It’s All My Mom’s Fault

For several years now I’ve been flirting with the idea of dipping my toe into interior design. I’m not sure it gets more noncommittal than that. What I’m really trying to say is that if you think that my ideas make you want to gag yourself with a hairy spoon, it’s totally cool. I didn’t put my heart and soul into this or anything. I don’t even like design, and actually, I hate interiors. Interiors are the worst.

If I were to (hypothetically) start putting my ideas out there for the world to judge, er, see, I would do that because caring about my surroundings has been in me for a long time. I spent my childhood watching my mom decorate not only our house, but any space that was connected to my parents’ business. I went antique shopping with her, helped her peel wallpaper off walls, and watched as my fearless little mother took on a kitchen redo herself, which  meant buying a tile cutter and learning the back-breaking process of cutting, laying, and grouting tile. She taught me the importance of history in a home, the power of a good DIY project, the satisfaction of getting an amazing deal, and the joy of coming into a house that is warm, comfortable, and a feast for the eyes.

When we redid my room in middle school, the result of our collaboration was a cranberry bedspread with gold moroccan stars (Shout out to Waverly fabric!) on one side and a gold stripe on the reverse. I could change it up depending on my mood, and prepubescent girls have moods. I wanted a room that evoked feelings of faraway lands. I  just recently gave away the gold sunburst mirror that we also bought to go along with that bedspread, because, you know, I figured 20 years is long enough. Mom taught me the importance of the classics.

From my college dorm room (purple walls and leopard everything) to my first house, to my current abode, I have relished the process of giving spaces identity and of letting them say something about the people who call them home. I’ve done a little set decorating/design, worked on a complete production studio renovation,  and spent countless hours scouring Craigslist for that perfect piece of furniture for myself and my friends.  I will happily get on a plane to just about anywhere to bring back things that are native to that place.  I love a collected look. I love things with history and a story. I’m also becoming obsessed with modern design, which is, I’m sure, the result of my move to the west coast.

I currently (as in today – I make no promises about tomorrow) homeschool our 2 boys. My husband works in the entertainment business, and we’ve lived in Los Angeles for 5 years. We finally bought a place here this summer, and I am excited to bring you along as this house and I get to know each other. I also can’t wait to introduce you to to some amazing people I’ve met in my design adventures, and to highlight any other design projects I can get my hands on along the way. I will overshare. I promise. I will probably try to use you to help me make decisions, because making decisions is the bane of my existence. I will overthink just about everything. I will do other things too, but I’m not sure what they are yet…because I don’t have a time machine, OKAY!?! I know, I’m disappointed too.

Thanks for coming along for the ride.

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4 thoughts on “It’s All My Mom’s Fault

  1. And I appreciate that gold starburst mirror. It will hang in our house and remind me of you when I look in it–that is, if we ever actually get WALLS to hang it on. 🙂


  2. Hey, Jessie,

    This is so fun to read. Let me know if you want a challenge that goes to the effect of: making a rental reflect you, while having absolutely no funds for decorating. But, seriously, I’ve been so challenged in this area because so much of the stuff out there doesn’t seem to be “me” and I don’t want to spend money on things that are meh.

    Anyway, I’ll be watching your progress.


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