How to Feel Good in Your Space

I’m happy to admit that I’m a rather aesthetically driven person. I don’t like when things are ugly (who does) or tacky or inconsistent. I have more lenience with low stakes things; Renaissance portraits in museums (sorry, they’re ugly), a dress I’m wearing to an event that I don’t care about, or dark and depressing cinematic settings. All of these examples are fleeting, which means it’s easy enough to overlook their shortcomings. They are also not markers of my identity (unless I really want them to be, in which case, the word ‘insufferable’ can be invoked), so I feel less of a need for them to align with my personal taste.

For someone who has quite a few opinions on design, I don’t have much technical knowledge (amazing combination to have). Well, that’s a lie, I took an intensive semester of art history in college. Not the point. The point is that a huge element of design is our relationship with it. Our intuition, this intangible compass that points us all in our own directions, is at its strongest when looking at a piece of art. There are, of course, empirical qualities to the objects and designs we feel an aesthetic attraction towards, but it feels more…extraordinary…to believe in an energetic force that’s bringing us closer to what is meant for each of us. You can take the girl out of wellness, etc etc.

Interior design has been a concept I’ve appreciated and admired—from afar—for quite some time. It’s filed under my preferred subsection of art: functional. I think pieces that can be used, whether a chair or a garment, are the highest form of artistry, because the expression of its beauty is enhanced, sometimes even validated, by its utility. Aside from being function-forward, interiors are essential considerations in our overall well-being.

We spend so much time in our homes—especially those of us who also consider it a place of work—and their appearances can have such a strong bearing on our emotional state1. In my past apartment, I’d feel creatively dull after spending a day working from the dark room, staring at my drab, grey W*****r couch, wishing there was more fresh energy, more light. In hindsight, I can see how uncomfortable I felt bringing my friends, new and old, into my home because it felt so unrepresentative of me.

This past winter, I was fortunate to perform the best kind of move (one floor upstairs to a newly renovated unit), and with this forced beginning I was determined (mentally, financially) to make the new space finally feel like an expression of myself. I was even MORE fortunate to have a dear friend who is an interior design expert. Without her, I wouldn’t have understood what a deeply intimate process this creating a living space can be—or the technical and artistic prowess required to do it the right way.

Let me introduce you to my dear friend Tenlie Mourning. She’s a talented interior designer based between New York and Paris, whose work has been featured in Architectural Digest and Domino. She believes that your home should be the most aspirational place in your life, one that inspires you to show up to each day as the highest version of yourself. That said, she’s never equated elegant design with exorbitant price points. In fact, she’s one of the thriftiest, creative shoppers I know, and I love that her work is a mix of fancy statement pieces and Facebook Marketplace steals.

Getting to work with Tenlie taught me so much, both about the art of interiors and the way I inhabit my space, so I figured it would only be right to share some of that with you. My perspective, as you know, is one of a design novice, so my advice will lean slightly more esoteric. Thankfully, Tenlie is here to share more of the practical, actionable tips for living in a space that makes you feel, well, good.

TM: We live in a world that relentlessly optimizes for convenience, and our homes often reflect that. But I’d encourage you to resist it. Live like it’s 1994! Touch your food, your belongings, your décor with your hands. Get close to the things you own and the things you consume. Make what you can. There is something deeply grounding about a home where you are genuinely in contact with your life — where very little is on autopilot. When you slow down enough to actually inhabit your space, you stop decorating it and start living in it.

KS: Speaking from experience, it is VERY easy to pick out a bunch of pretty items that look like they belong in your Pinterest board, upload them into a rendering of your living room, and assume that it’ll set you on your way to becoming the new you. But the problem with these idealized designs is that they leave very little room for the life you actually live.

For instance, every single room that I was attracted to on the internet was lacking a television. Unfortunately, and I do think interiors without televisions are significantly more elegant, but I need one of those. I like watching dumb YouTube videos on a big screen and tuning into Sunday nights on HBO. Designing a home that I love means designing a home that I will actually use. So if you know that you’ll need a full office setup, just get one. But if you, like me, are okay without a monitor, then you can eschew the whole faux-office corner and work comfortably from your kitchen table.

TM: Coco Chanel famously said to take one thing off before you leave the house. The same is true of a room. More is rarely more. The most common mistake I see is spaces that try to say everything at once. Find your focal point, whether that’s a piece of art, a beautiful sofa, an architectural detail, and let it be the star. Edit ruthlessly around it. The things you remove will do as much work as the things you keep.

KS: Expanding on Tenlie’s earlier point about getting tactile with our belongings, the other four senses are equally integral to our experience in a space. Sight is obvious—that’s why we’re designing this whole thing so thoughtfully—and I’m also going to leave out taste because my furniture is too white. This leaves us with sound and smell, both of which can completely change our states of being, for better of for worse.

On the smell front: including small touches of scent, or the potential for scent, has been such an underrated source of pleasure. Candles are the front runner in this department, and can often provide more than just a soothing aroma. I personally feel a strange sense of accomplishment when I’m able to burn through an entire candle, and I like to try new ones and check them off as if it’s a book on my Goodreads account2. Room sprays are a fabulous alternative for people with pets or babies or prefer a shorter-lived fragrance. They’re also design object unto themselves.

On the sound front: I definitely considered purchasing a set of Sonos speakers off of eBay, but I’m pretty content with the performance from my waterproof portable speaker that looks like it belongs in a frat house. I do, however, have a vinyl record player that anyone who knows the bare minimum about audio equipment would scoff at (my best friend’s ex-boyfriend once called it, and I quote, “pretty shitty”), but I throw something on there when I need to switch things up, aurally. I listen to music pretty much all day, everyday, so keeping that in mind while creating my space was key. Adjacent tip: record jackets make for easily interchangeable art pieces that offer some personal flair.

TM: In so many apartments (especially modern/renovated ones) people assume bare windows are a design choice. They’re not. Appropriately sized curtains or shades are what take a room from “done” to finished. The difference is visceral once you see it. To get them right: always hang your rod as close to the ceiling as possible, and size your panels wide enough that when open, they frame the window rather than cover it. As a starting point, each panel should be at least as wide as the window itself.

KS: This is not necessarily esoteric as promised, but I prefer practicality anyway. I know myself, and I know that light can completely influence my mental health. I spend an upsetting amount of time in my home/office, so it is mandatory that the lighting situation—ideally natural—is as good as it can get.

Truthfully, the improvements in natural light is the main reason I moved apartments. While I don’t want to complain about the exposed brick in my previous space, I will say that it doesn’t encourage that room-flooding sunshine effect that my favorite AD tours all have in common. At present, my living room has two lighting options: overhead and sconces. Overhead is reserved only for workdays while the sconces (both Tenlie and my favorite up-level for this room) become the primary light source once the sun enters setting territory. I could probably use one more floor lamp by my chair, the apple of my eye, but we’re still working on it (see below).

TM: Your home is a laboratory for self-creation. Unlike most places in your life, the stakes are low. A paint color can be repainted. A chair can be reupholstered. Don't let the fear of getting it wrong keep you in beige. The rooms that feel the most alive are the ones where someone made a decision and committed to it. Take risks here, learn from them, and let those lessons follow you out the door.

KS: I had a really difficult time committing to a fully fleshed out design because I was nervous that everything would repulse me in a matter of a year. The truth is, that may be true, but it’s not worth sacrificing the near term pleasure for a future version of yourself that resents everything you consider cool today. The thing to remember is that not everything has to be permanent. A piece of art hanging on the wall can be swapped out in under 10 minutes. Switching out ceramic accessories can create a whole new mood. Even a couch can be replaced. (I will not be the one physically replacing it, but you know.) There are still little projects I’d like to work on down the line, and I think that’s part of the fun of it. Our inspiration and creative expressions are constantly changing, and that means so should the space that reflects our inner worlds, right?

Thank you for joining us for a special edition of Plant Based with Studiolo. I’m feeling sort of shy now that I just opened up my apartment to the internet. Too late, I guess. I should also plainly state that I think my home and its furniture is a great use of money given the impact it has on my happiness after the sheer amount of hours I spend there. That said, I was not able to take on outside investment so I balanced the big ticket items with majority sale / secondhand / homemade items. I am true to my word after all.

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