A Guide to Collecting with Brownrigg and Sibyl Colefax & John Fowler

INTERVIEWS | MASTERS & MUSES | WORLD OF CABANA

Three industry experts, decorator Philip Hooper, joint managing director of Sibyl Colefax & John Fowler, and Brownrigg founders, George Paris Martin and David Gibson, share an insider’s guide to collecting and living with antique objects and furniture. The trio's shared knowledge and experience reveals the instinctive art of sourcing, collecting, falling in love with, and living with antiques.

INTERVIEW BY EMMA BECQUE | MASTERS & MUSES | 28 NOVEMBER 2025

Decorator Philip Hooper, joint managing director of Sibyl Colefax & John Fowler. 

Most collections begin by accident, a chair bought on instinct, a painting from a market, a vase that refuses to be left behind. Over time, these impulsive purchases accumulate, forming the beginnings of a collection and shaping the personality of a home.

For those who work within interiors, this instinctive process becomes a curiosity-driven craft. Few embody that balance more completely than Philip Hooper, joint managing director of Sibyl Colefax & John Fowler, and George Paris Martin and David Gibson, founders of Brownrigg, whose lives revolve around sourcing, placing, and understanding objects.

After joining Sibyl Colefax & John Fowler 25 years ago, Philip, a trained architect, set about refreshing the house’s approach to English decorating. “I wanted to bring a slightly different way of doing things. The classic look has always included antiques, but I see it as using them in a way that feels relevant today. We are eclectic by instinct, but everything still has its reason for being there," he explains. 

George Paris Martin and David Gibson have spent three decades building Brownrigg in Tetbury, an antiques destination defined by their meticulous detective work for coveted collectables and their ability to layer periods. “We’ve been going for nearly 30 years,” says Gibson. “We source pieces across three or four centuries, mainly European, and supply private clients, decorators, and designers, like Philip.”

A collection of antiques sourced by Brownrigg for Sibyl Colefax & John Fowler, shot at Sibyl Colefax & John Fowler on London's Pimlico Road.

Their shop is a labyrinth of rooms that convey varying chapters in historical design, an education in how objects speak to one another. “The website is important,” adds Martin, “but the shop still matters. People need to touch things. That’s how they understand proportion, surface, and quality.”

From Hobby to Passion

Martin's journey into antiques began with selling the contents of his first flat in Brighton. “A hobby became a passion that became a business,” he recalls. Gibson’s path was rather unique. “I trained as a lawyer,” he says. “As a child, I could describe exactly where every piece of furniture stood in my grandparents’ houses, which explains a lot. When I met George, I began helping with what he was building. Eventually, I left the law to do this full-time. It works because we balance each other. I’m the organiser; he’s the eye.”

For all three, collecting begins with affection, rather than a trained expertise. “You have to have things around you that you love,” says Hooper. “They can come from any century. What matters is that they build a story you want to live with. I remember where I bought everything: the day, the journey, and the person from whom I made the purchase. That memory gives an object its place in your life.”

A collection of antiques sourced by Brownrigg for Sibyl Colefax & John Fowler, shot at Sibyl Colefax & John Fowler on London's Pimlico Road.

Martin agrees. “Buy what you like. We mix constantly. Some things cost very little, while others are serious investments; the only rule is that you like them. I’ve always been drawn to pieces that make me feel something. I sell things from my own house only to trade them for something better. You can’t really be a dealer and a collector, but I try.”

Patience and Realism

Gibson adds that collecting requires both patience and realism, encouraging first-time collectors to think before making a purchase. “Part of the reason we keep a shop is to inspire people. Seeing things arranged together helps them understand what they respond to. The question of budget matters as much as taste. If you pay more than you can afford, you might resent the piece later. However, I’m quite happy with beans on toast if it means living with something beautiful," he muses.

For Hooper, the hierarchy of buying has undergone significant changes, where auctions used to feel closed to the public. “That’s no longer true," he says. "Everyone browses online now. But nothing replaces the physical experience. Shops matter because you can feel the scale of things. Towns like Tetbury or Petworth are wonderful because you can walk, look, and compare. Hidden treasures do still exist. The search, and chase, keeps it exciting.”

Phillip Hooper's forensic eye for antique sourcing is evident within in his yellow adorned bedroom. Image by Simon Brown Photography. 

“Auctions are fantastic,” says Martin, “but you need to know what you’re doing. Some pieces have been altered or over-restored. I know a restorer who once made a pair of chests from a single one and sent them to auction. They looked convincing but weren’t right. You learn those things over time. In a shop, by contrast, everything has been handled, restored, and finished to perfection. You can just take it home and live with it.”

Be Brave, Take Risks 

Mistakes, they all agree, are inevitable when starting a collection, and, in part, necessary. “Everyone makes mistakes,” says Gibson. “There is no right answer. What you do in your home may not appeal to me, and vice versa. You just have to be brave.” Hooper nods. “I’ve bought things that later didn’t feel right, but you learn more from those than from the successes. And sometimes, with time, they suddenly make sense again.”

Asked about their first purchases, their answers reveal the persistence of early taste. “The first thing I bought of any consequence was a set of William Morris chairs,” says Hooper. “I was obsessed with the arts and crafts movement of the 1980s. I paid £500 for four, which was half my wages at the time. They were the only things I had to sit on in my new house, but I was so proud of them.”

A collection of antiques sourced by Brownrigg for Sibyl Colefax & John Fowler, shot at Sibyl Colefax & John Fowler on London's Pimlico Road.

Martin remembers a blue-and-white vase bought in Spain when he was 21, carried home in a backpack. “It was a lot of money for me, but I still have it. It represents that first sense of discovery. Once you’ve felt that, you’re hooked.” Gibson smiles. “I won a rather bad little oil painting in a village raffle as a child. It’s still in my house in Cornwall. Then there was a Victorian copper masthead light from a jumble sale.” 

The Art of Restraint

Hooper explains how modern rooms benefit from the patina of age: "You can be as minimal with antiques as with modern furniture. Treat a beautiful piece as a sculpture. Give it air and light so you can see its line.” He remembers visiting the renowned Belgian designer and antique dealer, Axel Vervoordt, early in his career. “Seeing early furniture set against white walls changed everything. It taught me that a good piece, no matter what its origin, can hold its own anywhere.”

Gibson shares a similar lesson. “We had a Swedish client who bought two contemporary apartments near the Tate Modern and wanted to fill them with Gustavian furniture. We suggested he bring only the two pieces. They sat almost alone and looked magnificent. Had he brought everything, it would have been overwhelming.”

Restraint is key when collecting for specific spaces; for the Brownrigg founders, learning to edit is part of the pleasure. “We’ve just bought a small Art Deco flat,” says Gibson. “It’s going to be completely deco - a fireplace, a few lacquer pieces, and we’ll build from there. The test will be whether we can control ourselves.”

A collection of antiques sourced by Brownrigg for Sibyl Colefax & John Fowler, shot at Sibyl Colefax & John Fowler on London's Pimlico Road.

Both Brownrigg and Hooper encourage new collectors to start by looking at objects and training their eye, by visiting collections such as the furniture galleries at the V&A. “You can see how design evolved from Tudor through to Art Nouveau, and the way things are displayed helps you understand proportion”, says Hooper.

"Every object earns its place"

He also cites Kettle’s Yard as a touchstone. “It mixes primitive furniture with 20th-century art in a way that feels unforced. Every object earns its place.” Gibson nods in agreement. “Kettle’s Yard shows how personal a collection can be - everything there has meaning. If there’s a row of pebbles on a table, those pebbles have to stay. That level of care is what collecting is about. It teaches you to look again before moving anything.”

When the conversation turns to the objects they would never part with, their responses reveal layers of personal history and devotion. Philip recalls the late-1940s Italian cabinet painted like a Harlequin costume: “It’s such a simple piece but full of character. I’ll always keep it.” George speaks of a bronze sculpture given for his 50th: “It has presence. You want to touch it every time you walk past.” For David, the anchor is a painting: “It would have to be a painting. They get me every time - the emotion, the moment I bought them. Wherever you end up, you can take a painting with you.”

A collection of antiques sourced by Brownrigg for Sibyl Colefax & John Fowler, shot at Sibyl Colefax & John Fowler on London's Pimlico Road.

"Never forget the beans-on-toast rule"

Their advice to new collectors is informed by decades of experience. Hooper emphasises beginning with something you honestly respond to rather than chasing trends. Martin urges intuition: “If you really want it, buy it.” Gibson distils it with wit and practicality: “Spend what you can live with, and never forget the beans-on-toast rule.”

As they reflect on the journey, it becomes clear that collecting is not merely about accumulation or acquisition. It is an education in seeing, an ongoing conversation between the object, the maker, and the owner, and a way of living that sharpens perception. Hooper puts it plainly: “Living with old things teaches you to look more closely at everything else.”

If there is one final thought, it is this: in a world where everything is new and replaced, what remains of value is not simply the piece you buy, but the time you live with it, the story it carries, and the home it helps shape.