Evolution Of An Aesthetic – Design Discontent or Design Enthusiasm? (And Also, Is A Room Ever Truly Done?)

Is a room ever truly done? Is there a point when you place that last piece of art, step back, and think “that’s it, I’m finished” and walk away never to touch it again? Or are rooms ever-evolving, design playgrounds that are meant to be constantly tweaked? More importantly – what do you do with those feelings of design discontent?

Maybe you know what I’m talking about – the experience of walking into a room in your home that is supposed to be “finished” . . . but doesn’t feel finished in your soul. You may look around the room and think “what does it need? Why aren’t you there yet?!” And the majority of the time you spend in that space you’re just trying to figure out what you could do to the room, what you could replace in the room, or what you could bring into the room that would just give your design brain satisfaction at long last – “THIS is the way this room is meant to be.”

looking back at this room now, from our first apartment, all i can think is how EMPTY it looks

And truly, what is the difference between design discontent (where you don’t feel satisfied by the design in a space and possibly frustrated that the room “isn’t there yet”) and design enthusiasm (where a room is never truly finished, because you as a human will never truly finish evolving your design aesthetic)? By the way, these aren’t official scientific terms. These are just the terms I’ve assigned to help myself grapple with my own mental tug-of-war on the topic. 

Personally, it can be hard for me to separate out feelings of design discontent, design enthusiasm, and just design restlessness and impatience because our house isn’t fully renovated yet. So even though we’ve “finished” certain spaces in our house (our living room and dining room & our TV room), they can’t truly be at peace because now we’re renovating our kitchen and office, and suddenly the dining room is just kitchen storage. And the primary bedroom and both bathrooms are still on the list.

do i need a floor to ceiling gallery wall where those two big pieces are? or linen curtains with french ticking over the big dining room window? bigger art over the bar cart? wallpaper on the ceiling???

Let’s dive a little deeper into my own issues, so maybe y’all can play design therapist in the comments and help me sort my life out. When Velinda designed our living room and dining room Mac and I were coming out from under an almost year-long renovation. And before that Mac and I had spent the last year and half living in non-permanent situations, surrounded by unpacked boxes, rolled up rugs, and suitcase closets. I was tired of clutter, mess, and just wanted our home to be clean and fresh. Both she and Mac wanted more colorful and bold art, and I said no. I really pushed the design in a muted and minimal direction – and she delivered! The living room and dining room are bright, open, clean, spaces with a neutral color palette. And I LOVED it.

photography by sara ligorria-tramp | from: sara’s living room and dining room reveal

But now I’ve been spending all of my time in these rooms, 24/7 (I’ve been extremely lucky to be able to work from home) and I’m feeling a lack of something. When I walk into these spaces I look around and feel at my core that it’s not done yet. That it needs more . . . something. But what that “something” is, I’m not sure yet. I love all the pieces Velinda picked, and the layout of the rooms she designed works so well. So is it the art I picked? The empty wall space or all white walls? Classic design discontent.

photography by sara ligorria-tramp | from: sara’s dark and moody tv room reveal

In contrast, when I walk into our TV room it feels DONE. My heart feels happy in that room. But that doesn’t mean my design eye is at rest. I’ve already come up with two elements I want to add to that space and one element I want to change (keeping these under wraps in case we actually get around to implementing them *wink*). Classic design enthusiasm – there’s no uncertainty or frustration, but there’s still this sense of “but it could get even better.“

I think both of these design afflictions are the results of several key factors:

First, I am naturally a really decisive person. I make quick decisions, and am a big gut instinct, emotional reactionary. But I’m not necessarily a person of great conviction. If you present me with more options or information I’m just as quick to change my mind. In design terms, this means I’m also really quick to pivot directions. I can only imagine it gives Mac design whiplash, because by the time he’s come around to agreeing to my first or second design idea for a space, I’m already working on design idea 33.Second, I’m surrounded by design trends all the time. It’s part of my job. My eyeballs are constantly being pulled in different directions and I’m falling in love with different styles and aesthetics over and over again. Figuring out what is just an infatuation versus what feels true to my identity and will be a long term appreciation can be really difficult. Thirdly, a recent widening of my view of design has me craving design MAXIMALISM. It’s no secret that at the start of June many of design enthusiasts (myself included) were made explicitly aware of how narrow and white our view of design has been. And how much of the design content we consumed via editorial content and social media algorithms just further reinforced that narrow view of design. My feeds were the same versions of minimal, bright, light-colored, neutral design over and over. The issue of racial inequity in the design industry is obviously a much larger and important topic, but needless to say, my feed has drastically changed since June, because the diversity of designers and content creators I follow has begun to drastically change. I’m still seeing those bright, minimal spaces, but I’m also seeing spaces with deep colors, busy patterns, bright tiles, and just so many more design aesthetics.



peek that next door room, my moms true aesthetic

This last point hit an especially personal note for me. I was raised in homes decorated by my mom – a Latina woman from Guatemala, and renovated by my dad – a wonderfully talented self-taught craftsman whose appreciation for historic detail is second to none. So our homes were always filled with a mix of traditional details, and bright textiles and pattern. I loved it. My parents let me paint my walls mint green growing up. But after several years of working in the interior design field, my idea of what was “elegant and elevated” design had been so skewed that I had lost appreciation for my own parent’s design aesthetic. And when I designed their living room, I really pushed the design in a direction that eliminated a lot of the color and vibrancy that reflected them (my mom especially). She had wanted to paint the walls a color, and paint the ceiling blue – I pushed for all white (we compromised by going with white walls and a soft yellow ceiling). She wanted a brightly colored sofa – I pushed for leather. She wanted colored frames for the art with colored mats – I went traditional with wood, black, and white frames. She wanted a rug with lots of yellow and red – I found a white rug that had “pops” of yellow and orange. I told myself I was bringing in enough of her design with textiles and small moments of color.

photo by sara ligorria-tramp | from: sara gives her momma’s living room a mother’s day refresh

I essentially designed her living room in a way that I felt would make it more acceptable to this narrow view of design I had formed. Unpacking even this one small instance of white-washed design has been difficult. But reflecting on it, along with a recent exposure to more varied design perspectives, feels like it’s cracked me open to appreciating, respecting, and craving more of the design I grew up with. This isn’t to say I’m ready to paint my living room orange (my parent’s family room is a bright orange, with yellow painted woodwork, and cobalt blue trim). I definitely know that my design aesthetic skews more quirky, traditional victorian. But I’m ready for bolder patterns, more deep color, and less minimal neutrals. I want wallpaper, contrasting trim colors, vintage rugs with deep colors, painted walls, and walls more filled with vintage and traditional art.

By the way, my mom has since painted the ceiling of that living room blue