The Slow Home: Creating Safe Spaces Piece by Piece
I had a revelation the other day.
I sat, putting the final touches on our master bedroom, wondering why it was such a therapeutic practice for me. I’m not particularly good at interior design. I’m not following any rules or patterns, nor would I expect anyone to emulate my “style” when it comes to our home.
In that moment, I realized that be it our home, our business, my wardrobe, my social media or any other space I curate, I do so to create safety. Safe spaces are my forte. Not just for me, of course, but for those around me. I love creating spaces that feel like home, whether it’s our actual home or not. I want my blog to feel like home to my readers, I want my cafe to feel like a home away from home to a tourist stopping in to refuel. In a time when so much hinges on uncertainty, clinging to coziness, home, and familiarity is something we all long for.
No one, most likely, will copy my aesthetic when it comes to our home. We don’t have a particularly “Instagramable” vibe and I’ve simply accepted the fact that I’m never going to recreate the visuals I see online in our home. Our life is messy, with three kids and two dogs and two working adults. Our life isn’t put together or clean or curated. But, it does feel safe. And that is something I hope you want to emulate. The feeling of safety within your home design — like creating walls that wrap you up each time you enter. Your home, Pinterest-worthy or not, should be a reflection of what makes you feel safe, comfortable, and happy.
Nothing more.
Our bedroom felt like the ultimate example of this “philosophy”.
I dreamed of a space that felt open, easy to maintain, and filled with pieces that made me feel peaceful and at rest. Safe. I leaned heavily on neutrals and warm tones to help counteract the grey-ness of our walls (that, frankly, I can’t summon the energy to repaint quite yet).
An interior designer would have a rug positioned just so under the bed. There would be more greenery (a giant monstera couldn’t hurt). And we most definitely wouldn’t have a clunky metal bed frame when we could have a midcentury modern wooden piece that reflected minimalism and allowed space for the geometric mural in place of a headboard.
But, we all know, I’m not an interior designer. I’m just a person who craves cozy spaces and creates them within the limits of my reality (a free-to-us bed frame, an upcylced mirror, a vintage bench, and spray painted bedside tables).
The artwork above our bed was a birthday gift — purchased via Etsy, printed via Canva, and hung in the most affordable way possible. Our linens are from Poshmark, for goodness sake.
You see, a home isn’t one that comes together all at once. It doesn’t have to be one that’s designed professionally with the height of trendiness in mind. It can come together slowly, piece by piece, as if each item is coming home to you in its own time to complete the room.
And do you know the only thing that actually matters?
Whether you feel safe in that room. Whether it reflects you and the kind of feelings you want to conjure up.
The only item that came to us brand new, and the one we’ll certainly keep around the longest, is our mattress from EcoSleep. This is our first “real mattress” after sleeping on the same one AJ had in high school for the entirety of our relationship (yikes, I know). Made with organic cotton and latex, this mattress is the focal point of the room — mainly because I know how insanely comfortable it is and spend the majority of my time in it or wishing I was in it.
Our room was pulled together piece by piece, much like a sustainable wardrobe is. And I’m sure that it’s not in it’s final form (what space is ever truly finished?) but for now, 4 months into our house ownership, it feels safe and it feels like home.
*Thank you to EcoSleep by Brooklyn Bedding for gifting us the mattress. As always, all creative direction, opinions, and imagery are my own.*
