The May Files

Sometimes all I need is a step (or a leap) outside of my every day to gain a different perspective. So—just back from a stretch along the Mediterranean, I came home noticing…differently. Less perfection…more patina...all the texture. Along with those rooms, objects, meals, and moments that feel layered over time instead of optimized and tagged within an inch of their life.

The perfect imperfection of it all…give me more patina (there’s no other word for it), texture…craftsmanship. Show me an old door, and I’m already reaching for my phone. I love the detail, the intention, and the art of it all. Moving inside, the focus is layers, with ease. Especially as we’re dipping into summer, I’m leaning toward easy linen, textiles that look better with age, and hand-selected objects with more than a few stories to tell.

Tile. Again. We all know I love a zellige, but wandering through Éze, Monte Carlo, and then Barcelona reignited the ideas of what’s possible.

White machine-made tile to line a wall? No. That everyday-gray-everywhere tile without even the slightest whisper of nuance? No, thank you. How about a weathered handmade tile, in a palette of sunwashed color to bring depth and interest? Or antique tiles, gathered over time and pieced together into something entirely new? Always a yes.

More plants, salad for dinner, a fresh herb garden. From the vineyards in Tuscany to the markets in France, my green thumb has been reignited.

Truth? I need to hit pause. I always have big plans for growing lavish greenery, as well as my own salad garden…then reality sets in.

Here’s what I actually did: Hit up the local farmer’s market my first Saturday home and loaded up on fresh everything. Started researching CSA’s because, let’s be real, I’m not going to be growing lettuce anytime soon. I also dug back into a couple of my favorite sources for interesting salads…The Department of Salad and the Salad Whisperer are a couple currently open tabs. And in an IYKYK moment, this one has been on repeat since I’ve been back.

My feed is overflowing with dupes and knockoffs. It leans into that sea of sameness I’ve sounded off about, and it’s overdone.

Artists make furniture, lighting, textiles, ceramics…and pour heart and lived experience into every detail. To watch a big box store, or mass market vendor, come in and duplicate that work feels hollow and soulless every. single. time.

Plus, I believe that when you know better you do better. And, once you’ve seen–for example–an original Pierre Jeanneret chair, you simply can’t unsee it. Everything else pales in comparison.

Palettes are deepening, colors are richer…even the beloved all-white-everything is getting a makeover. Add in a few botanical notes and interesting textures, and I’m in love. (PSA: It’s the secret sauce to what feels really good in design right now.)

Layers, yes—but through texture rather than “stuff.” I know that’s not a designer-take, but it’s authentic. Those rooms that are well-edited and feel good do so because someone thought about the pieces within the walls. How they played together and, yes, felt….then rearranging, altering (read: reupholstering), putting some away for a season, and inviting new pieces into the mix, to shift the entire mood and energy of a room…and your every day.

Gathering. I want more. I was reminded of how the Italians invite everyone over to share a meal…nothing fancy, but all heart. With my nest empty, I’m finding that I’m missing those impromptu dinners out back, or the unplanned moments when a few more than the regular crew show up, we share stories, laugh, and linger a little longer. I’ve been a little obsessed with this ig account, along with a couple books I read on the long flight (first this …and then this). My plan is simple: just start.

Consider this my Mediterranean reset...and the timing is perfect.

p.s. Barcelona notes coming soon…revisiting pics got me fired up all over again…