re:claimed

The Parisian Collection Has Landed: A Note From Cheshire
A strapped pallet of reclaimed oak boards standing on a green workshop floor
11/6/2026
Robert Henry
The first stock of The Parisian Collection has reached us in Cheshire, and I have spent most of the day walking round it with my phone.

It came in strapped and wrapped on pallets, and I will admit that the workshop stopped to look. We have been talking about this oak for months. We have drawn it, costed it and argued over it, and we showed the first of The Parisian Collection at Decorex in October, but there is nothing quite like seeing it stacked on your own floor.

So forgive the photographs. They are straight off my phone, taken between jobs, and I wanted to share them before anything gets tidied up.

Two pallets of reclaimed oak boards in a workshop, with racks of timber behind

Just in, still wrapped

A pallet stacked with pale cut oak above dark weathered boards

Already two colours in one stack

It does not look like much at first

On the pallet this is rough, grey and unpromising. The ends are split and crusted, the faces are scarred, and you could be forgiven for walking straight past it.

That is rather the point. This is reclaimed oak from the farmlands of Europe, naturally aged by time and the environment, and years of sun and rain have done something to the surface that no stain and no workshop could ever fake.

Split and weathered ends of stacked oak boards

The ends tell you everything

A dark open knot in a weathered oak board

Nobody could draw this

Then you open it up

This is the moment I keep going back to. We split each board and one piece of wood becomes two: the weathered outer face, soft and silver grey, and the oak within, pale and warm and full of small knots and marks. One supply, two palettes.

I have been around wood for a long time, and that first cut still makes me stop and look.

Split oak boards laid side by side, pale inner faces beside grey weathered faces
Pale oak boards next to grey weathered boards on a workshop bench

The two faces, side by side

Knotty pale oak boards meeting a grey weathered board at an angle

Every knot stays where it grew

Slow work, on purpose

Every board is graded by hand, then taken through the thicknesser and checked with callipers. Each piece is cut to its angle by hand, with no CNC and no laser, and the sanding is gentle, so the patina stays where it belongs.

The yellow sticker on the thicknesser promises more than 110 decibels, so nobody heard me asking them to hold still for a photograph.

A yellow sticker on a workshop machine warning of noise levels above 110 decibels

Ear defenders on

A gloved hand measuring stacked oak boards with steel callipers

Checked by hand

Oak boards going through a thicknesser with shavings on the bed

Through the thicknesser

An orbital sander resting on reclaimed oak boards

Gentle on the patina

We are not looking for perfect precision here. A small gap, a slight change in height, the marks of the saw left across part of the surface: this is what stops a new floor from looking new.

Oak boards laid on a bench, showing saw marks and small knots

The first panels

The first panels are already here, and we have started testing them. Each one is laid from the centre out on a jig, piece by piece, with the drawing pinned to the board behind it.

The first grey oak pieces laid out on a plywood jig, with a panel drawing pinned to the board behind

The first pieces go down

A panel of grey reclaimed oak laid out on a jig, with its drawing pinned behind it

Laid out, drawing behind it

Turn a piece to its other face, change the finish or move to another layout, and you have a different floor.

A grey weathered oak panel, seen from above with a shadow across it

Grey and weathered

Close-up of a panel in pale oak where six angled pieces meet

Pale and quiet

Close-up of the same layout in warm, deep brown oak

Warm and deep

Close-up of a panel with a darker, open grain

Darker in the grain

Colour, patina, layout: the combinations are close to endless, because every panel is bespoke, and we have barely started testing them.

A Star panel in grey weathered oak on a jig, with its drawing pinned behind it

The Star, with its drawing

A craftsman in a leather apron holding oak pieces up to the light in the workshop

Up to the light

Why we are so excited

The name comes from the great parquet floors of Paris, and that is the tradition this oak was made for: chevron, herringbone and panels such as Star and Chateau, laid out and made here in Cheshire, from wood that has already spent years outdoors. We had a warm reception at Decorex, and we came home with the Embracing Circularity Award, but seeing the first stock in the workshop is the part that makes it real.

A gloved finger tracing a mark in a pale oak board

Looking for the marks worth keeping

A gloved hand sanding reclaimed oak boards

Light hands only

There is plenty more to come, and I will keep sharing it as it comes off the bench. If you would like to see where all of this is heading, The Parisian Collection is the place to start.

Robert Henry, Founder. Cheshire, November 2026.

A band of rough, weathered oak board ends