There’s a living room I worked on recently that I keep thinking about.
Not because it was dramatic. Not because we knocked down walls or started from scratch. We didn’t do any of that.
We worked with what was there.
A piano that was staying put. A sofa that had good bones. A family who had lived fully and messily and lovingly in that space for years. And a room that had carried every bit of that life.
But my client knew something had to change. She could feel it every time she walked in. The room was heavy and worn, and it no longer felt like the person she is today.
She knew she wanted light, and more color (just enough, not too much), and a reading nook just for quiet moments. She just didn’t know how to get there from where she was.
We didn’t renovate. We didn’t gut the room or replace everything or spend a fortune.
We made considered, specific decisions about what needed to go, what needed to stay, and what needed to be introduced.
The heavy, brown swivel chairs were worn way past their season of comfort. In their place, soft fabric chairs that are light without being fragile. We had the sofa cushions recovered in a creamy, textural fabric that gives the sofa 20 more years of service.
The rug brings in the color she was after. Tables and the fireplace reflect the rusty red details, while the neutral furniture coordinates with the background. Fresh paint warms up the whole room.
I angled the conversation circle to increase definition and flow, which left space for the reading chair in the far corner; distinctly quiet, clearly one-at-a-time.
And then something happened that I wasn’t expecting.
Photograph by Patrick Rodgers
Photograph by Patrick Rodgers
Photograph by Patrick Rodgers
When I posted photos of the finished room, she commented.
Not “it looks beautiful.” Not “great job.” Not even “I’m so happy with how it turned out.”
She said: “I know this room and I love it.”
I’ve been thinking about those seven words because they contain the essence of what good design actually does. It doesn’t impose, or perform, or make the room wildly inappropriate or copy someone else’s vision.
Good design takes the room you’ve been living in and finds you in it again.
When my client commented “I know this room”, she wasn’t talking about the chairs or the rug or the paint color per se. She was talking about the way it makes her feel now.
She was talking about herself.
People say that interior design is too expensive. It’s too complicated. Too indulgent. That their taste isn’t refined enough or their budget isn’t big enough or their home isn’t the kind of home that deserves that attention.
I understand those feelings. But what I know from the other side is that the woman who walks into that room now and feels happy?
She didn’t have an unlimited budget. She didn’t start from scratch. She didn’t renovate a single thing.
She simply decided: “this room deserves attention. And so do I.”
That decision changed everything.
** If your home has been waiting for that kind of attention, I’d love to talk.
Start here: Let’s Talk free 30-minute call.
Photograph by Patrick Rodgers
About Nan
I’m a holistic interior designer who’s devoted to functional & livable design. I’ve been working as a professional designer since 1995 and one thing I love about interior design is how it can evoke a mood and create whatever feeling you want in your space. In that way, it’s kind of magical.
