dressing rooms

There’s something calming about draping soft white fabric around an unfinished space. The simple act of hanging white drapery all around the living and dining room softened the edges of the renovation’s roughness and created a serene canvas. It gave the room a breath, a pause—a space that felt both intimate and expansive.

It was a small shift, but one that helped me see the house differently. With the fabric up, the walls didn’t have to be finished. The trim could wait. What mattered was how the space felt. And it felt ready—to welcome people, to hold something beautiful, to be lived in.

A few days later, my electrician came by to install a chandelier I’d been holding onto. Its long metal arms stretch outward like branches, each strand hung with delicate glass crystals. While he stood on the ladder, I helped from below—stringing each crystal by hand, one by one. There was something grounding about the process: the weight of each strand, the sparkle as it caught the light, the slow work of turning a fixture into something that shimmered with intention.

All of it came together in preparation for a dinner I was hosting. Nothing major, more a gathering that felt right for the season and the stage the house is in. The drapery and the chandelier weren’t decor—they were gestures. Small ways of saying the space was ready.

Not finished, not perfect, but open and welcoming all the same.

-L