Interior designer Jess Cooney is one of Homes & Gardens' new Editors-At-Large for By Design, sharing her thoughts on decor through her lens of soft light, vintage pieces, and a sepia-tinged palette. See the rest of her articles here.
On the day of the first meeting, my clients are often nervous when I walk through their home. They feel vulnerable, apologetic, worried that I’ll judge the condition of their home – or them – for how they live. But that moment, stepping into someone’s space for the first time and seeing exactly how they live, has always been one of my favorite parts of the design process. It’s an opportunity to listen, to really understand them and their pain points. Anyone can ask about room color ideas or decorating with patterns – that’s the easy part. The real design work begins with uncovering what isn’t working.
I look for places where the energy feels stuck. I listen for frustration, and I notice where clutter gathers – and why. I often hear a familiar refrain from women with small children: ‘Maybe I’m just really type A, but I need things a certain way and I feel overwhelmed all the time.’ Over the years, I’ve come to understand what they really mean: ‘My home doesn’t feel right, and I can’t quite put my finger on why. So I blame myself – my anxiety, my constant feeling of being flustered.’
But the chaos these homeowners describe isn’t a personal failing – it’s a space failing. It’s the poorly planned kitchen that forces you to zigzag just to unload the dishwasher. It’s the back door that dumps backpacks, shoes, and soccer gear straight into the living room. It’s the missing pantry, the undersized laundry area, the closets that never quite fit what they need to. These design flaws create daily stress. My job is to design homes that support the people who live in them – spaces that make life flow more easily instead of working against them at every turn.
I’ve walked through stunning homes with tennis courts, swimming pools, and sprawling family rooms – yet nowhere to hang a coat when you walk in. I’ve seen massive houses where all the daily chaos bottlenecks into one narrow hallway, shoes piled up, a single closet crammed with three seasons’ worth of jackets.
When it’s time to help clients prioritize their wishlist, there’s one space I almost always recommend tackling first: the mudroom. When designed well – with smart storage, durable materials, and a thoughtful flow – it becomes the launchpad for family life. Get this one room right, and the rest of the home naturally falls into place. Despite its modest name, the mudroom sets the tone for how life moves through a home. It’s the threshold you cross each morning as you head out, and the landing pad you return to at the end of a long day.
We ask so much of this space – it now often serves as the main entry for family and guests alike. Four seasons’ worth of backpacks, pet gear, laundry, and ski equipment all converge here, and without a system, it’s easy to feel overwhelmed before the day even begins.
As I walk through a home for the first time, I’m already imagining soft-close drawers with hidden charging ports, hooks hung at just the right height for heavy backpacks, a mix of open and closed storage, and tumbled stone floors that can stand up to snow, mud, dog hair, and daily life. I know I’ve done my job when my clients feel that elusive sense of calm – standing in their mudroom, grabbing a coat and the dog leash, and heading out for a Berkshire hike with ease.
