Recently, while Mattos was out of town, Gohar threw an impromptu 30-person birthday party for a friend. The timing wasn’t ideal. Nevertheless, she roasted four chickens and found a spot for every guest. “I like when everyone sits during dinner,” she says. “There’s a ceremonial aspect to it.” Preconceived notions about formality blur in this household where the mantra is clear: “Nice things shouldn’t be saved for special occasions.”
Gohar, wearing Gohar World metallic opera gloves, in the kitchen with Mattos and Paz. Sink by Brizo.
In this loft, everything stirs together—a Le Corbusier chaise longue next to Paz’s toys, exotic stones beside antique textiles. “I’m a big believer in living with your stuff,” says Gohar, who roasted those aforementioned chickens in a Courrèges vinyl minidress. “I feel uncomfortable when things are too precious.” This is the sentiment behind Gohar World, whose products bring the tongue-in-cheek playfulness of her installations to a wider audience. A beautiful Italian pastry is actually a candle. A tiny stainless-steel bird squeezes your lemon wedge. And famously, a skinny bow-bedecked satin bag is made for toting your baguette.
Bringing a kid into the mix has only made the home more fun. When Paz was a baby, they tried to childproof the place. “We bought the things and put them on the corners,” Gohar recalls. “But he ripped them off and threw them on the ground, and we were like, ‘Okay, well there goes that attempt.’” Instead, they let him adapt to the environment, cohabitating with stuff just as they do. Of course, there are occasional casualties, like the Noguchi lamp that was a gift from their friend, the late lighting legend Ingo Maurer. “One day we walked into the room and Paz was eating the paper. He actually ate the lamp,” recalls Gohar, laughing. Can you blame the child of an artist who has made a quilt out of flatbread, and statues out of butter? Why shouldn’t the lamp be edible as well?