Welcome to the first in a new series of columns by Zoë Feldman, designer and founder of Zoë Feldman Design, as she joins Homes & Gardens’ By Design to share how she creates rooms that are as effortless to live in as they are beautiful to look at.
In a world where everything is filtered, formatted, and vying for likes, our homes quietly retain a superpower that no digital screen can replicate: the ability to reveal the unfiltered truth of who we are. They tell that story not through perfection, but through quirks, contradictions, and character. Through soul.
I’ve never trusted a room that feels too perfect. You know the type: all beige everything, no books meant for reading in sight, perfectly styled. A well-designed room should invite you to flop on the sofa, pull a book from the shelf, and stay a while. Good design isn’t flawless – it’s personal. A scratched floor from dancing in the kitchen, a chipped bowl from a roadside market in France, the stack of novels you swear you’ll finish – these are the details that make a space feel alive. They are what separate a showroom from a home.
Rooms should reflect who you are, not hide it behind closed doors. Show me the kids’ drawings, the records, the inherited artwork valuable only for sentiment, the comically large collection of vases. (We all have a thing – mine happens to be an unusual number of ceramics shaped like hands and feet. I have no idea how it started.) Color matters too. Color has power. It can make a room feel cozy, energetic, moody, or calm. A thoughtful color story sets the tone for your entire space before anyone even speaks.
But design isn’t just about 'vibes.' Your space has to function. Form follows function, as Louis Sullivan said, and I believe a beautiful room is useless if you can’t easily adjust the lights, hold a conversation, or set your drink down. A home should feel alive and intuitive. Furniture should make sense for how you live. If you have to move a chair every time you open a cabinet, something’s off. Real life is unpredictable. Your home should be the calm in that chaos: soft walls, plush upholstery, room for mess, space for guests, and yes, room to grow.
That last part is crucial. A home should evolve with you, not become a time capsule sealed in grout. Permanent design choices shouldn’t follow trends – leave those to paint, accessories, and the occasional quirky lamp. Hard-to-change elements deserve materials that age gracefully. I love a honed marble countertop with an ogee edge or a handmade subway tile that feels warm and interesting without ever making you cringe. Your home is not a time machine; it’s a living, breathing space. Let it grow with you.
Put art on your walls. Lots of it. I love wallpaper and paint as much as the next designer, but nothing beats art that means something to you. It can be bold, subtle, romantic, surreal, or completely bonkers. It can make you laugh or cry. It can cost a fortune or absolutely nothing. Some of the best gallery walls I’ve ever created were a mashup of kids’ drawings, vintage prints, family photos, and one serious piece anchoring it all. Play with scale, mix your frames, and embrace the quirks. Art gives a room its pulse.
At the end of the day, designing for real life is about creating a home that works hard and loves you back. One that wears in, not out. One that makes space for your history and your evolving taste. That’s functional, comfortable, and unmistakably you. A home isn’t just where you live – it’s where you tell your story, one overstuffed sofa, chipped plate, and wine-stained counter at a time.
