Austin Interior Designer Amity Worrel of Amity Worrel & Co., took a week-long architectural tour through France, courtesy of Maison Janneau.

Every profession has its perks, and this spring I experienced one that felt particularly French: being invited to celebrate a successful project not with a plaque or a gift basket, but with a week-long architectural pilgrimage through Paris and beyond.

The invitation came from Maison Janneau, the storied French window and door manufacturer whose products we specified for a new-build residence in Austin. Apparently, when the French appreciate your collaboration, they don’t send a thank-you note—they invite you to France.

Our group was an eclectic mix of Maison Janneau team members, architects from Austin and New York, and an architecture magazine editor. As the only interior designer, I found myself in an unfamiliar but fascinating position. While our professions overlap constantly, designers and architects rarely get the chance to spend extended time together away from project deadlines and active job sites. Immersing myself in architecture alongside a cohort deeply focused on the built environment gave me a fresh perspective on how differently we approach the exact same spaces.

The Cast of Characters

At times, our group felt less like accomplished design professionals and more like a collection of suspects gathered in an Agatha Christie mystery. We huddled around dinner tables, leaned over drawings in archives, and wandered through museums together, leaving me to wonder who might turn up missing by morning if this were indeed a whodunit.

Would it be the somewhat hapless interior designer—the one who insists on dressing to the nines for every occasion and cracks jokes at odd moments in search of attention? A likely first victim, if we’re being honest. Or perhaps the husband-and-wife architect duo, impeccably buttoned-up and just suspicious enough of the rest of us to make ideal suspects.

Then there was the handsome architect who carried the energy of everyone’s favorite slightly goofy uncle. Entirely unselfconscious in the most charming way, his enthusiasm for every structural joint, historic facade, and engineering detail kept him perpetually inches from trouble. He was so eager to explore that the rest of us were never entirely convinced he wouldn’t accidentally trigger an alarm, topple into a reflecting pool, or wander past an “Employees Only” sign.

Anchoring us all was a remarkably kind magazine editor who quietly became the group’s caretaker. Midway through the journey, my persistent cough evolved from a mild nuisance into something concerning. Without fanfare, he appeared with medicine and checked in on me throughout the day. Perhaps he was simply sparing the group from listening to me cough through another gallery, but I prefer to believe it was genuine concern. Either way, I was profoundly grateful.

The architecture throughout our journey was extraordinary, offering a masterclass in proportion, material harmony, and atmosphere.

Day One: Aalto in the forest

Our first major stop was the extraordinary Maison Louis Carré, the only private residence in France designed by Alvar Aalto. Tucked into a wooded landscape outside Paris, the house feels remarkably contemporary despite being completed in the late 1950s. Every nuance—from how natural light washes across a room to the organic dialogue between the custom furniture and the structural envelope—reveals a rare intentionality.

As an interior designer, I was captivated by how seamlessly the architecture and interiors coalesce. Nothing feels added after the fact; every surface, sightline, and material belongs exactly where it rests. It set the tone for the entire trip: design as a unified, holistic experience.

Day Two: Grandeur and treasure hunting

Paris makes ambitious architecture feel effortless, nowhere more visibly than at the Fondation Louis Vuitton. Designed by Frank Gehry, the structure rises from the Bois de Boulogne like an ethereal ship of glass sails. From a distance it seems impossible; up close, it feels even more improbable.

That afternoon brought us to the Marché aux Puces de Saint-Ouen, where we collectively lost all sense of time and restraint. If the Fondation represented structural daring at its peak, the flea market represented design at its most joyful. Every turn yielded an antique or curio someone desperately wanted to crate and ship back to the States.

Day Three: Ideas, icons, and a château

One of the distinct pleasures of traveling with architects is seeing the buildings they revere. Our morning began at the Bibliothèque Sainte-Geneviève, where Henri Labrouste’s soaring cast-iron framework demonstrates how structural engineering can achieve pure poetry.

Later, we visited Le Corbusier’s Villa Savoye. Standing inside a building I had studied for years in design history courses felt surreal; certain icons are so influential they become almost mythical. That evening, we gathered at the Château de Nainville-les-Roches, where conversations stretched into the night. We debated design philosophies, exchanged field stories, and turned professional acquaintances into lasting friendships.

Day Four: Modernity, and atmosphere

At La Samaritaine, we observed how historic preservation and contemporary retail architecture can coexist gracefully. Later, the gardens of the Musée Albert-Kahn offered a meditative contrast. Wandering through landscapes inspired by cultures across the globe reminded me that rich French design inspiration extends well beyond physical walls. Shaping atmosphere, movement, and emotional resonance is one of the most powerful forms of design there is.

Day Five: Craftsmanship, hospitality, and ice cream

The final leg of our journey brought us to Nantes for an intimate look at the artisan manufacturing that brought our group together. The highlight was spending time with Henry Janneau, owner of Maison Janneau. Despite the language barrier, his passion required no translation.

After more than five decades leading the company, he remains intimately engaged, deeply proud, and enthusiastic about introducing authentic French architectural craftsmanship to American homes. Being personally guided through the workshops by an artisan who has dedicated 53 years to perfecting bespoke fenestration was unforgettable. He welcomed us with such generosity that we felt less like visiting specifiers and more like honored family friends.

And then came the gelato. Anyone who knows me knows I have few non-negotiable rules in life, but one is simple: if ice cream is available, I am ordering it. Paris offered plenty of opportunities to honor this rule, but in Nantes my enthusiasm peaked when I spotted a celebrated local gelateria and took position first in line. Enthusiasm proved contagious. One by one, the architects and editors abandoned their professional reserve and queued up behind me.

Minutes later, a distinguished group of design leaders responsible for major civic and residential projects stood clustered in a public park, clutching cones and racing against the afternoon sun before chocolate dripped down our cuffs. We looked less like high-profile tastemakers and more like schoolchildren on a field trip. It remains one of my fondest memories of the journey.

What I’ll Remember Most is the People

The monuments were breathtaking, the historic gardens were unforgettable, and the Parisian flea markets pushed our baggage allowances to the brink. Yet what endures most are the relationships. Immersive travel compresses time: in a matter of days, professional contacts become trusted friends, and conversations evolve far past routine business.

Spending a week immersed in architectural thinking gave me a renewed appreciation for how our disciplines intersect. Interior designers craft the lived sensory experience—the warmth underfoot, the textiles, the intuitive flow. Architects shape the structural envelope, proportions, and daylighting. Neither vantage point is complete on its own; joined together, they produce homes that feel timeless.

I returned to Austin with immense gratitude: to Maison Janneau for their hospitality, to Henry Janneau for opening his doors so warmly, and to my fellow travelers for their humor and wisdom. For one extraordinary week, I was invited into a world of inspiring buildings, fascinating thinkers, and more gelato than any grown woman strictly needs. This unforgettable architectural study tour gave me rich design travel inspiration that will continue to inform our work at Amity Worrel & Co. for years to come.

What an Architectural Study Tour Teaches Interior Designers

• Holistic Integration: Visiting Alvar Aalto’s Maison Louis Carré reinforced that interiors should never be treated as decorative afterthoughts; true design resonance occurs when architecture, light, and interior millwork are conceived as one continuous dialogue.
• Curated Tension: Juxtaposing high-concept landmarks like Frank Gehry’s Fondation Louis Vuitton with vintage treasure hunting at Marché aux Puces de Saint-Ouen demonstrates how layering historic texture against modern architecture brings depth and warmth to a home.
• The Value of Artisanal Detailing: Experiencing French architectural craftsmanship firsthand at Maison Janneau confirmed that custom, legacy-grade windows and doors form the structural soul of high-end residential spaces.
• Complementary Perspectives: Architects structure volume, mass, and environmental systems, while interior designers shape tactile comfort, human flow, and emotional intimacy. When the two disciplines collaborate closely, the resulting spaces are incomparably richer.

Looking to bring timeless European design inspiration and bespoke architectural details into your own residence? Explore the Amity Worrel & Co. portfolio or contact our Austin interior design studio to start your next project.