Metahaiku's Eclectic Mid-Century Rental is a Californian Dream

When I meet Metahaiku founders Amy and Davy, they’re just days away from becoming first-time parents. Brimming with excitement unique to those on the cusp of a life-changing adventure, the couple is clearly relishing every moment. They’re playful, optimistic, and firmly in their nesting era.

The space has taken on a new dimension over the nine months they’ve lived there as they prepare for the transition from chic home-studio to toddler's playground. "When the baby comes, whatever changes [to the home] that need to happen, will happen, so we can just have fun with our kid," Amy says.

Hidden behind an unassuming façade which they describe as having less-than-stellar curb appeal, is what the duo affectionately describe as a "glass jewel box”. Floor-to-ceiling windows welcome the Southern Californian sunshine into the living area, illuminating vintage furnishings and sentimental treasures. "It's very transportive," says Amy of the home's unexpected interior. "We were instantly pretty sold on it."

The home was built in 1950 at the pinnacle of mid-century design, so its bones are timeless. Over the decades, successive residents have left their mark with quirky architectural details that remain today. And while it’s not all strictly on-trend, Amy and Davy are delighted to have inherited a home with character. Case in point: the distinctly '90s kitchen with its oak cabinets, embellished tiles ("The pop of pink is really fun!") and a two-tier kitchen island ("It makes it kind of like a sushi counter vibe"), where they are already dreaming of making pancakes with their little one.

When Orson Welles said, "The enemy of art is the absence of limitation," he may not have been referring to styling a rental, but the logic applies. The constraints of renting mean Amy and Davy can only make superficial changes, forcing them to get creative with the elements they can control. "I think if we had moved in knowing we could remove anything, we would have changed a lot, but because we're renters it's really shifted the way we've approached the house," says Amy.

Being unable to invest in permanent renovations also allows them to splurge a little more than they might have otherwise on décor that makes the space feel like their own. "We're not above wasting a bit of money to make our home happy for the time being," laughs Davy.

Despite being only a 12-minute drive from their previous home (an industrial loft in downtown LA), they feel a world away in Glendale. During a stroll through their sleepy, tree-lined neighbourhood they might encounter towering redwoods, tropical parrots, hawks, lizards, and coyotes. “Access to nature here is really special,” says Amy. The flourishing trees in their yard yield grapefruits and avocados, offering a taste of California that still feels novel to a pair raised in the Midwest.

The evolution of Metahaiku mirrors the evolution of Amy and Davy's relationship. What began as two independent creative practices gradually became a shared one, with the pair spending years "parallel playing" – helping each other on projects before eventually merging their work into a single agency. Amy is drawn to details, while Davy prefers to zoom out and consider the bigger picture. Their approach is intentionally relaxed. "It's PR, not the ER," says Amy, summing up the low-pressure philosophy that underpins both their business and home life.

Most days are spent working foot-to-foot on the couch, laptops balanced on the back cushions as they bounce ideas back and forth. To break up the day, they regularly head out on phone-free "work walks", a ritual that helps separate work from life – even if, as Davy admits, the two often blur together before they've finished their morning coffee.

“I go to bed dreaming about coffee,” Davy jokes, rising early to enjoy a cup as the sun comes up before the demands of the day set in. "I want to be somewhere that I feel hugged in the morning." Evenings are reserved for The New York Times' crossword, while basketball season dictates the end of the workday, with the pair making a point of settling in together to watch the game. When they're not working, Amy can usually be found curled up on the couch beneath a blanket or retreating to what she describes as her "secret creative cave" to sew and tinker with projects, while Davy remains devoted to his daily afternoon nap.

While the home is filled with meaningful objects, neither Amy nor Davy consider themselves particularly attached to “things”. It's the stories behind them that matter. Take the Persian rug in the living room, which has been part of Davy's life since childhood. After spending nearly two decades in storage following his parents' move, it finally found a home again when the couple opened their first studio. "One of our primary considerations is whether the rug will fit," says Davy.

Elsewhere, two silver chairs by celebrated Japanese architecture studio SANAA serve as a reminder of their wedding. Gifted by Davy's architect brother and engraved with the couple's initials, they represent the kind of object the pair treasures.

Amy's favourite estate-sale finds speak to the peculiar magic of Los Angeles. Over the years, she's collected vintage scripts, rare books and even Alex Trebek's chair from the set of Jeopardy!, sourced directly from the television icon's home. "There's just some really cool lore here," she says of the city, where Hollywood history is hiding in every suburb.

The couple's focus has shifted from styling the home to adapting it. Practical considerations have prompted a temporary move downstairs, where they'll spend the baby's first six months within easy reach of the kitchen, nursery and everything else they might need. Keeping the house cool has also become a priority, with textiles, curtains and other light-controlling solutions taking on new importance. Yet Amy and Davy are approaching these changes with characteristic flexibility. "We'll move stuff out of the way so we can do projects and make stuff and play on the floor." In fact, Amy is so unfazed by the prospect of change that she jokes she could happily live in a permanent fort made of rugs, blankets and pillows.

Having parted with many possessions over the course of previous moves, Amy's requirements for what makes a house a home have narrowed over time. It's family heirlooms – "it could be a little piece of jewellery or a hand-knit doily" – and "weird little objects that don't do anything besides make me smile." Today, her definition of home boils down to four things: "a touch of whimsy, a touch of the ancestors, Davy, and now the baby. It's a feeling Davy shares. "I'm just excited to go to bed every night because I'm really excited to wake up in a home that I love.”