Interior designer Ashley Montgomery is one of Homes & Gardens' new Editors-At-Large for By Design, sharing her thoughts on decor. See the rest of her articles here.
There’s a moment we all know – the one that happens right after you kick off your shoes, drop your keys somewhere questionable, and release that first big, blissful sigh. It’s the moment your home reveals its true personality. Some spaces greet you like an old friend, warm and familiar. Others flirt a little, whispering, ‘Hey… I’ve missed you.’ And then there are the stiff ones, standing awkwardly, as if waiting for permission to exhale.
The difference? Sensory magic.
I realized this completely by accident. I stepped into a friend’s home – nothing fancy, nothing showy, yet everything felt right. The walls were layered with art in mismatched, timeworn frames. Velvets and patterns played happily together. Candles glowed softly, catching on every surface. And instantly, I felt… held. Not literally (she was busy pouring bubbly into the most perfect coupes), but the space itself wrapped around me. The light was gentle, the sofa practically begged to be curled up on, the air smelled like citrus and vanilla had produced a very charming offspring, and even the low hum of the fridge felt oddly comforting. My nervous system relaxed on the spot.
That’s when it clicked: a home that truly comforts you isn’t built on trend boards or perfectly styled shelves. It’s built on the senses – those invisible layers that make a room feel alive, attentive, and deeply human. Once you start noticing them, it becomes almost impossible not to start designing to feel happier at home.
Sight, for starters, is the obvious one. But creating visual comfort isn’t about having the ‘right’ vase on the ‘right’ shelf. It’s about letting your home flirt a little. Patterns that playfully nudge each other from across the room. A stripe leaning toward a floral, a geometric print giving a wink to a vintage rug. Colors that know how to set a mood: buttery beige that whispers calm, or a deep green that feels like wandering into your own private forest.
And the lighting… oh, the lighting. If sight is the diva of the senses, lighting is its hype squad. Warm, glowy lamps. Candles flickering in corners like they’re sharing secrets. A soft pool of light falling perfectly across a stack of books. Good lighting doesn’t demand attention. It just quietly makes everything – and everyone – look better.
But your eyes alone can’t do all the heavy lifting. That’s where touch steps in – the unsung hero. The reason you reach for the nubby wool throw instead of the ‘decorative only’ one, or trail your fingers over the grain of a wooden table without thinking. Texture gives a room personality. A boucle chair that feels like an old knitted beige sweater, the epitome of comfort. A linen duvet, perfectly rumpled. A cool marble coaster that feels indulgent under your fingertips. When soft, rough, smooth, fluffy, and natural elements coexist, your home suddenly has depth. It’s like a personality you want to hang out with.
And then there’s smell – the sneaky, unforgettable one. A home’s scent tells its story before you even notice the furniture. A hint of eucalyptus drifting from a vase. The soft, sweet mix of vanilla and wood. Fresh citrus zing from a lemon sliced just moments ago. These invisible touches linger, shaping the mood and memory of a space. Scent doesn’t try to impress; it just is.
Sound is subtle, but it works wonders too. Most of the time, we only notice it when it’s wrong: bare walls echoing, silence feeling too heavy. A well-loved home, however, has a soundtrack. Footsteps softly thumping on a rug. A kettle humming its gentle tune. Music drifting lazily through the rooms, like it’s floating on a cloud. Even a flickering candle adds a little heartbeat.
And taste – yes, taste matters too. Not just the literal kind (though that’s delightful), but the way a home feeds rituals and comfort. Soup simmering on a rainy day. Fresh herbs snipped from a sunny windowsill. A bowl of ripe fruit shines like edible jewels on the counter. These touches nourish more than appetite – they nourish your life.
When all of these senses come together, your home stops being just a set of rooms. It becomes an experience. The light hits just right. The sofa hugs you back. The air carries a whisper of comfort. Even the quiet feels full. Your senses get nudged in the best possible way until you realize: ‘Oh. This is why I love it here.’
Because the truth? The homes we fall for aren’t the ones that impress. They’re the ones that move us, that touch us – literally and figuratively – sparking a small, delicious joy every time we walk through the door.
A home that engages all your senses doesn’t just look good.
It feels like you.
It feels alive.
