It was a time when natural materials were on their way out and plastics were on their way in. Sleek artificiality was chic and one of the pioneers in this manufactured trend was Wilsonart International.

Wilsonart was, and still is, a leader in the production of that wonderfully low-maintenance material called laminate, a paper-resin concoction found on practically every home countertop today. Ralph Wilson, who had previously owned a company in California called Lamin-Art, was looking to retire in Dallas when he was persuaded to move further south to Temple. There, he established the Ralph Wilson Plastics Company in 1956 and set about developing an even greater man-made material than man had ever made.

He took great pride in his thin, durable product, and in doing so, used his own home as a testing facility for each new style and grade of laminate that came out of R&D. Wilson laminated every surface he could imagine — cabinets, walls, doors, even shower stalls — to ensure the material's suitability for a variety of purposes before passing it on to the public.

The result is a home full of color, but very little traction. Truly, one could get down to some very serious sock skating in here.

Even Wilson's car port served as an alfresco laboratory. Lined with a gradation of laminates varying in quality, the developer's driveway facilitated the testing of a line of materials for outdoor use, perhaps making it possible one day to clean the outside of one's house with nothing more than a Swiffer.

The house's interiors, which some today have referred to as "very Brady Bunch," became a model for laminate design, as illustrated in many of Wilsonart's early advertisements. Wilson took such pride in his digs that he used his own home in the company's ads, demonstrating that his surface materials were perfect for the housewife who loved to cook up a nice pot roast in her best high heels.

Some of the design was lost in the 1960s when Sunny, Ralph's wife, decided to remodel, covering over the living room's hip geometric patterns with blue wallpaper. Additionally, when Sunny decided to sell the house in the '90s, Wilsonart removed the kitchen cabinetry and shipped it to their Dallas division for preservation. Sunny had been told by her realtor that the place would never sell with the kitchen as is.

Fortunately, Wilsonart decided that keeping just one room wasn't enough and, in the end, bought the entire house. They shipped the kitchen back where it came from and began a restoration effort that earned the house a spot on the National Register of Historic Places.

The house, located a short distance from Wilsonart's factory, is open for tours by appointment. But sadly, it is not available to rent should you wish to host a personal martini soirée.