Where style is a mish-mash and nothing is new

(The narrow entrance hallway of the apartment is typical of 1930s era walkups in Plateau Mont Royal. It's cozy and solid. The honey hardwood floors contrast warmly with the dark wood doors. Laurel Baker, 33, is an easy-going editor originally from Western Canada who has a preference for places and things with a definite history.)

What makes your home your home? Is it more the place or the objects in it?

Laurel Baker: For sure it's the objects in it. No question. In fact, the last place I was in (a loft-style space) was completely different but it ended up looking kind of the same because of the stuff. It's the belongings. (My style) is a mish-mash. My tastes are very eclectic. But I guess the one common thread is that nothing is new. Everything is old; stuff ranging from the 1920s to the 1980s. I'm not fetishistic about it. I don't collect any era in particular. I just like things that I think are cute and charming and kind of old.

I'm guessing you like to shop in second-hand stores.

Baker: The first thing I bought in Quebec City (we walk down the hall and into the front room, with a bedroom area and a living room area) was my Venetian lamp, which actually has subsequently chipped and I was kind of sad about it. The ceramic base is painted like wood and it depicts a gondola with a gondolier on it and a couple snuggling. He's supposed to have a paddle or an oar or something to steer (but it's missing). It was $15 and, being from British Columbia where old things tend to be really expensive, this was a great find.

(We walk across the room.)

Baker: The second thing that was bought for me from the same cute little store in Quebec City was this little decorative plate. It's 1970s style with a line drawing showing a man's face and some stars. It seems to me that decorative plates are too frivolous to purchase. I see furniture as being practical. I buy impractical furniture because it serves a practical purpose.

OK, wait. How is your furniture impractical?

Baker: It's not, necessarily. You buy furniture because you have to buy furniture and because you like it. But I'm more interested in how it looks than how comfortable it is. I've slept on this couch and it's not bad. The couch, armchair and lamp are part of the uncool teak era; very late Danish modern from the late 1970s. When you walk down to the stores on Amherst St., they have late Danish stuff (but from the 1960s) and it's all priced at, like, $600 or whatever. I got this at (a used-furniture store in) Beaurepaire, in Beaconsfield. It's a charity shop. I like it; I just mean it's not high-end like the '60s stuff.

Tell me about this window. (The large, multi-paned wood-framed window has carved glass in it.) Is it stained glass? And why don't you have curtains?

Baker: Does stained glass have to be coloured? I get little prisms on the wall when the sun comes in. It's kind of nice. But it's not super bright because it's north-facing. I hate curtains. I have some; they're sitting on a chair, folded. I wear a sleep mask. I wouldn't cover this up with curtains anyway.

Who's the guy above your bed? (A hanging carpet above the bed shows a man's face intently staring out. It's bath mat-sized and mesmerizing.)

Baker: That's Ataturk, the father of the Turks. You know when people go to Turkey they always come back with these massive Turkish carpets and they ship them back. But I was backpacking at the time. I was a student. I didn't have any money. I was just, like, well no one can say this isn't Turkish. It has Ataturk on it.

(We walk up stairs inside the rear of the apartment building and to the roof. There is a small, roughly 15-feet-by-15-feet wood deck with a fence, table and lounge chairs on it.)

Baker: This is a community space. It's not used that much. I used this many times in the summer, for having coffee and being on my laptop and doing some work. Or, for having friends over for a glass of wine. (When other residents are up here, too) I just say "salut, bonjour." You clink glasses. You meet each other. I've come up here a few times when it's just turned into a big table of people and conversation. And another time, two people were having a quiet romantic thing (in the corner) and five of us were over here. That's part of the charm of the city. It's living so close to other people.