I’ve been thinking lately about nostalgic design and what it means to carry this abstract ‘feeling’ into the spaces we call home. For me personally, I remember a particular quality of light from my grandmother’s house. The richness of the millwork, the texture of built-in bookshelves packed with books, solid eight-foot interior doors, walls painted the softest white. She had brought furniture with her from Germany — handmade pieces from the 1920s and ‘30s, just before Midcentury Modern took hold — and those rooms had a Northern European gravity that felt completely at ease with itself. Lived in. Settled.
When I think about nostalgic design — I don’t necessarily mean style, but memory made material.
CDS doesn’t design toward a single style, and I’m not interested in a signature look. What I am interested in is honoring the architecture in front of me and the personal story behind every client. But I do come to every project with a particular sensibility — one shaped by growing up in Wisconsin, where Belgian, Dutch, and German influences are embedded in the built landscape going back to the early 1800s. That’s not a trend I’m borrowing from. It’s something I grew up inside.
Nostalgia, I’ve come to think, is its own design language.
What follows is what’s been catching my eye lately — though honestly, it’s been catching my eye my whole life.
If you want to see more of what I’m pinning, check out our Pinterest page - I’m always adding new inspiration!
Until next time,
Katie
Ps. Thanks for being here! If you're not yet subscribed, I'd love to have you — days in design is where I share the small things: life, design, and what it actually looks like to run an interior design studio as a mom and founder of 8+ years! If you're already here, thank you. It would mean a lot if you passed this along to someone who might love it too.
Comments
Nothing yet. Say the first thing.
Sign in to join the conversation.