Welcome to the first column in a new series by interior designers and LALA Reimagined founders, Lia McNairy and Azar Fattahi, as they join Homes & Gardens’ By Design to reveal how they craft projects and moments brimming with personality.
Some moments quietly remind us why we do what we do as creatives and interior designers. For us, one of those moments unfolded around a recent candlelit summer table setting in the Hamptons.
What started as a casual mention of a dinner hosted by David Alhadeff of The Future Perfect and celebrated lighting designer Lindsey Adelman became far more meaningful than we anticipated. We arrived expecting an elegant evening of design-minded conversation– and we found that – but we left with a renewed appreciation for the emotional thread running through all great design: human connection.
The setting was impeccable, blending intimacy with aesthetic care. Lindsey’s home radiated intention without pretence. Fireflies cast a soft, golden glow over a long table by the pool, while guests from across the design world came together over shared plates and stories. In an industry often focused on objects – the chair, the lamp, the layout – it was a refreshing reminder that the soul of design lies in the people who inhabit it.
That night, we weren’t merely admiring our surroundings; we were part of a living example of design at its best: fostering community and creating a backdrop for belonging. What felt revolutionary wasn’t scale or spectacle, but simplicity. No product launches, no agendas – just designers, creatives, and makers being human together. Perhaps that’s the most radical design move of all.
There’s an important takeaway here: design is not merely about beautifying spaces – it’s about creating moments; what we like to call the art of living. A beautifully set dinner table can emerge from a seasonal harvest, sourced thoughtfully from the land. At LALA, when we set a table, we fill it with figs, pomegranates, walnuts, kumquats, or whatever the season provides. These natural centerpieces, layered among Ginori plates and amber carafes that catch the light with their citrine glow, make guests feel as if the table has been arranged just for them – intentionally, thoughtfully – setting the stage for conversation and connection.
A room arranged with care, where the chairs are angled just so, extends a silent but warm welcome. These are acts of hospitality and empathy. The homes and gardens we nurture are more than private sanctuaries; they are stages for connection, dialogue, and community – a canvas where the art of living comes alive.
So the next time an invitation lands in your inbox, we encourage you: say yes. Say yes to the gathering, to the conversation, to the chance to connect with people who see the world a little like you – or, even more intriguingly, very differently. And if you’re hosting, give yourself the space and time to care for the table as much as you do the plates, to craft an experience that feels intentional and welcoming.
Sometimes, all it takes is one evening – one thoughtfully designed space – to remind us that we are not creating in isolation. We are part of something larger. We are, quite simply, in good company.
