I was visiting a client the other day when she asked me if I thought one of the rooms in her home needed to be renovated. The question, which I get asked a lot, is no longer something that makes me scratch my head. Why? Because I’ve realized that familiarity can sometimes lead us to go on auto-pilot and stop seeing our surroundings or feeling whether we still like them or not.

Several times a month sales representatives come to my studio to show me the latest offerings from design houses. As I fan through the colorful samples I am frequently asked the same question, “What colors are you working with this season?” That question confounds me every time I hear it, but my reply is always the same. “I’m working with whatever colors my clients need.”

I was chatting with a friend who has been house hunting and feeling exasperated, having lost out on several potential homes that she really liked. For the past few months, buyers have been lining up for open houses, paying tens of thousands over asking price, and waiving contingencies and inspections, all to be the winners of the prize - a home.

In this era of Covid quarantining, people are buying new homes and doing renovation work at a pace we haven’t seen in years. One of the best perks of being an interior designer is that I get to accompany people through the process of making a thought or a dream turn into a reality. I recently gave clients a photo book chronicling the year-long journey we’d just gone on together, totally gutting and re-designing their new homes interior. Standing together in the completed rooms, we reminisced about the ideas and wish lists that started the process, and marveled at where we’d ended up. I wish I could say it happened by magic wand, but we all knew better.

I’m happy to say that I think our homes are being recognized for the important role they play in our lives, and I thank the pandemic for making that so clear. Designers and contractors are busier than ever, as people are once again putting focus on investing and improving the home. I’ve heard many people say how grateful they are that they have a place to ride out this storm and how the home has risen to the challenge of accepting the added burdens we’ve put on them. We are finally showing our homes the love and respect they deserve, but have never asked for.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the symbolism of empty vessels and it came full circle in a conversation I had with my son. He was recounting a visit he’d had to a friend’s apartment when he inquired about all the empty bottles sitting on shelves and on tabletops. They were all very beautifully shaped and colored and had originally been designed to hold other things like wine, perfume and pampering bath salts. Now they sat, without notice or purpose, as time passed them by. When my son asked what they were being saved for, his friend stammered a bit before producing a litany of ways they could be repurposed and projects they’d be perfect for. Yet there they sit, as yet another year comes and goes.