Maria switched from computer engineering to dollhouses: “I make tens of thousands of tiny objects each year”

All kinds of scales, especially tiny ones, fascinated Maria Malmström from an early age. There was a dollhouse in her childhood home, built by her parents for her and her sister. While her sister played house with the dollhouse and Barbies, Maria styled the settings in ways she liked. Matchboxes became chests of drawers, and bottle caps turned into pie tins.

Maria, what’s the story behind your most famous dollhouse, Väinölä?

I always paid more attention to details than the bigger picture. I was drawing constantly, whenever I had the chance. I was pretty fussy and a total perfectionist. I guess it all paved the way for who I would become later.

When my spouse Esa was studying to become a carpenter, he recognized my interest and surprised me with a dollhouse. I spent a year decorating it, and soon I needed a bigger one. Väinölä was finished in 2002 as Esa’s artisan project and was named after our son Väinö, who was born the year before.

Väinölä has 18 rooms and six floors, so there was plenty to do. I made all the furniture from wood by hand as much as possible. While I was furnishing Väinölä, we were busy with small children. Esa was a stay-at-home dad, and I worked at Nokia.

Whenever I was tinkering with the dollhouse, one of the kids would be right there with me. The boys played gently, but our daughter was more rough-and-tumble, so I always had repairs on my table. My kids still believe I can fix anything: I recently made a new door for my daughter’s ATV.

Maria’s meticulous work can strain her back and neck. “Fortunately, I discovered Pilates, which helps me stay in good shape. I also take long walks. At the studio, audiobooks keep me company.”

At Väinölä, everything is set in the late 1950s and early ’60s. In 2010, it was exhibited at the Finnish National Museum. Now it rests in Maria’s studio and isn’t going anywhere. Packing up thousands of tiny objects would be a huge task.

Recycling and sustainability are just as important in the miniature world, Maria says. The lamp is made from plastic waste, and the flowerpots are Kinder egg figures. The flowers are bag ties and painter’s tape.

How did a dollhouse become your profession?

In 2012, my first book was published. Nukkekoti Väinölän tapaan made Väinölä into a brand. Now I have seven books, and I already have a plan for the eighth. Gradually, these miniatures turned into my profession. I quit my day job, became a freelancer, and started running courses on decorating dollhouses.

As I neared fifty, I decided it was now or never. In fall 2019, I pondered it and did my research, and at the start of the next year, I launched my online store Nukkekoti Väinölä.

What does your work involve?

During the COVID-19 pandemic, I kept busy by creating a dollhouse Advent calendar, which became a yearly tradition. I start planning it in January, and I make 500 calendars. Each one has 24 windows, so I had to prepare and pack 12,000 items or their parts—quite the task! Last year, I changed it to an Advent calendar with four windows. The number of items stayed the same, but there was far less packing.

My online store has over 900 products, around 90 percent of which I create myself. I’m always coming up with something new. For Easter, I made surprise eggs with dollhouse craft items inside, and for Valentine’s Day and Christmas, I put together themed sets. This spring, I added a greenhouse kit that attaches to the side of a dollhouse.

I make tens of thousands of tiny objects each year and design and produce several house models. I can’t do everything by hand anymore, so machines and technology lend a helping hand. I also make commissioned pieces, and not just dollhouse items.

Maria laser-cuts all Nukkekoti Väinölä houses from Finnish birch plywood and ships them as parts. The little cottage, Martta, was inspired by Maria’s childhood neighbor Martta’s small home.

A sauna belongs in every proper dollhouse yard. The building kit even includes a step that looks like a real stone. The doll cooling off in the evening sun is a thrift store find.

Where do you get your ideas for dollhouses?

My online store features traditional Finnish buildings: a rustic cabin, an old cottage, a post-war era home, a Terijoki-style villa, a sauna, and an outhouse. They’re all named after women in my family. When you close the walls, they look like real miniature houses. My dollhouses are also ordered from abroad, and so are my books—even though they haven’t been translated.

Most of my miniatures are 1:12 scale, the most common. The smallest I make is 1:48. Swedish Lundby houses are 1:18 or 1:16, and I craft furniture for those too. Then there are dollhouse dollhouses, which are 1:144! I’ve noticed all dollhouse enthusiasts are a bit perfectionist. A half-millimeter discrepancy can feel like the end of the world.

These tiny Aino slippers, a Finnish classic, were designed for the book Retroa nukkekotiin. Because they’re a registered trademark, Maria first secured permission from the rights holder.

A love of vintage dishes is clear in this dollhouse kitchen.

What’s so inspiring about tiny objects?

I’m drawn to the chance to dive back into a childlike world. The magic of a dollhouse lies in small-scale illusions: a thimble might become a flower pot, and a sardine can might become a child’s bed. I want to lose myself in that enchanting atmosphere over and over again.

I’m an artisan through and through. My grandfather was a tailor, and my mother was a seamstress, so we’ve always been a making-things family. I’ve woven cloth, thrown pottery, worked with bark-tanned leather, and of course sewn, crocheted, and embroidered. Our lifestyle taught my kids that you work for money—they never just ask for it; they ask if I have a job for them. My daughter already has a steady summer job at the online store.

Woodworking might be my favorite, and I love the scent of wood. My asthma kept me from becoming a carpenter, but the tools I have now let me fulfill my furniture-maker dreams in miniature.

Maria is adept at many crafts. She makes pillows, bedspreads, bread-cover cloths, curtains, upholstered pieces, and clothes for dollhouses. This silk ribbon embroidery decorates a small throw pillow.

Maria never tires of decorating miniature scenes. Tiny rooms and objects resemble their real-life counterparts down to the smallest details.