverted into 2 loft-type houses. The building was built in the second half of the 19th century by Countess Villain XIIII next to the castle of Wissekerke as a place where the children of the village could be educated.

The building later became derelict was sold and renovated into a residence. On the ground floor, you can find our offices, with windows overlooking the back garden. In the entrance hall, you still experience the grandeur of the architecture. The owners have kept the space quite open here, which makes the originally monumental and religious character of the building still tangible. The façade and especially the windows are so monumental that the rest of the architecture is logically subordinate to both this image and to the convenience of daily life.

Have a look at the loft of Antoon, Natascha and their two children

The Solo House from Pezo Von Ellrichshausen Architects is a visionary piece of neo-classical architecture, and the first of a collection of unique Solo Houses.

 Each of the outdoor rooms in the Pezo Solo House is arranged around the perimeter of a central sheltered courtyard that is completely open to the sky.

In a nod to the classical architecture of ancient Greece, the panoramic rotunda is meted out in regular intervals, with its sixteen columns at regular distances marching around the perimeter.

Because wood rots in the rainforest, the Solo House is built entirely in cast concrete, the concrete a reference to the rough wood it was cast in and to the color of the local limestone.

The stunning originality of the of the Solo House is clear in the plan. This is simply a pool at the center of a four-sided lookout.

As a result, the open-to-the-sky swimming pool at its center is almost like a private lake set into the top of a rocky mountain within a vast expanse of forest. A completely original idea.

The Solo House collection is an invitation-only collection from talented young international architects of innovative vacation homes that respond in a unique way to the environment. Studio Mumbai, Mos Office and Didier Faustino of Mésarchitectures are among others who have been invited to submit their ideas as well.

When asked about how it will fit the area, Ms. Glassberg said

We’re leaving the containers as they are. We feel when we cover the trim around the edges, it’s just going to look like a modern house

Panels were removed to make the doors, and lots of windows give the narrow space an open look. The construction uses the latest in green materials and technology: with the help of BNIM Architects, the house is using geothermal heat, soy foam insulation and bamboo flooring.

The container house is in the middle of a traditional block filled with bungalow homes.

(Neighbors are) always out watching. Sometimes we can’t get any work done because they want to talk about it. But all in all, we’ve had good reactions,

Glassberg said.

The house was built in about five months. It’s more than 2,000 square feet in area, has two bedrooms and a large office in back.

We love it. It’s great space for living, great for entertaining,

Glassberg said.

Debbie is a former toy accessory designer who hopes to make container houses the government could use for natural disaster victims, colleges could use for dorm space, and neighbors could use to expand existing homes.

More pictures on Flickr

The Johnny Carson show.

Bruce Townsley was up late one night in the mid-â€80s when he saw an unusual guest take a seat on Johnnyâ€s set: a nuclear missile base real estate mogul named Ed Peden. Peden lives in an abandoned missile base in Kansas and was invited on the show to tell Johnny all about his underground lifestyle. Townsley was hooked.

Using the pre-Google research librarians at the public library outside of Chicago where he then lived, Townsley tracked Peden down. And though it wasnâ€t until 1997 that Townsley secured his current property, the idea blossomed in his head over the years. After completing his fair share of conventional home remodels in the Chicago area, Townlsey wanted a challenge to keep him busy for the rest of his life. So far, his silo property has perfectly fit the bill.

Townselyâ€s tour begins in a corrugated steel quonset hut, one of the few above-ground structures on the site. The prefabricated and easily assembled structures became popular with the military during World War II and look like a tin can cut in half lengthwise. They were used as everything from barracks to warehouses to latrines.

The instructions to Townsleyâ€s place are simple: Head south of Abilene, nearly smack-dab in the middle of Texas, cross a couple of intersections, look for a small lump in the road with mailboxes sprouting out of the ground, and youâ€re there. At the end of the driveway, an American flag and array of solar panels provide the only evidence of habitation.

When purchasing an abandoned missile base, one must first realize that not all silos are created equal. Hundreds of missile facilities built by the military between 1960 and 1965 were quickly deactivated due to the changing political climate. Theyâ€re named for the type of missiles that they housed — Atlas E, Atlas F, Titan I, Titan II and Minuteman — and they vary widely in scope and function.

For example, Ed Pedenâ€s base is an Atlas E site, which means the missiles were stored horizontally in giant garages with retractable roofs. When it was time to fire, the roofs would open and the missiles would be raised vertically. They also contain a much more extensive underground bunker — a feature too daunting for Townsley.

“What the hell am I going to do?” asks Townsley. “Build a house inside a bunker? Too much room.”

Instead, with Pedenâ€s help, Townsley went with this Atlas F site. Here, a missile was stored vertically in an underground silo and the attached living quarters for the missiliers were more modest. More than 30 years after it was deactivated, Townsley bought the property in 1997 for $99,000. By 1999 he had moved in to the 2,200 sq ft. fixer-upper.

Above ground, Bruce Townsleyâ€s place bears little resemblance to the busy site it was in the early â€60s. Most working parts have been decommissioned. Buildings and parking lots have been removed and this escape hatch has been capped in thick concrete.

But not everything is out of order: In the background sit the two giant overhead silo doors. They cover the 185-foot hole in the ground where a missile armed with a nuclear warhead used to be. Townsley has managed to get one of these massive doors up and running. It took a bunch of local volunteers and a rented crane, but he finally cracked it open.

“I took out a loan against my truck to have a bracket built to be able to open the door,” said Townsley.

While Ed Pedenâ€s more horizontal Atlas E silo home requires hundreds of feet of tunnels to get to the living space, Townsleyâ€s vertical Atlas F site means lots and lots of stairs. Townsley takes this stairwell down to the first level of his house, which is where the old crew quarters (now his subterranean living space) is located.

The stairway ends at a set of 6,000-pound blast doors designed to keep occupants safe during a nuclear attack. The doors curve inward to offset the vacuum effect of a blast – keeping everything inside from being sucked out.

As an added safety feature, the white “latticed” debris door is hung to keep whatever an explosion carries into the tunnels from making it to the control room.

All four of the doors are still fully functional – a small miracle, considering that a number of blast doors from other Atlas F sites have since buckled under their weight. Having the functioning doors was a big selling point for Bruce. They are impressive in their size and precision, taking little more than a gentle shove to swing open.

Townsleyâ€s living space is about 1,100 square feet and completely round. The room is essentially a concrete bubble suspended from the large column in its center.

When the site was an active missile base, this room “floated” on massive springs. This let the room move both up and down and side to side, which would absorb a bomb blast in the event that the Russians managed to get a shot off. Now Townsley has replaced some of the springs with poles so the room can only sway side to side.

Townsley wouldnâ€t trust his house with a nuclear blast these days, but it does just fine in strong Texas thunderstorms.

Every room in the structure revolves around the center pillar like a clock — kitchen, living room, office, bedroom — all separated by short partition walls built by Townsley.

Townsley has a clean aesthetic. His tastes in furnishings have a simple, feng-shui vibe. Clutter disturbs the chi when you live in a round, totally open room, he says.

While Townsley had a lot of home remodeling experience in Chicago, nothing in the windy city prepared him for the demands of such a space. He has designed every detail in the room to fit its circular shape. The kitchen counter, for example, reflects the contour of the wall.

“The hardest part, says Townsley, “was learning how to drywall on a curve.”

Townsley says he also took some time adjusting to the subterranean lifestyle. “You have to get used to living without windows,” he says. “But I have a TV monitor [hooked up to] an aboveground video camera.” Another thing he didnâ€t expect was the noise, or lack thereof. “Itâ€s intensely quiet,” he says, “and Iâ€m a quiet freak. But there was a time when I had to keep a fan on all day just to have some noise.”

Another set of stairs leads down to a second floor identical in size and shape to the main room. Here, Townsley has installed a bathroom that could be showcased on the Home and Garden Network. Also tucked into this lower level is a Bowflex machine.

The tour of Townsleyâ€s home base doesnâ€t end here. Thereâ€s a much, much larger feature to his house – the 185 foot-deep missile silo.

To get to the silo requires navigating another set of blast doors and a corrugated steel tunnel. During the siloâ€s heyday, this tunnel would lead to a fully fueled, nuclear warhead equipped Atlas F missile, which was the U.S.â€s first attempt at a vertical in-ground launch system.

The missile was held in place with scaffolding, which was necessary since the Atlas missiles were basically thin aluminum shells filled with fuel. Instead of some internal framework, they were pressurized on the inside to stay upright. “If there was a leak,” Townsley says, “theyâ€d collapse like a Coke can.”

The tunnel exits about two-thirds of the way to the top of the silo. Townsley has hung a steel cable around a small platform – the only protection from a dark plunge to the bottom.

Some men tinker in the backyard shed. Others putz around the garage. Townsley has strung lights up in a 185-foot hole in the ground and has enough space and tools to tinker for the foreseeable future. And that suits him just fine. Heâ€d like to make the silo more presentable. Clean it up and restore it to a mock-up of its original condition.

But Townsely admits itâ€s “such a long-term project.” And, now that heâ€s got his underground bachelor pad all set up, thereâ€s no rush on the silo. “You play with it when you play with it,” he says.

Seen from below, the giant silo doors give little hint that thereâ€s a blue sky beyond. Such substantial doors required Townsley to get a little creative to prop it open. But the main tool is fairly pedestrian: “Itâ€s your standard hydraulic lift,” Townsley says. “Itâ€s just really big.”

Decades ago the lifts were a crucial part of the operation. Before the missile could be launched, the multi-ton, three-foot thick doors had to swing outward and allow an elevator to raise the missile toward the sky as quickly as possible. If an enemy attack was really underway, every second counted and vertical silos like these were soon preferential to the horizontal Atlas E silos, where the doors had to open and the missile raised upright.

Although the Atlas F silos were soon rendered obsolete by even faster missile launch systems, they became the template for all that followed.

“Everything after has been a vertical launch system,” Townsley says.

The hallway from the missile silo to the bunker is lined with the heavy blast doors intended to keep occupants safe during an attack. The doors curve inward, a design feature that, theoretically, would help offset the pull of the vacuum created by a nuclear explosion outside and keep them from being flung outward.

While those attacks thankfully never did come to pass, a handful of Atlas Fâ€s exploded in their silos and exposed one problem with the heavy steel doors. According to Townsely, during these “missile failures” the blast doors werenâ€t quite as strong a defense against forces going the opposite way. “Both sets of blast doors would blow in,” Townsley says, “Theyâ€d be defeated.” Luckily the debris doors held and kept any shrapnel from entering occupied areas.

Bored local teens ventured underground throughout the â€80s and early â€90s before Townsley took the place over. Their graffiti helps the silo serve another purpose – time capsule. Peace signs, (not yet in wide pop-cultural circulation during the early â€60s) became a popular symbol wherever nuclear warheads once resided. Other highlights include a “Regan/Bush 1991” scrawl and a spray-painted tribute to The Cure.

Across America these concrete slabs and giant doors cover very deep holes in the ground, somber mementos of a time when many Americans felt that the end of the world as they knew it was just the push of a button away.

When the silo was operational, both doors would swing open and an elevator would bring an Atlas F missile to the surface to be fired. But donâ€t expect many people to go to the lengths Townsely did to crack one open. In fact, just getting the one back up in working order was enough for Townsley. Aside from the logistical nightmare presented by their sheer size and weight, the doors were designed to open in a complicated synchronicity. Townsley didnâ€t want to spend all the time and effort needed to figure out how to recreate it.

“I was thrilled to death and called it a success with just one,” Townsley says.

As the tour ends, itâ€s time to let Townsley get back to his peace and quiet. Itâ€s hard not to wonder why someone would give up Chicago for rural Texas. All those glass skyscrapers for a literal hole in the ground. But like other civilians who are now putting abandoned silos to use, Townsley is a near expert on the history of these relics of American weaponry.

Besides, itâ€s the perfect location for someone whoâ€s self-reliant and likes his space. And as Townsley launches into another detail about Atlas missiles and underground bunkers, itâ€s obvious that heâ€s having a blast.

Originally appeared on Wired.com