You are so weird.

I Love It.

A genuine expression of the soul is always a little weird. You are wholly unique. That's the whole point.

Interior design is not something we all have a natural proclivity for. You should be doing what you're best at, not agonizing over whether the sofa should face the fireplace or the television. Hiring a designer is like hiring an accountant. Can you do your own business taxes? Sure. Will it make you bleed out of your eyes? That's the question.

Most people never get the chance to work with a designer. Often an attempt to level up a space becomes a Pinterest-fueled, greige-safe attempt at a grown-up's parlor — the end result a room that feels boring, functions not at all, and could belong to any two star hotel.

We won't be doing that.

When I work with a client, I usually start with one brief: pretend you're in outer space. No one else will ever set foot in this room. No judgement, no guests, no resale value to consider. Just you, your life, and what you actually want.

Then we design for that — your functional life first, your aesthetic second, your aspirations third. Entertaining comes way down the list.

We are not designing for a magazine shoot. We are designing for life-enjoyment.

Your favorite color belongs here. Your collections — comic books, vintage typewriters, Legos, I genuinely do not care — have pride of place. Your grandmother's slipper chair lives here. Everything you love goes together, because the common thread is that it is all your taste. That is enough. That is everything.

Good design is function first, aesthetic composition second. Quality pieces of furniture, finished beautifully, arranged to be useful and harmonious. Nothing in the room that doesn’t serve you. Nothing you love left out of it.

Our first meetings are always half design-talk, half therapy. Once we get past the tentative is-it-okay-to-have-this conversations — spoiler: it is — we can talk about the places you've loved. The lamp on the table in the den when you were a kid. The living room from that movie you desperately want to drink a glass of wine in. That chair you saw at the Louvre when you were fifteen. Your aesthetic is equal parts nostalgia, aspiration, and evolution.

When it's singing, your room will energize you, embrace what you love, and remove the obstacles from the workings of your life. It will comfort, inspire, and help you keep track of your keys.

In all of this, there is an interesting element of self-acceptance. To answer honestly the questions of how you live, what you love, and what you want to foster in your life reveals in a fascinating way. The person shapes the room — but the room, in turn, flavors the person.

A ruthlessly curated space sets the scene for your story. And darling, you're the protagonist.

About Jamie Grandy

Okay, okay. I’m working on it! Go look at the pictures of the chairs.