I didn’t start my career as an interior designer. My path to design began with a degree in Ecological and Engineering Design, where I studied alongside architects and developed a lasting love for architecture, interiors, and the process of drawing and making things work.

My education also taught me to think about design beyond what looks beautiful. We studied ways to make buildings more energy- and resource-efficient, reduce waste, and minimize pollution. That way of thinking has stayed with me. I’m drawn to things that are thoughtfully made, useful, enduring, and worth keeping.

Over the years, that curiosity has taken me through museums and galleries across Europe and the United States, and into a lifelong appreciation of craftsmanship, materials, art, and objects with a history.

Vintage has always felt natural to me. I grew up around my grandparents’ 1960s tables, chairs and dishes — things that could survive decades of use and still be beautiful and practical. Later, I found that same feeling in vintage galleries and shows like the San Francisco Fall Show. I love the character that comes from mixing something old with something new.

Then, The Finer Things by Christian Lemieux became a turning point! It opened up a much wider view in the world of craftsmanship, materials, and details that I could almost feel through the pages. It reinforced something I already sensed: the things we live with have a history, a quality, and a physical presence that matters.

When I first started my design business, I imagined myself surrounded by incredibly beautiful furniture, lamps, patterns, and fabrics. And I still love all of those things. I even used to sew my own clothes through my middle and high school years, so I have a longstanding appreciation for good fabric and how things are constructed.

But the more homes I worked on, the more I realized where I really find my joy.

I love the bones.

Give me an outdated kitchen. A tired bathroom. A space that hasn't quite worked for years. I love figuring out what needs to change, stripping away what isn't working, and creating a clean, thoughtful foundation for what comes next.

Kitchens and bathrooms have become some of my favorite spaces to design because they have such an enormous impact on everyday life. We use them constantly. I especially love thinking through how a space functions, not just how it photographs. I know this from my own kitchen: I love cooking for my family, making traditional dishes as well as trying new ones, and hosting dinners. I know exactly how much the organization of a kitchen can affect those precious movements when several dishes are being prepared at once.

And then comes the part I perhaps love most: giving the home back to its owner.

I don't believe a beautiful home should look like a showroom. It should look like you and function around your kids and dogs.

Your art. Your travel finds. Your family pieces. Your collections and little objects that might make no sense to anyone else but mean everything to you.

My job is not to replace your personality with mine. It's to help you see your home with fresh eyes, make thoughtful decisions, and create the kind of foundation that allows your life and the things you love to belong there and evolve.

I've been on the other side of that feeling too: stuck, unsure, needing someone to step outside my familiar point of view and offer a calm, professional perspective. That's one of the reasons I enjoy working with clients who feel overwhelmed or don't quite know where to begin.

Sometimes you don't need more choices.

You just need someone you trust to help you see what's possible.

That's what I want to be for my clients: someone you can trust with your home.

Not to make it look like mine.

To help make it unmistakably yours.