Blank Space Is The Point (Sometimes)
- 3 days ago
- 3 min read
Oh, the rooms I have seen in my now 22-year career as an interior designer…
Beautiful ones where things were tastefully executed; chaotic ones that felt like an adolescent was handed a credit card and turned loose in a craft store; rooms that were obviously expensive, but somehow still had an air of regret; and modest ones that felt like a peaceful exhale. It might be surprising to learn that what distinguishes tasteful from chaotic and regretful from peaceful rarely has to do with what’s physically in the room. It's almost always what isn't in the room.
Learning to edit (early, often, and without apology) anything that doesn't belong is what separates a curated room from a decorated one. This is not a popular thing to say in an industry built on selling you more things, but I'd rather tell you the truth.
The Edit Is the Foundation
Before a single item is specified on an RCL project, we ask a question that sounds almost too simple: “What does this room actually need to do?” Not “what should it look like?”
"What does it need to do for the people who live in it?"
This practice helps us identify misalignments between what a client hopes their lifestyle will be and what it actually is. Often, that leads to some courageous conversations about things they’ve held on to for years and whether those things are truly serving them.
Maybe it’s impulse purchases amassed during TJ Maxx runs over many years; sometimes it’s furniture that was inherited and has sentimental value but doesn’t align with how they use their space. More often than not, it’s a big-ticket purchase that was made pre-RCL that, as I like to say, is “bossing the room around” and needs to go.
I get it; parting with purchases is difficult. We spend our hard-earned money on things hoping they’ll buy us a little happiness, and then here I come, calling them out for not working.
However, clients who are most resistant to this process at the beginning are always the most grateful for it at the end. The relief of a room that feels finished, not just temporarily styled, is something you can't un-feel once you've experienced it.
Why More Is the Default (and Why That's a Problem)
The home industry, like the fashion industry, has a financial interest in keeping you in a state of perpetual incompletion. There is always a new collection, a new trend, a new thing your room is missing. There is a meaningful difference between adding something because it genuinely works in the context of the whole space and adding something because it's available and pretty, and because you've been conditioned to believe more is more.
More is not more. More is just more. And at some point it tips over into noise.
Our design process has a very clear beginning, middle, and end because I’ve seen time and time again how clients hemorrhage money by buying one thing at a time, only to replace them all in a loop because the space is never quite right.
The Edit in Practice
Before we design anything, we walk the space and ask three questions about each piece: Does it work? Does it belong? Does it need to be here, or are you just used to it?
Humans are remarkably good at becoming accustomed to things that don't serve us: a lamp that's too small for the table it's on. The rug that was huge in the old house and looks like a postage stamp in the new one. We stop seeing them because we've lived around them for years.
Part of what my team brings to a project is fresh eyes and the ability to see what you've gotten used to. And most of the time, when we walk through a space, the first thing we’re thinking about is what we can take away.
Where to Start
If you want to try the edit yourself, start with one question: What would I miss if it was gone? Not “what do I love,” or “what was expensive?”
"What would I miss if it wasn’t here anymore?"
Everything that doesn't make the cut is your answer.
Want to edit your home with our expert team by your side? Tell us about your project here.
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