Even the garden gate has a wavy top. In front of Cloud House, a low turquoise fence repeats the curves that rise through three storeys of pale-pink arches. The house numbers sit in circles above the entrances. Before either front door opens, the same few shapes have appeared at the scale of a house number, a gate and a building.

Look past the pink and there is a design idea worth following indoors. The curves that give the building its outline turn up again at the scale of a cupboard edge.

The two houses share a pink arched exterior. No. 20A, the completed family home featured here, is on the right. Photograph: Juliet Murphy.

Cloud House is the name for a pair of semi-detached homes designed by Peter Morris Architects on Vicars Road in Gospel Oak. This story follows No. 20A, Morris's own 133m² family home, which the architect records as completed in August 2026. The adjoining No. 20 is a separate property with a different layout; its construction was still described as awaiting completion in the architect's project record when we checked.

The curves have a local reference. Morris took a cue from the arches of St Martin's Church opposite, while the colours draw on a Miami honeymoon. The resulting house belongs to London, even if its palette makes a conspicuous departure from the brickwork around it. It takes something already in the street and exaggerates it until the familiar becomes surprising.

In the kitchen, the large arches become the little scallops along the bottom of the wall cupboards. Green and white doors alternate across the cabinetry; behind the sink, broad pink-and-white stripes continue the pattern in another colour. A blue arch covers the door beside it. There are several strong elements here, but they share enough geometry to feel related.

In No. 20A's ground-floor kitchen, stripes run across cupboards, the wall and the ceiling, while the island provides a broad area of plain pink. Photograph: Juliet Murphy.

What I like is the plain surface between them. The long pink island gives the room a generous stretch of uninterrupted colour. Against it, the cupboard stripes are easier to read, and the yellow handles become small, bright points rather than one more competing pattern. The white walls above the units provide a similar pause.

In the wider photograph, pink-and-white ceiling stripes lead the eye along the island towards the dining and sitting areas. Carrying the pattern above the worktop brings the surrounding space into the composition: the kitchen has a ceiling to look at as well as cupboard fronts.

There is an ordinary purchasing decision underneath the spectacle. In Plykea's published homeowner Q&A, the owners explain that they used IKEA cabinet carcasses and handles, concentrating spending on coloured fronts and pink surfaces. They also say that striped fronts for the island were beyond their budget. No complete kitchen price is given, so this is not evidence of a low-cost fit-out. It is a revealing example of deciding which elements should carry the strongest pattern.

The budget decision has an unexpected visual benefit: a quieter island in a very active room. That is a judgement about the finished composition, not a claim about the owners' original intention.

The arch becomes more than surface decoration elsewhere. In a pink passage, one curved opening frames another, with turquoise window frames visible beyond. A narrow arched recess holds a red jug. The repeated outline gives the view through the house depth, linking a small display space to the much larger openings around it.

A pink arched passage frames the turquoise windows beyond, with a smaller curved recess alongside it. Photograph: Will Pryce.

The outline keeps changing its job: it frames a view, finishes a cupboard and holds a single object. That variety is what makes the repetition worth following.

In a terrace or flat, we might borrow this on a smaller scale. A curved mirror could echo a rounded cabinet edge; a colour could reappear on joinery visible through a doorway. Start with the views that already connect the rooms, then consider where one modest repeat would bring them together.

The architect describes access to No. 20A's roof through a four-metre-long turquoise skylight. Up on the terrace, the pink curves finally form the edge of an outdoor room. Will Pryce's photographs show turquoise loungers, a white bath and broad black-and-white stripes underfoot. The palette continues, but the sky supplies a much bigger area of blue.

The family home's rooftop terrace, with pink curved walls, turquoise loungers and an outdoor bath. Photograph: Will Pryce.

This is a bespoke new house, not a structural recipe to copy onto an existing roof. Its planning, construction and access belong to this particular project. The appeal for most readers is the thought carried through it: the outside and the inside have been designed to recognise each other.

And the bath offers a rather good final view of that thought. A curve first encountered from the pavement now sits around a place to lie back. The most conspicuous feature of the street has become the edge of somebody's room.