How I've come into my own interior style
Everything that's influencing the design of my apartment.
I don’t think I've ever specifically defined my interior style—but over the past few years I’ve started to better understand what I’m most drawn to. I appreciate simple, well-made pieces crafted with quality materials and thoughtful finishes. I’m especially fond of vintage items, or those that echo the lines, curves, and textures of pieces that have aged gracefully—those that carry the quiet beauty of time, use, and love.
Since launching my Substack about a year ago though, I have started to see clearer patterns in the interiors I include in round ups (like my recent summer edition) or the designers I routinely highlight (like Studio Ashby, Laura Gonzalez, Jenna Chused, Benjamin Vandiver and Pierce & Ward). I can now reference specific moments that have influenced my style—travels to countries abroad, interiors observed during the everyday, and the home I spent my childhood in.
I’ve been fortunate enough to travel regularly and I often find myself scrolling through my camera roll—rediscovering inspiration in the images I’ve captured of architecture, textiles and art. French style, in particular, has completely stolen my heart and continues to be one of the most significant influences shaping my aesthetic today.
When in France, visits to Les Puces de Saint-Ouen are always a highlight—full of character, history, and rare vintage items that spark new ideas. Just as meaningful are the unexpected moments: the curve of an iron grate on a front door, the folds on a dress spotted at the Dior exhibit. I keep these visuals tucked away and return to them when I’m searching for inspiration or trying to refine the pieces I bring into my own space. The snapshots below are from various trips to France, each moment playing a role in my design point of view.
Beyond travels to France, visits to cities like Copenhagen, Amsterdam, and London have continued to shape my design perspective—broadening my understanding of aesthetics, functionality, and the cultural nuances that inspire impactful design.
While travel will always be a major source of inspiration for my design sensibility, there’s also something equally special about the everyday. A stroll through Soho, fresh flowers at the farmer’s market—there is beauty in the small details that surround us, even when not on a far-flung European adventure. The snapshots below are from the JACQUEMUS store in New York—designed in collaboration with Simon Porte Jacquemus and architecture firm OMA. The flagship is a refined study in contrast—where minimalist sophistication meets the warmth of Provençal charm. In a full-circle moment, the boutique now occupies the very same building that once housed One Kings Lane, where I spent a few years on the brand marketing team.
My mother’s design choices during my childhood also left a lasting impression, and it’s only in hindsight that I see how much they influenced my own aesthetic. That home, where I lived until I left for college, quietly laid the foundation for my design sensibilities. My mom is a curbside treasure hunter, a patient refinisher of furniture, and a careful curator of Danish, French, and other antiques. Her palette leans toward quiet, neutral tones, with color introduced in soft, considered moments: peachy fabric on a living room sofa, or mint-green ceramics tucked between books on shelves. Each item imbued with a sense of character that unknowingly influenced my own eye.
These days, I’m thoughtfully curating my small (but mighty) apartment. I’ve learned there’s no need to rush in design—as we said at One Kings Lane, “Design is Never Done.” My current space—a roughly 250-square-foot studio in Brooklyn—is filled with items collected over time. Each piece carries a story. There’s the straw-colored sofa I inherited from my parents, adding warmth and comfort to the room. A large Rush House rug grounds the space—one I had long admired in high-end interiors and was delighted to discover was actually within my price range. There are souvenirs from travels abroad: marble plates from Marrakesh, an Antoinette Poisson print transported from France, and a vintage runner that my parents kindly hauled back from a Christmas visit to Ohio. These are cherished possessions—collected gradually, layered with meaning and memory.
As I continue to build my personal collection of treasures, I’ve recently welcomed a few new additions from a collaboration that’s especially close to my heart. I’ve long admired the design firm Pierce & Ward, so it was an absolute thrill to be approached by West Elm to cover their latest collection from the design duo (see my interview with Emily Ward here). I’ve gotten to know the Pierce & Ward team quite well so having their pieces in my home is deeply special. The items now serve as a constant reminder of their inspiring projects, my visit to their LA store, and the moments shared with their talented, inspiring team.
Blended with my own collections, these pieces are bringing my apartment to life. Below, I’ve linked to items from their West Elm collab that are helping to shape the French-inspired, childhood-influenced evolving design of my space.
Over the next few months, I plan to dive deeper into the other pieces filling my apartment. While most of the items are vintage, I’m working on a comparison list of options—and getting more into the IKEA hacks, layout optimizations and secondhand scores that have continued to make this (shoebox) house a home.
This post is in paid partnership with West Elm — thank you for supporting Charlotte’s Web.
Xx Charlotte
I’m always fascinated by the origins and evolution of personal style especially when it comes to home. So I enjoyed this post.