French Connection

A Parisian's Romantic Sensibility Meets a Washingtonian's Bachelor Flat

Claudine Sorel grew up in Paris, where she developed her romantic sense of style and her gift for creating charming rooms blending old and new. After a divorce, she started a design business in Bulgaria in 1999.

Mark Bloomfield, a Washington lobbyist and economic policy wonk, hadn't changed his bachelor apartment since 1978, when he moved into a stately co-op building just off Meridian Hill Park with a truckload of Danish modern furniture from Scan and a collection of tin soldiers.

Four years ago, as Bloomfield says, "we decided to embark on the second half of our lives together." Sorel, now 51, and Bloomfield, now 59, were married in his quirky duplex flat, with its own birdcage elevator, 1950s kitchen and replica of an 18th-century ship captain's room. Already en route by sea from Paris's 16th arrondissement were a container of Sorel's family antiques, vintage kitchen canisters, modern paintings, yellow stockpots, candlesticks, Bulgarian chests and a silver champagne bucket.

Fortunately, Sorel has what seems to be a national instinct for combining periods and styles, arranging collections and showing off treasures to best advantage. The couple's two-bedroom co-op is now an urban retreat incorporating French, American, Bulgarian and other global influences.

There are touches of French country: terra cotta and mustard paint colors, rustic tiles and toile fabrics and wallpaper. Elegantly proportioned armchairs and small Old World desks fit nicely into the architecture of the 1925-era co-op, which features arched doorways, glossy wood floors and classic fireplaces. Lamps topped by fabric shades of Sorel's own design lend a soft glow. Loose bouquets of roses and stacks of books have an unstudied look. Sorel mixes painted chests from India picked up at Bazaar Atlas in Adams Morgan with her family's gilt-edged Limoges china.

"The details make the difference," Sorel says. "You can do a lot without spending a lot of money if you look at the small things in your house. This flat is a melting pot, a combination of crazy stuff."

Bloomfield, a marathon runner, is president of the American Council for Capital Formation, an advocacy organization and think tank. For decades, he hosted economic strategy salons of policymakers, journalists and members of Congress in his apartment, entertaining such guests as Al Gore, Joe Lieberman and Dan Quayle on rented tables with catered food.

Sorel, who has two grown daughters, studied hotel management in Switzerland, took decorative arts courses in painted finishes in Paris and designed a line of furniture. The two met in Bulgaria.

On her first visit to the apartment in 2004, Sorel eyed off-white walls, beige wall-to-wall carpeting and a dated kitchen with little in it besides bottled water and power bars. A previous owner had installed a replica of a captain's bunk from a 19th-century Spanish galleon with mahogany paneling in the guest bedroom. "I was stunned at this strange and unique place," Sorel says of the apartment that a year later would become her home.

Like French fashion, French design has a timeless quality, and it has always been part of the Washington decorating scene. There is a growing stable of places to buy it: aluminum bar stools by Philippe Starck from Design Within Reach, rooster pillows from Pierre Deux or well-worn leather Louis XV-style armchairs from Sparrows in Kensington. But Sorel discovered certain French accessory staples were not available in America.

In 2007, she founded an online business, Les Caprices de Claudine (http://www.lescaprices.us). Her hand-painted lampshades, decoupage plates, dog paintings on wood and customized hand-painted tablecloths and bed linens are produced in small workshops in France. From Bulgaria, she imports bronze miniatures. She is starting a decorating business here and has been hired by the Jefferson Hotel to create Le Jacquard Francais table linens for its new restaurant and bar.

She needed all her talents to make over Bloomfield's bachelor digs while keeping the Old World patina. She salvaged three Scan sofas in the living room and had them slipcovered. Her mother-in-law's portrait hangs over the mantel. She added texture with tile: in the entrance hall, antique travertine from St. Tropez; and in the bathrooms, kitchen and lower hall, hand-painted cement tiles from France's Toulouse area.

She recalled the south of France for the kitchen and master bedroom. The kitchen's metal cabinets were coated in Van Gogh yellow. She added stainless appliances and had a small table built-in by the window. In the bedroom, Sorel piled the iron bed with Ralph Lauren linens in the red-and-blue floral Cote d'Azur pattern. She bought toile lampshades at Pierre Deux and chose a Pierre Frey toile wallpaper in French blue.

Sorel is happy the flat finally feels like their place. "I sort of crashed into his life, and that isn't easy," she says. "But he accepted me and all my things, too." The small office is a favorite spot. "I sit at my father's desk surrounded by books and photos while working on my laptop and look out the window over these two small armchairs that have been with me for years. I feel warm and cozy."

Bloomfield is delighted. "This place used to look like a dorm; it was just a place for me to sleep," he says. "Now, when I walk in I have a smile across my face."