Finding Your Own Taste

I always get asked, “Where do you find your inspiration?”

Honest answer? Everywhere.

The truth about taste, it isn’t fixed, it evolves. The more you see, the more your eye develops.

Good taste doesn’t come from spending hours on Pinterest or doom scrolling on Instagram. In fact, that’s one of the quickest ways to lose your own sense of style.

I can usually spot a Pinterest living room the mo I walk in. We’ve reached a point where so many homes look like copies of one another, all chasing the same trend, colour palette, coffee table books and boucle chairs. And I’m just as guilty as the next person. We are only human, and who doesn’t love looking at nice things? I save inspo almost every day. But inspiration and imitation are two very different things.

If I see a room I love, I don’t want to recreate it. Instead, I’ll ask myself what it is I’m actually drawn to here. Is it the warmth? The lighting? The wallpaper? Then, I’ll borrow the idea, not the room.

I think that’s where people sometimes get stuck. Pinterest should be the starting point, not the finished destination. Use it to spark ideas, then build something that feels like you. Because the most interesting homes aren’t the ones that perfectly recreate someone else’s. They’re the ones that couldn’t belong to anyone else.

When I first started my interior journey, I was convinced Chesterfield sofas were the best thing since sliced bread. A few years later, I was obsessed with Scandinavian aesthetic. Bright walls, clean lines, simplicity. Then I got my first job as an intern at a very high-end residential studio in London, and my mindset changed.

The very first project I worked on was a Georgian townhouse in Bath. The husband wanted to fill the house almost entirely with antiques from the same period as the property. His wife, understandably, wanted something a little more balanced. 23-year-old scandnadvain obbsessed me, couldn’t understand why anyone would spend so much money on that many antiques.

I watched it come together. Suddenly, those Georgian commodes, highly decorative mirrors and centuries-old pieces gave the house a depth that brand-new furniture never could. They carried history, craftsmanship and a sense of permanence. Long story short, it completely changed the way I looked at interiors.

Over the next five years, I worked on a variety of projects from elaborate apartments in Moscow to ultra-modern new builds in Surrey and grand Georgian townhouses in London. Every project demanded a completely different way of thinking. My eye was constantly being challenged, and with every new client, my taste shifted a little further. What I thought I loved one year, I’d question the next. Looking back, that period completely reshaped the way I saw design.

There isn’t one definition of good taste. There are homes I’d never choose to live in that I can still appreciate.

Great design isn’t about everyone liking the same thing. It’s about creating something that feels authentic to you.

Travel is a big contender in shaping my style. I’ve always been obsessed with experiencing every nook and cranny of everywhere I go. The architecture, the food, the culture, the pace of life, the little details that make somewhere feel completely different to my normal.

I’m also obsessed with researching where to stay. It’s not about finding the most luxurious option. Sometimes that is a five-star hotel, other times it’s a tiny family-run Airbnb. It completely depends on the destination, who I’m travelling with and the type of trip.

What never changes is what I’m looking for. I want somewhere that feels rooted in its surroundings. A centuries-old masseria in Puglia should feel unmistakably Italian. A pink plantation house belongs in Barbados. A boutique hotel in Athens should celebrate the city around it. If I travel all the way to Cambodia, I don’t want to feel like I could be in Dubai. I want to arrive somewhere and instantly know where I am.

I think that’s what great design does, it tells the story of a place. It embraces local materials, celebrates traditional craftsmanship and reflects the way people actually live there.

I always come home inspired, because I’ve experienced another way of living.

I think we’ve lost the art of looking.

Not scrolling.

LOOKING!

Walking into a restaurant and noticing the lighting before you read the menu. Go into a beautiful hotel for a coffee, even if you’re not staying there. Visiting antique markets with no intention of buying anything. Look up at old buildings instead of down at your phone.

Some of the best ideas don’t come from design websites at all. They come from paying attention to the world around you.

Those early years in design completely reshaped the way I thought about interiors. Every project, every client and every place I visited taught me something different. Today, I know what I’m drawn to, but it’s taken years of questioning, experimenting and changing my mind to get there.

And I hope that never stops. Taste isn’t static; as we travel, grow older and experience more of the world, our priorities change. The homes we’re drawn to change. The way we want to live changes.

So the next time you walk into a beautiful home, a hotel or even your favourite homeware shop, notice where your eyes go first. Don’t think about what Instagram tells you should be beautiful. Think about what stops you in your tracks and what keeps drawing your attention.

Because that’s where your own style begins.

Until next time.

Lydia x