Taking the long way together
A quick note-to-mostly-self about what to expect here
I consume an extraordinary amount of design-related content. Hours and hours of home tours and reels every week, and I’m feeling diminishing returns. Though I’m a decorator growing a design practice, I can’t seem to muster much interest in making content that is didactic, that is “put this here and that there” or “ten things to know about small bedrooms.” There are enough people out there curating vintage shopping lists.
Of course there are tips to be learned, principles of design. These will sneak in. But I think if you have enough curiosity about your home, a lot of this must be learned by just moving things around yourself (too situational for me to prescribe, unless you’re a client) or working collaboratively with a designer. And then understanding your feelings about the arrangement of these things, instead of outsourcing your self-trust.
What I am interested in sharing here falls into two broad categories.
The first is intellectual and historical. For example, lately I’ve been thinking about the ubiquity of stainless steel in contemporary interiors, especially outside of strict functional use and in highly photogenic spaces. I suspect the resurgent use of the material and its seriousness are related to this moment when our ideas about the future are increasingly vague and anxious.
The second is emotional and relational. I’m working towards interviewing–over audio, at least initially–collectors, dealers, craftsmen, people who live with things and consider how they inform their behavior and ability to be in creative control of a way of living that reflects them.
A through line beneath all this is how, in the wake of infinite imagery and constant instruction, does one distill and realize “inspiration” for oneself? I plan to scan photos from my old design and art books and go long dissecting the thinking behind them, what they’re doing formally and historically, one at a time. And what it might mean for you if you’re drawn to a certain pairing of pieces or materials.
My writing is not necessarily intended to teach you what to buy or exactly how to arrange a room, despite my last blog where I do discuss pillows I like (you have to laugh). Here I’ll attempt to think aloud about how meaning forms around the things we live with, how taste can be cultivated rather than acquired, and how the home is a living practice.
Talk soon.
xx,
Sarah (and Maple)
