Remodel of fashion designer's new family home unlocks hidden potential of historic estate. A major renovation reimagines a historic 3-acre country estate in Minnesota. A new floor plan layout and interiors modernize the home with a contemporary look and flow for a young California family.

What if the best kind of play isn't the safest? For decades, cities have built playgrounds to be clean, colorful, and easy to supervise. Yet these spaces—designed more for adult peace of mind than for children's curiosity—often strip away what makes play truly transformative: risk, unpredictability, and self-direction. Rising safety standards, shrinking public space, and the commercialization of play equipment have only further narrowed the possibilities for children's independent exploration. From a junkyard in 1940s Copenhagen to the concrete landscapes of postwar Amsterdam, a handful of architects, planners, and activists have challenged the idea that play must be neat and controlled. Their unconventional playgrounds—made of loose parts, raw materials, and abstract forms—gave children the freedom to build, demolish, explore, and get dirty.

The Miradora is a dwelling located in the central highlands of Ecuador, in the páramo ecosystem at 3403 meters above sea level. The elongated plot has access on one end from a local road and, on the other, a large ravine. On either side, neighboring prairies and large volcanoes define the location of the house. It sits at the highest point of the lot and takes advantage of a slight slope to open up to all views and organize its interior.

Two students sit one desk apart. One excels in science. The other struggles. One receives praise, the other criticism. One gains confidence, the other slowly loses it. It's easy to assume the difference comes down to effort, parenting, or natural ability. But what if the real factor was the classroom itself? Imagine the student who fell behind sat at a desk flooded with glare from poorly placed windows every single day. With fixed homeroom seating, they couldn't move. Over time, that small but constant distraction turned into disengagement, and disengagement eroded their confidence. A chain reaction triggered not by effort, but by design.