Years in Manhattan real estate and custom clothing in the major cities and distinguished suburbs of America have taken me inside more residences than I can count.
I have always paid close attention to interiors, I can’t help it. I appreciate when someone’s home is done not only well but in a way that reflects who they are. This is what naturally drew me back into interior design after growing up around it, working alongside designers on a full home buildout or furnishing a pied-à-terre in the city myself. I live for the final stages of settling in, such as organizing and shopping for aesthetically pleasing touches like linens and dishware for entertaining. That sort of thing has always been my specialty because I love aligning the details in a home to make it feel just right.
When I share what I do for a living, it naturally strikes up conversation with someone who knows they could use a change but whose time is genuinely spoken for by work or family. Their space functions fine but does not quite feel like them. It is the kind of thing that is easy to dismiss until it is not. When someone hires me, that feeling is where I start.
Before anything else, I listen. Not only for a wishlist of finishes or what they believe needs to be put in place, but for how someone actually lives. What their days look like. Whether they work primarily from home, what their mornings are like, and where they land at the end of a long day. What they have been tolerating without realizing it. The answers shape everything that follows.
Then comes the part I love.
I explore color with intention, searching for palettes that feel stylish without feeling loud, that bring personality into a room while still allowing it to breathe. The most compelling spaces I am drawn to are not built around bold statements. They are built around a quality of calm that makes everything else feel more alive.
I redraw floor plans until the proportions feel right. I work closely with contractors to understand what is genuinely possible, what can be opened up, reimagined, or transformed within the bones of what already exists. And I stay practical throughout, because a beautiful outcome has to be a realistic one for the client. Staying within a budget is not a constraint I work around. It is part of the design problem, and solving it well is something I take seriously.
What I have learned over the years, between wardrobes and homes, is that people do not always know what they are missing until they experience something different. The feeling they are looking for exists just outside their current frame of reference.
The goal is to close that distance.
Not simply to make a home more beautiful, but like a wardrobe, to elevate it to something a client did not know they could feel. A quality of ease that, once experienced, becomes impossible to live without.
My goal is to close that distance.