Safferstone

Today I want to dive into the details on sourcing upholstery within our projects. I’m very happy to mix high and low in a room. I’ll sometimes buy a cocktail table from a retail store. I’ll buy lamps. I’ll find something vintage, something weird, something that just works and doesn’t need to have a whole story behind it.

Upholstery is different for me.

When I’m specifying a sofa for a client, I tend to think of it as one of the anchor pieces in the room. You’re going to use it every day. It has to be comfortable. It has to hold up. It has to work with the scale of the room and the way your family actually lives. And because a sofa is already a significant purchase, I want to make sure we are putting that money into something worth paying for.

100% of the time, I specify custom upholstery for our clients instead of shopping retail.

I know the word custom can make people nervous. It sounds like code for “this is about to get pricey.” But one of the things I really want my clients to understand is that custom upholstery is not always more expensive than the higher end of big box retail. In some cases, it is very much in the same world price-wise, and you are getting a completely different level of construction, choice, craftsmanship, and longevity.

To me, that makes it a much better place to put the investment.

 

Custom upholstery is made in the USA 

This is a part of the process that I especially love.

Most of the upholstery manufacturers I work with are in the United States, and many of them are based in North Carolina. I’m a North Carolina native; obviously I have a personal connection to that, but it goes well beyond hometown pride.

Furniture manufacturing is a real industry there. There are towns and communities that have grown up around these companies, and there are incredibly skilled craftspeople who spend their careers learning how to build furniture well. These are people with homes and families, earning a living wage, constructing frames, tying springs, cutting and sewing fabric, matching patterns, upholstering by hand. It is work that takes skill, learned over years and passed along.

I think that’s special, and it is one of those things clients may never really think about because, when you’re looking at a finished sofa, you’re mostly thinking: Do I like this? Is it comfortable? Does the fabric work?

I am thinking about all of that too, obviously. But I am also thinking about who made it, how they made it, what is underneath the fabric, and whether I believe that piece is going to hold up in your house.

The inside matters as much as the outside

Two sofas can look pretty similar in a photograph and be constructed very differently.

With the manufacturers I use, I’m looking for things like kiln-dried hardwood frames and eight-way hand-tied springs. Those are not especially glamorous phrases, but they are part of what makes a good sofa durable and comfortable.

Eight-way hand-tied springs are exactly what they sound like: the springs inside the sofa are tied together by hand in multiple directions. It is a traditional upholstery technique that creates a comfortable sit, and it takes time and skill.

Years ago, I happened into an Arhaus store in the King Of Prussia mall. I asked a salesperson about a few of their sofa frames. At one point she mentioned that one particular sofa had eight-way hand-tied springs. I asked, “Wait, don’t they all?”

No. That was the only one.

I was stunned because that is something I expect from the manufacturers I use.

That experience stuck with me because it was such a good example of the difference between buying something because it looks expensive and buying something because it is actually made in a way that justifies the investment.

 

Custom does not mean “make everything weird”

The other thing I love about custom upholstery is that it gives us choices where the choices actually matter.

We can often adjust the width of a sofa (usually to the inch) so it fits the room properly. We can choose the cushion fill and number of seats based on how you like to sit. We can select from a huge range of fabrics and finishes. Depending on the manufacturer, we may have options around the arm, the back, the cushion style, the leg, the skirt, all of those little details that change the personality of the piece.

But I am not interested in customizing something just because we can.

If a sofa is 36 inches deep and you really want something 40 inches deep, I may decide we should look at another frame that was designed with those proportions rather than stretching the first one into something it was never supposed to be.

That is part of the value too. It is not just access to more options, rather, knowing which options are useful.

Comfort is much more personal than people think

One of the things we can often choose with custom upholstery is the cushion fill, and this matters because there is no universally comfortable sofa.

Some people want to sit upright. Some people want to curl their legs underneath them. Some people want to sink in so far they may never be heard from again.

I find that some of my older clients prefer a firmer cushion because it is easier to get in and out of, while families may want something deeper and softer where everybody can pile in. With custom upholstery, we can actually specify how those cushions are built — the density of the foam core, the amount of fiber or batting around it, whether we add feathers or down, even spring construction in certain cushions. Changing that ratio changes the whole sit: more supportive, more sink-in, more tailored, more relaxed. So we are not just picking “firm” or “soft” from a menu. We can personalize the cushion construction around a client’s body and the way they actually want to use the sofa.

One of the furniture showrooms I work with has what they jokingly call the Frankenstein sofa on their floor. Different seats have different depths and different fills so you can sit on them and compare.Technically, if he wanted a firmer cushion and she wanted a softer one, we could make that happen.(I have never actually had a client ask me to do that, but I enjoy knowing we could.)

That is really what custom means to me. We are not accepting somebody else’s idea of what the sofa should be. We can make thoughtful decisions around how you are actually going to use it.

 

And then there’s the fabric

This is where things get really fun.

The upholstery manufacturers I work with have enormous fabric libraries, including great performance options. If we are doing a large sectional, I may stay within the manufacturer’s own graded fabrics because a sectional can take a tremendous amount of yardage. This is one way to keep the price reasonable, but we’re not limited to those options.

If I find some crazy botanical,a beautiful stripe, or an incredible texture from another textile brand and it is exactly what the room needs, we can send that fabric to the manufacturer and have them upholster the piece in it.

This is called COM – Customer’s Own Material.

We send the manufacturer the information about the fabric, they calculate exactly how much yardage we need based on things like width and pattern repeat, and then we get the fabric to them so they can make the piece.

I love this because now we are really designing something for the room instead of selecting something that happens to come in six colors.

And this is another place where you see the craftsmanship. With a patterned fabric, a good upholsterer is going to match that pattern across the cushion, the deck, the apron, the skirt, wherever it needs to line up, so it flows across the piece.

It is the same basic idea as meticulously lining up a pattern on holiday wrapping paper,except now you are wrapping a three-dimensional piece of furniture in itThat takes skill.

It is also one of those details most people will never consciously point out. You are probably not going to walk into someone’s living room and say, “Wow, excellent pattern matching on that apron.”

You are just going to think the sofa is upholstered meticulously.

The numbers can be surprisingly similar

All of this sounds expensive.

Sometimes it is. You can spend an enormous amount of money on custom furniture if that is what the project calls for.

But that is not the whole story.

You can also get a very well-made custom sofa in the same general investment range as some of the higher-end sofas people are already shopping for at national retailers. Sectionals get more expensive because they are larger and you are effectively buying multiple upholstered pieces, but again, clients can spend very serious money at retail for these, too.

That is the comparison I really want people to make: Not ‘custom versus cheap’ sofa, but ‘Custom versus the sofa you were already considering spending real money on.’

If we are already talking about a substantial investment, I would rather put that money into a kiln-dried hardwood frame, eight-way hand-tied springs, a fill chosen for the way you sit, dimensions that actually work in the room, a fabric we love, and skilled American craftsmanship. Those are simply not things you are going to find together in most big-box upholstery, even at the higher end of the price range.

To me, that is a much more interesting use of the budget.

 

I want the furniture to have a life

I had a sofa in my own house for something like seventeen years.

It was made by a boutique NC upholstery manufacturer, and eventually I grew out of it. The fabric was past its prime. My taste for the back style and leg had changed. It had lived a very full life, and I was ready to let it go.

My husband was horrified because he loved that sofa. And structurally, there was really nothing wrong with it. It was still a good piece of furniture. (It still has life in it, just, not in my house anymore.)

That is the kind of lifespan I want to be thinking about when I’m buying upholstery for a client. It does not mean the fabric is going to look perfect forever. It won’t. Cushions soften. Fabric wears. Kids and pets take a toll.

But if the bones are good, you have options.

You can reupholster a great chair instead of throwing it away. You can put a completely different fabric on a sofa you still love. You can keep something because the shape is beautiful and the piece is worth saving.

I like that. It feels better from a investment standpoint, and it feels better from a sustainability standpoint, too.

 

So when I steer you away from the obvious retail option…

I am not trying to make the process more complicated. And I am definitely not trying to make it more expensive for the sake of saying something is custom. I am doing it because I know what is available beyond the big box showroom, and I know what your money can buy there.

I know manufacturers making beautiful furniture in North Carolina. I know which construction details I want to see. I know when it is worth changing the dimensions and when it is better to find another frame. I know how different cushion fills are going to feel. I know where to find fabric beyond the manufacturer’s standard library. And I know that if we are already investing in an important piece of furniture, we can often make that investment work much harder for you.

That is why I make the choices I do.

I want the sofa to be beautiful, obviously. But I also want it to be well made, comfortable, personal to your home, and worth what you paid for it. (And if we can do all of that while supporting skilled American furniture makers who are still doing this work incredibly well,  sustainably, and beautifully – even better.)

If you are already going to spend $8,000, $12,000, $15,000 — whatever that investment is — we look at what you can actually get for it.

Maybe that’s a sofa made in North Carolina by people who really know how to make upholstery. Maybe we change the width so it fits the room perfectly. Maybe we choose the cushion fill based on how you actually sit. Maybe we find a fabric that makes the entire room. Maybe it means you end up with something unique nobody else has.

That is the opportunity I don’t want clients to miss because they assumed the only next step after a starter sofa was walking into a big box retailer, no matter how established the brand. There is a whole other world of furniture out there. Most people just do not have a reason to know about it until somebody shows it to them.

That’s my job, and it is one of my favorite parts.

 

If custom upholstery has you curious, let’s talk. Whether you’re furnishing one room or rethinking the whole house, I’d love to help you find pieces that are beautifully made, deeply comfortable, and completely suited to the way you live.

 

The most practical choice is not always the safest-looking one.

I hear some version of this all the time. A client loves the green kitchen, the wallpaper, the darker room, the warmer wood tone, or the one detail that makes the space feel more like them.

And then the hesitation shows up: “I want to, but I shouldn’t. It’s probably not practical.”

Understandably, I get why people think this way. A home is a major investment and it has to function, hold up to the test of time, and make sense for everyday life. I’m not saying we should ignore the practical stuff, but I am saying we should be honest about what is actually practical — and what is really just fear dressed up as practicality.

Because most times that little “probably not practical” voice talks people out of the thing they actually love before the idea has even had a chance to be considered properly.

The more useful question is not, “Is this the safest choice?” It is, “Is this the right choice for this home, this family, and the way they actually live?”

This is where decisions can get tangled. You love the green, but you start backing away from it. You choose the version that feels easiest to defend. And suddenly, the house is being designed around an imaginary future owner instead of the people making dinner, hosting holidays, drinking coffee, and living there now. That is usually the moment to step back and ask: Who is this house is really for?

 

Safe Is Not Always Timeless

A quiet, soft, restrained, beige-toned room can be lovely. But neutral is not automatically timeless. To me, a room becomes timeless because the choices are thoughtful, the scale works, and the materials make sense. The palette belongs to the house and the details support the way the room is actually used. Not because every interesting decision got watered down until no one could object to it.

This is the part I find myself saying in different ways with clients: a safe choice is not always a better choice. I understand that it’s the easiest to do, especially when design decisions can feel surprisingly vulnerable: you’re making something visible that says something about your taste and how you live. But if every room is designed around the safest possible version of itself, the home can start to feel less personal than it should.

Are you choosing this because it’s  truly timeless — or because it feels easier to defend?

 

Personal Is Not the Same as Impractical

A green kitchen isn’t automatically too specific and a  wallpapered powder room is not automatically impractical. The question I come back to is not whether everyone would choose the exact same thing, but whether the choice makes sense here: for this house, for the way the client lives, for the overall design, and for the level of quality and intention behind it.

That is very different from being impulsive.

This is where discernment matters. I am not suggesting we make every wild choice that crosses our minds. I am talking about choices that are personal, beautifully executed, and made with enough intention that they can hold over time.

Personal does not have to mean chaotic. A choice can feel very personal and still make sense for the house. That is usually the balance I am looking for: something that reflects the people who live there without feeling disconnected from the architecture, the materials, or the rooms around it.

 

 

Future Buyers Are Not Using Your Kitchen Every Day

This is the real point, at least for me. The future buyer is not using this kitchen every day. They are not making dinner here tonight, drinking coffee in this room, hosting your holidays, watching your kids run through the family room, or standing at the sink while life happens around them. It’s likely that they may change the kitchen, bathroom, or paint colors anyway. You might as well make choices that support the way your family lives and reflect the style you actually love now.

So yes, let’s make smart choices. Let’s think about longevity and avoid decisions that feel cheap, chaotic, or disconnected from the house. But let’s not design away the life that is actually happening here in the name of someone else’s.

I think about this the same way I think about appliances. You can choose the thing that looks impressive in a showroom, or you can choose the thing you will actually be glad you chose on an ordinary weeknight. Your home works the same way. You can design for a vague future person who may or may not ever care about your cabinet color, or you can design for the life you are actually living — with enough clarity that the choice still feels smart later.

 

The Highland Kitchen

This theme came up in a very real way on our Highland project.

From the beginning, the client and I loved the idea of a green kitchen. I love green, so I was immediately on board. But there was a very normal hesitation around it: should we go with off-white?

And I understood the question. Off-white would have been easy to picture, easy to explain, and easy to defend. So for a while, that was the direction we were moving in: a more classic off-white kitchen, maybe with a deep green on the island.

It would have been pretty, but it also would have been less them. Then the adjacent family room changed the whole conversation.

We had selected a dark green velvet for two sofas in that room, and once they arrived, the clients saw the color working in real life — not on a paint chip or in a saved image, but in their actual home, with their light, their furniture, and the feeling they wanted the space to have.

The green grounded everything. It felt rich and warm, but not loud. It made the room feel more personal and more connected to the way they wanted to live there. That was the moment the choice started to feel less risky and more right.

Once they saw the color working in the family room, they had the confidence to carry green into the kitchen — not just on the island, as an accent. We used Sherwin-Williams Pewter Green on the full perimeter of cabinetry, paired it with a rich walnut island, Mont Blanc quartzite, and warm brass hardware.

And honestly, it was the right call.

The green made the kitchen feel more connected to the family room and made it feel more personal. It just made sense with the house. This is a historic home with beautiful traditional bones, and the kitchen needed to feel warm, layered, and a little European, not like a new white kitchen dropped into the back of the house.

That is the difference. It was the choice that made the room feel much more like them.

 

 

A Better Way to Think About the Decision

Before you talk yourself out of the thing you love, it helps to ask:

1. Does this choice make sense for the architecture of the home?
2. Does it support how we actually live?
3. Is it being done with quality and intention?
4. Are we avoiding it because it’s wrong — or because it feels vulnerable?
5. Will Future You be glad you chose it on an ordinary Tuesday?

If the answers are yes, that is not reckless. That is a considered design decision.

 

The Takeaway

The goal is not to ignore what is practical. The goal is to be honest about what “practical” is actually protecting.

Sometimes it is protecting function, budget, longevity, or ease. Great. Those things matter. But sometimes it is protecting you from having to make a visible choice. And that is where a home can start to lose the details that make it feel personal.

A home does not become more timeless by losing all of the details that make it feel like yours.

If you are stuck between what you love and what feels safe, that is exactly the kind of decision I help clients think through. A home should be designed for the life inside it.

 

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This piece answers the question behind the question: “Why does starting feel so overwhelming — and what actually happens first?” 

Get to know the order of operations that keeps you from making expensive decisions too soon.

A lot of people come to me with some version of the same question, which is basically: where do we even start? And usually by the time they are asking it, they already have ideas. They have saved things, they have thought about it, and they have a great idea of what they like. They just don’t really know what is supposed to happen first.

I always feel like I need to back up for a second, because what they’re really asking is “why does this feel harder than I thought?

People often assume they’re overwhelmed because they don’t have a clear enough vision, but a lot of the time that’s not really it. More often, it’s that they don’t have an order of operations yet.

And I might be over-explaining that a little, but I see it so consistently that it feels worth saying twice.

 

What throws people off at the beginning

A lot of people think design starts with picking things. They think it starts with the sofa, the rug, the paint color, the light fixture, or whatever pretty thing catches their attention first.

And I get why. Shopping is the tangible part. It is the part you can point to. It feels like progress.

But what so often happens is that one early decision starts dictating everything else before the room has really been understood. Someone buys the sofa because it feels like a good place to start, and then suddenly everything else is trying to work around that one choice. The rug cannot be the right scale, the lighting does not make sense, the layout is still awkward, and the room is being built around one decision that happened too soon.

That is a lot of what I speak about in Design Is a Puzzle. And It’s a Feeling. The room usually is not asking for more things right away. It is asking for a clearer plan.

I see this with clients all the time — they have good instincts, they are drawn to the right things, but the order is not there yet, and that’s where everything starts to feel off.

What I’m paying attention to first

For me, the beginning is much less about what we are buying and much more about what we are understanding.

I’m thinking about how you live in the space, what feels easy already, what is not functioning the way it should, and how you want the home to feel when all of this is done. I am also paying attention to the things that matter emotionally, because that’s important too. Not just what looks nice on paper, but what feels personal, what feels worth keeping, and what actually supports your life. Because the goal is never just a room that looks finished. It is a home that feels like you when you are living in it.

That’s why the beginning of a project matters so much more than people realize. Before we are choosing a bunch of details, we are really building a foundation. We are figuring out what the home needs to do better, what matters most, and what direction actually makes sense.

Sometimes that’s actually a relief for people, because they realize they aren’t behind — they just skipped a step that no one really explains. Or maybe they didn’t even skip it, they just didn’t know it was a step in the first place.

That is also what becomes the basis for a whole-room plan. Every decision can start to support the room as a whole instead of existing as its own little island.

And honestly, if you have read Live Beautifully With What You Already Have, this is the part that comes before the layering. It’s the part where we understand what stays, what shifts, and what the room is actually asking for before we start adding more.

And once that foundation is there, that’s when the concept starts to become useful.

 

 

Why we don’t start with finished decisions

I think this is another part that can feel a little counterintuitive.

People sometimes want to jump straight to finished decisions because they are eager to move, or because they want to feel like something is happening, or because making one decision feels easier than sitting in the uncertainty of the larger process.

But for me, concept comes before details because concept is what gives us direction. It helps us say, okay, this is the feeling, this is the tone, this is the overall approach, this is what we are trying to create.

Once that is clear, the detailed decisions start to feel much more grounded.

Otherwise, you’re just solving the room one item at a time and hoping it all comes together in the end.

Which, to be fair, sometimes it does, but it usually takes longer and costs more to get there.

When there is a concept, and when there is sequence, the process gets calmer. Not because there are fewer decisions in total, but because you are not making all of them at once, and you are not making them without that shared understanding.

 

What the right order changes

Sequence protects the project and keeps everything running smoothly.

What’s protected:

• Your budget (you’re less likely to buy something twice to force the whole room to work around one early decision.
• The cohesion of your design (because we are looking at the whole picture.)
• Your energy (you’re not trying to solve everything at once, you can breathe and trust in the process)
• Your confidence (every step embraced makes the next one clearer)

This is what it’s about for me, doing the work to keep the project from becoming a series of expensive guesses.

 

What’s happening before anything looks finished

This phase can look a little quiet from the outside.There are no deliveries yet. There is nothing really dramatic to point to. But there is actually a lot happening.

I’m listening really carefully and noticing patterns. I’m paying attention to what you keep coming back to, what feels important to you, where the friction is, and what the space seems to be asking for. I’m pulling all of that together and translating it into a direction that can actually be designed.

That work is not the flashy part, but it is a huge part of why the rest of the project can move in a way that feels more grounded and much easier to follow. It’s also a big part of why the finished design feels cohesive instead of pieced together. That’s usually the difference people can feel, even if they cannot immediately explain it: the room feels settled, personal, and much easier to live in.

If you’re feeling stuck at the start

So if you are at the beginning and feeling like you should have this all figured out by now, you don’t.

You don’t need the perfect inspiration board or the perfect sofa to reach out.What is usually more helpful is just being able to say: this is how I want the room to feel, and this is what is not working right now — that’s the best starting point.

And if you want help turning that into a plan, and moving through it in a way that feels thoughtful and guided and a little less overwhelming,  reach out to us when you’re ready. A successful project starts with clarity, not shopping — and the order of decisions is what makes everything else work.

Check out our Midland project if you want to see what all the layers look like coming together.

 

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Thoughtful notes on home, process, projects, and the details that make a space feel personal, polished, and lived in — delivered monthly(-ish) to your inbox.

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Thinking about a project of your own?

If you are beginning to imagine what your home could become, I would love to hear what you are dreaming about, what is not working yet, and how you want the finished space to feel.

Reach out to start the conversation.

 

I’m thrilled to share that Safferstone Interiors is featured in the May issue of Philadelphia Magazine. The feature focuses on dark kitchens, and our Deerfield Lane project was included as one example of how a darker palette can feel warm, layered, and livable.

I’m honored to be included alongside two very accomplished local firms. (And I’m also still trying to get my own hands on a copy, which feels slightly ridiculous and very much like real life. My mother-in-law found one before I did, so at least someone in the family was on magazine duty.)

More than anything, I’m proud to see our Deerfield Lane kitchen recognized because it reflects the kind of work I care about most: thoughtful, personal design with a clear point of view.

What This Feature Reflects

What I love about this feature is that it highlights a kitchen that was not designed to be a one-size-fits-all showpiece. It was designed for a specific home, with a specific feeling, and for the people who actually live and cook there.

That is always where good design starts for me. I want a room to photograph beautifully, of course, but I also want it to feel right when the house is simply being used day to day. The finished space should feel beautiful and personal, but it should also make sense for the way the family lives.

With Deerfield, that meant creating a kitchen that felt layered, moody, warm, and grounded — not dramatic for the sake of being dramatic, but rich in a way that belonged to the home.

Why This Feature Feels Meaningful

This is my second time being featured in Philadelphia Magazine, and I do not take that lightly. The first was a cheerful, hardworking mudroom in New Hope. This time, it’s a dark, layered kitchen from our Deerfield Lane project. (The current feature is in the May issue of Philadelphia Magazine, and if it becomes available online, we will add the link here.)

Very different rooms, but both are the kinds of spaces I love designing: personal, useful, detailed, and made for real life.

Press is not something I think of as a magic switch that changes everything overnight. But that does not mean it does not matter.

It matters because it is a moment of recognition. It places the work in conversation with designers I respect, and it gives me a chance to pause and appreciate what it takes to bring a project from early conversations to finished rooms.

That is the part I keep coming back to.

I am building a design practice that allows me to stay close to the work, the clients, and the decisions that make each home feel personal. The details matter. The process matters. And the relationship with the client matters.

So when a project is recognized editorially, it feels meaningful — not because the goal is press, but because the work itself is being seen.

And that is a lovely thing.

About the Project

The kitchen featured in Philadelphia Magazine is part of our Deerfield Lane project.

This project has such a warm, layered feeling to it. The kitchen is dark and moody in the best way — not heavy or cold, but enveloping. That is one of the things I adore about darker kitchens when they are done well: They can make a room feel wrapped, grounded, and incredibly inviting.

For Deerfield, the dark green cabinetry gives the kitchen its depth, while the natural wood island keeps it warm. The stone counters and backsplash add movement and light, and the brass hardware and plumbing fixtures bring in just enough polish without making the room feel precious.

I also love the contrast in this kitchen: the dark cabinetry against the lighter vertical nickel gap, the black-framed windows, the warm wood floor, and the darker pendant lighting over the island. Those choices keep the room from feeling flat. There is a lot happening, but it still feels calm and livable.

This is what a darker palette needs in order to work well: balance, warmth, texture, and breathing room. Dark for the sake of drama can fall flat quickly. But when the materials are layered thoughtfully, the room gains depth and becomes a place you actually want to spend time.

The project also includes details and makers that are meaningful to the story of the home, making the choices feel specific, rather than generic. And that is always the goal –– not just a beautiful kitchen, but a kitchen that feels like it belongs to the home and the people living in it.

A Small Thank You

Thank you to the clients who trust the process, the craftspeople and collaborators who help bring these rooms to life, and the editors and writers who make space for local design stories.

It’s always special to see a finished project photographed, and even more special to see it recognized.

You can find Safferstone Interiors in the May issue of Philadelphia Magazine. If the feature becomes available online, I will add the link here.

And yes, I will be buying a few extra copies.

Step inside SafferStyle, the Safferstone newsletter.

Thoughtful notes on home, process, projects, and the details that make a space feel personal, polished, and lived in — delivered monthly(-ish) to your inbox.

Subscribe to SafferStyle.

Thinking about a project of your own?

If you are beginning to imagine what your home could become, I would love to hear what you are dreaming about, what is not working yet, and how you want the finished space to feel.

Reach out to start the conversation.

Appliance conversations often feel like they’re happening for someone else’s life.

A life where dinner is always a multi-course production, the kitchen is always spotless, and nobody is ever just… reheating leftovers while answering an email.

Meanwhile, in my life? I’m making grilled cheese. I’m boiling water for tea.

So here are a few unpopular opinions — less about status, more about sanity.

I care less about what’s “best” and more about what’s best for the way you actually live.

I make these choices with clients all the time, and the difference between a “pretty” decision and a livable one shows up fast.

Good design isn’t about guidelines. There aren’t any rules you can do this or that. It’s extremely personal to how you live your life. Don’t get trapped by the do’s and don’t. Here are some ways I encourage my clients to think differently about the way we’ve always done it. (I’m looking at you panel-ready fridges!)

 

1) Gas cooktops are beautiful… and I don’t love mine.

I know. Gas is the classic. The “chef’s choice.” The badge of honor.

But here’s the truth: gas is annoying to clean.

The grates, the crevices, the wiping, the scrubbing… it’s just a lot for the level of cooking most of us are doing most days.

And I’m not saying gas is “bad.” I’m saying: it might not be right for your actual life.

If I were doing it again, I’d seriously consider induction. It’s fast, it’s sleek, and it’s easier to keep clean. Which means the kitchen stays usable without feeling like a chore.

In real life, the cleaning is what breaks the relationship for a lot of people.

If you’re… then consider: If you cook daily and love high heat, gas may still be your thing. If you want fast + easy cleanup, induction is worth a look.

Discernment question:
Are you choosing gas because you love cooking… or because you love the idea of being a person who loves cooking?

2) Front-load washers look great… and I prefer a top-load.

Front-load laundry setups photograph beautifully.

You can add a countertop. Build cabinetry. Make a whole moment of it.

I’ve done it. I love the look.

And… I swapped my front-load for a top-load.

Why? Because for me, it’s easier to clean and maintain. It feels simpler. Less fiddly. More forgiving.

Is it harder to design around? Yes. There’s less opportunity for that seamless “built-in” look.

But this is one of those moments where I’ll choose function, maintenance, and ease over aesthetics — because that’s what keeps a home feeling good long-term.

Laundry rooms don’t fall apart because the tile isn’t pretty; they fall apart when the workflow is ignored.

If you’re… then consider: If you love a built-in look and don’t mind the upkeep, front-load can be great. If you want simplest maintenance, top-load wins.

Discernment question:
Is your laundry room meant to be styled… or meant to support the reality of your week?

 

3) Drawer microwaves had a moment… and I’d choose a speed oven first.

I get why drawer microwaves became the thing. Once the microwave-over-the-range look started feeling dated, drawer microwaves solved the problem: hide it, streamline it, move on.

But if I’m choosing? I’d rather have a speed oven.

A speed oven does more, looks better, and feels more considered. It gives you the everyday convenience people want from a microwave, but it can also handle the real-life extras — crisping, reheating, baking something small, warming up dinner without committing to the big oven. It works harder.

And aesthetically? I just think it’s the smarter luxury move. Paired with a wall oven, it feels integrated and intentional instead of tucked away as a workaround. It looks cleaner, more elevated, and more custom.

This is one of those decisions where I’m always asking: do you want the thing everyone expects… or the thing you’ll actually be glad you chose once you’re living with it?

If you’re… then consider: If your main goal is simply hiding the microwave, a drawer microwave can still work. But if you want more function, a more polished look, and an appliance that actually earns its footprint, I’d look at a speed oven first.

Discernment question:
Do you want the appliance everyone expects… or the one that actually earns its place in your kitchen?

The prettiest option isn’t always the best option.

The prettiest option isn’t always the best one.

Sometimes the most design-forward choice is the right one. And sometimes it’s just a very attractive inconvenience.

Because the goal isn’t a kitchen or laundry room that photographs beautifully. It’s a home that feels easy to live in.

And ease is its own kind of luxury — fewer headaches, fewer chores, fewer moments of wondering why you signed up for this in the first place.

So before you choose, ask yourself: not what looks best, but what will feel best to live with.

That’s the difference between a good-looking room and a well-designed life.

Decision Shortcut (before you fall in love with the prettiest option)

This is the same way I approach a whole room: pick the priority first, then build the plan in the right order.

Pick your top priority first. Then,and only then, let it make the decision for you.

Is your non-negotiable:

• speed?
• easy cleaning?
• capacity?
• lowest maintenance?
• the look?

If everything is a non-negotiable, nothing is.

Trade Resource (because good support matters)

If appliances are part of a bigger project, having the right support makes the whole process smoother.

I’ve started working with a new appliance partner I’ve genuinely enjoyed. They only work with the trades, they’re helpful, and they made swapping my washer/dryer surprisingly painless.

They’re especially good for clients who want clear guidance, fewer headaches, and a process that feels straightforward.

They provided my new set at no cost (sharing transparently), and I’m mentioning them because I only recommend partners I truly like working with.

If you want their info, reach out through the contact page and I’ll point you in the right direction.

 

The takeaway

Appliances aren’t just features. They’re part of your daily life.

And the best design decisions aren’t always the “most impressive” ones.

They’re the ones that make your house easier to live in.

Because that’s what we’re really designing for: a home that feels good on ordinary days.

 

A short “Top 4” ending that tees into the checklist

And that’s really the whole point of my unpopular opinions:

1. Choose for your real life, not your aspirational alter ego.
2. Let maintenance have a seat at the table.
3. If something is beautiful but exhausting… it’s allowed to be a no.
4. Sequence matters. Decide what you value first, then choose the appliance that supports that.

Because appliances aren’t a personality test. They’re the background soundtrack to your Tuesday night.

If you’re deciding right now, here’s the simplest way to get unstuck: use this quick checklist before you commit. It’s basically discernment in question form (and it will save Future You a lot of sighing).

 

Quick Appliance Decision Checklist →

Want help deciding in the right order?

If appliances are one piece of a larger puzzle, start with the Whole-Room Roadmap.

And if you’re local and want my trade resource for appliance support, reach out through the contact page and I’ll share the details.