On my dresser, an antique wooden dresser I’ve used since I was a child, is a little wooden box. Inside the box are two tiny things—a tiny tea cup and a tiny beer stein. Nearby on a shelf I have a collection of special things I’ve collected over the years: seashells, a Russian matryoshka doll I bought in Moscow, a few small owls, sand art in jars from Brazil and the Philippines, and a couple cobalt glass pieces I inherited from my grandmother’s collection, among other knickknacks. I also have this tiny little glass swan which a glass blower made for me when I was a small child. My mom and I went into his shop to look at the pretty glass things and he made it for me in a matter of minutes and then gave it to me as a gift. I’ve treasured it ever since. Somehow, it’s still intact.
I see these objects, and I feel connected to myself—to my childhood self, to my past travels, and to my family heritage. I also feel joy and delight. That tiny little tea cup and beer mug are not objectively special, except they are tiny and cute and I’ve had them since I was a kid. They make me smile. And somehow, that’s why they’re worth keeping all these years.
If you watch enough HGTV or follow interior design accounts on social media, you may think there’s only one right way to style a home—neutral colors, minimalist décor, and the must-have open floor plan. This kind of design is good for staging a home to sell, but it’s so devoid of personality. And don’t get me started about bookshelves organized by color—or worse, all-white books just for show. *gasp*
Home design and decorating have never been my strong suit. It takes me a really long time to decide what to hang up on a wall and even longer to get it up there. I always second guess myself and doubt my instincts. I worry that my vision won’t align with best practices or that it won’t be appealing to anyone but me.
I love visiting people’s homes and learning new things about them, just by looking at what they hang on the walls or display on the shelves in the living room. The way we decorate our homes is an opportunity to tell the story of our lives. Sure, I get a certain pleasure in an immaculately designed, minimalistic aesthetic. But I feel a deeper connection to people when their home has more personal touches.
Recently we went to visit my aunt and uncle in their new home, which is this fantastic 100+ year-old house with hardwood floors and original woodwork all over the interior. Their delight in their house was evident as they took us room by room to show off the features and décor. It was so fun for me to see how they had made the house their own, as if they’d lived there forever. Beautiful hand-painted, Eastern Orthodox icons greeted us in the foyer. Family photos, including black and white framed wedding portraits of their parents, hung along the stairway wall. My cousin’s bedroom was full of dozens of medals and trophies from his swim meets over the years. I noticed little tchotchkes that had belonged to my grandmother before she died displayed here and there. And when we sat down to enjoy a smorgasbord of German cookies and hot cocoa, my uncle explained that the beautiful dark wood table was a family heirloom. Nearby, a large wooden cabinet with glass doors showcased dozens of painted wooden figures—a collection of German incense smokers in a similar style to nutcrackers, except all kinds of different characters including a barmaid and Martin Luther.
What I loved most about this visit was how much pride they took in their home and how their décor was a reflection of their personalities, interests, and family heritages. Their home was unapologetically them.
Yesterday I stumbled upon a Facebook group called “Maximalist Design and Décor.” This group is for people who decorate their homes to the max. Bold colors, big patterns, chunky frames, and quirky objects splashed all over. Go check it out for yourself—it’s a public group. Some may think this design aesthetic is gawdy or cluttered, but to me it exudes playfulness and joy. You don’t have to like someone’s color choices or art style or eclectic doll collection to appreciate their creative expression or to feel vicarious delight in what delights them.
Here are a few photos I pulled from the group (and reposted with the original posters’ permission) that showcase a variety of maximalist design styles:
I don’t think I’ll completely adopt a maximalist interior design style for my own house, but I’m inspired to find ways to incorporate more delight and joy into my home. I’m naturally drawn to bold colors and vintage styles, but I think what most intrigues me about this group is how each person’s home reflects their unique personality and interests. It’s less about fitting into a certain style or to please other people and more about making your house your own. Someone in the group recently shared that she was advised to decorate and style her home in a way that future buyers would appreciate. But she threw that advice right out the window—this was her home now. She wasn’t going to decorate it for some hypothetical stranger’s taste!
I love that perspective. I want my home to feel inviting and welcoming to visitors, but I also want it to be comfortable for myself and my family. And more than comfort, I want it to spark joy. Those little personal touches, like framed needlework art, knickknacks from childhood, family heirlooms, or even quirky objects that make me smile or laugh are all worth displaying, regardless of whether they fit into a particular design aesthetic that others would approve of. I’ve never really thought about the walls of my house as a place to experiment and play, but I will now. Decorating has felt stressful to me before, because I wanted to do it the “right way.” But maybe there is no right way. Just decorate in a way that makes you happy.
I’m curious if you have any quirky style choices or special items on display in your home that are of particular interest to you, but may not be everyone else’s cup of tea. What stories are you telling in your décor? Or, is there a home you’ve visited that took your breath away with its unique style? I’d love to hear about it!
Thanks for reading,
—NK
As a photographer and artist interested in memory, we try to incorporate things/images that are sentimental but not necessarily obvious. It’s fun! One of the oddest things I have on display is a large hand painted sign that once was above my grandfathers clothing store
I also love the interior design of the foundation room restaurants - particularly in New Orleans. It’s maximalism to the max!