During the worst stretch of 2008’s housing bubble implosion, Justin Riordan found himself unexpectedly out of work. Despite years of success at construction management and a degree in interior architecture, Riordan couldn’t get a job and, like so many casualties of the recession, wondered if he should switch careers. “I had this plan to sell thrift store lamps that I had spray-painted,” he says. “Then, someone asked, if money wasn’t a concern, what would I do that’d also make me happy? Rearrange people’s furniture. That would make me happy every single day. Six weeks later, we had a website and a business license, and after 16 years, we’re still going strong.”
Riordan’s staging company, Spade & Archer, sets up spaces of all shapes and sizes with its own flair: Riordan uses his own furniture, trucks, and lots of antiques, and never rents anything. “I can stage 300 houses and not use the same thing twice,” he says. “Walk into one of our projects and you’ll recognize the style, you’ll recognize the form, but never one single piece.”
The variety also helps Riordan pivot according to the expected market for a given property. “Each generation has their own taste—seniors find [midcentury modern pieces] ugly. Gen X loves MCM. Millennials love MCM. Gen Z thinks it’s all tacky crap—they lean towards art deco or Memphis style.”
Clients unexpectedly hosting potential employers or impromptu dinner parties will beg Riordan to “make their house pretty for the weekend,” he says. “Recently divorced bachelors call up saying, ‘I need a cool house that’s a panty dropper.’ We do that a lot, and I’ve never had a complaint. You want to impress the lady, hire a gay guy to decorate your house.”
Though his work may share some superficial similarities with interior design or set decoration, Riordan underlines the fundamental distinction of the staging craft. While he’ll contractually demand unfettered liberty within his realm upon accepting a project, his sales instincts forestall theatrical sensibilities and he bares a serrated wit only during blog commentary about “carpeted bathrooms, séance kitchens, and a living room straight out of Scooby-Doo,” a dream home turned “perpetual state of amused terror.” You’ll have to see Spade & Archer’s website for more poetic details.
“You’ll see our work in commercials,” he says. “When a comedian’s coming down for a show and they need a couple of chairs and a table and want everything to be beautiful, we’ll do that. We’ve staged homes for actors, Trail Blazers, rock bands. When you need a stager that’s irreverent and just weird enough, we’re that guy!”