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"A lot of people claim to be party people. They say they love sending out invitations, sitting down to convivial dinners that last late into the night, and cheerfully cleaning up the resultant mess before launching into yet another wide-armed welcome to dozens of their nearest and dearest. Reality, however, is often another story. But as Chicago-based designer Nate Berkus will attest, his clients Allison Adams and her husband, Robby, really are hosts with the most, happily overseeing charity benefits as well as pool parties for their daughters&amp;#039; school chums. Which explains why when the Tampa, Florida, couple decided to build a new house to address their lifestyle, they chose Berkus to decorate it.  &amp;quot;When we did our first place, we were young and not really sure what we wanted,&amp;quot; Allison says of their previous abode. &amp;quot;After living in it for three years we realized we wanted a swimming pool and much more space.&amp;quot; They turned to local architect Rick Penza to design a two-story, 6,500-square-foot villa, which the couple share with their two daughters, Dallas, 12, and Adelaide, 10, and a lively Australian shepherd mix named Lula. It is ringed with shaded terraces and backed by a rear courtyard with a glittering pool and a charming poolhouse/cabana. Though its rambling grandeur is influenced by the work of fabled Florida architect Addison Mizner, who put a Spanish colonial stamp on 1920s Palm Beach, the Adamses&amp;#039; new house is a contemporary creation\u2014crisp, clean-lined, and warmly modern, encased in native limestone and accented with cedar and painted plaster. &amp;quot;It&amp;#039;s like our own little boutique hotel,&amp;quot; Allison says.   The four-bedroom house has that same stylish resort vibe indoors, thanks to Berkus&amp;#039;s eclectic sensibility, where appreciation for traditional craftsmanship meets admiration for the slick and mod. In fact the Adamses only brought along a couple of pieces of furniture from their last residence, preferring to put the decorating reins in Berkus&amp;#039;s celebrated hands. &amp;quot;All my friends ask, &amp;#039;You really didn&amp;#039;t choose the paint color? You really didn&amp;#039;t choose the sofas?&amp;#039;&amp;quot; Allison says, laughing. &amp;quot;I trusted Nate from our first meeting. He understood our lifestyle, and as time went on, every piece of furniture he showed us we loved. We enjoy the contrast of old and new, but he took it to another level.&amp;quot;  A case in point is the 18th-century Gustavian bench in the travertine-walled great room, its neoclassical form unexpectedly upholstered in pale-blue chiffon and positioned alongside a low-slung ottoman of gleaming chrome and creamy white leather. That daredevil juxtaposition, leaping across centuries and styles in the blink of an eye, might startle some observers, but it somehow works. Berkus, who was introduced to the couple by their architect, says, &amp;quot;My goal was to furnish the house with things Allison and Robby will have for a long time. It&amp;#039;s an accumulation of objects we all love collectively.&amp;quot;  As accumulations go, it&amp;#039;s a wide-ranging one. That span is put front and center right from the moment the door opens to the entrance hall. White-walled and paved in slabs of limestone, the sun-drenched space contains little more than a hemp-rope-wrapped center table by Christian Astuguevieille and a pair of 1940s gilt-metal stools by Jacques Adnet parked beneath large ink-dark etchings by Richard Serra. The collection of objects in the great room beyond is even broader, including a custom-made lacquered-oak cabinet by Berkus and a pair of superchic PK9 chairs designed in the early &amp;#039;60s by Danish genius Poul Kjaerholm. Floor-to-ceiling silk curtains the color of a mourning dove&amp;#039;s wing frame a Lucite-top &amp;#039;60s Paul Laszlo table and bamboo-look brass armchairs made in the &amp;#039;40s by Maison Jansen. &amp;quot;I&amp;#039;m a big fan of bringing a sense of age to new construction,&amp;quot; Berkus says. &amp;quot;I always reach for things that are a little worn-out.&amp;quot; Hence the artfully distressed herringbone floor, each individual piece hand-scraped to evoke the soulfulness of a historic ch\u00E2teau, and the saddle-leather floor tiles in the glamorous study, where a bar overlooks the swimming pool. &amp;quot;I thought a leather floor would be ridiculous!&amp;quot; she recalls, worried her friends&amp;#039; stilettos would destroy the chestnut hides. &amp;quot;But Nate convinced us that the more it gets scuffed, the better it will look. And he was right.&amp;quot; Ditto the designer&amp;#039;s decision to fit the stainless-steel cabinetry in the kitchen with gleaming brass knobs, a swaggering juxtaposition that recalls a Rolex watch. &amp;quot;That combination surprised me,&amp;quot; Allison observes. &amp;quot;But the brass keeps the steel from looking sterile.&amp;quot; That&amp;#039;s exactly the reaction her designer was hoping for. As Berkus notes, &amp;quot;Old materials provide a feeling of naturalness and stability.&amp;quot; And what house couldn&amp;#039;t use more of those?  Click here to see the gallery for &amp;quot;High Style in Florida.&amp;quot;  "^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
<http://www.elledecor.com/design-decorate/house-interiors/a4008/high-style-in-florida-a-65133/>