Can you live in a small home forever?
Why I never want to leave this little cottage, 15 things you can do with a small space, how to create a beautiful vignette and (randomly) the best concealer
MA’AM, THIS IS A SMALL HOUSE
But, really, do we need a bigger one?
It probably wasn’t the most appropriate thing to say, but it’s what came out of my mouth when I walked into the foyer of a $37.5 million home here in Dallas.
“Wow, my entire house could fit inside this room… multiple times?”
I was covering the home for the local paper and had been invited to see the more than 20,000-square-foot property while it was under construction. Naturally, understandably, I was struck by the size of it. Thankfully, graciously, the homeowner didn’t bat an eye when I made an awkward comparison between her home and mine. The tour went on. I stepped in adhesive on the floor and got plaster on my dress from shimmying up a curved, narrow staircase. That was that.
Contentedly, happily, I drove myself back to my sweet, 1,200-square-foot cottage and settled back into my much smaller life.
It was around the same time I was writing that story that our air conditioning went out and a technician came to explain possible solutions. He said to me, “Well, ma’am, this is a small house, so…” I forget the rest. It didn’t matter because I was annoyed.
As far as we were concerned, our cottage was a palace. We’d been living in tiny apartments and dreaming of having a home and we were (are) oh so proud of it.
And this guy, this guy, had the audacity to say it was small.
Of course, he was right. My house was about average in size when it was built more than 85 years ago but is less than half the size of new homes that are built today. So, sure, it’s small—but I love it. It’s the house I dreamed of for many, many years.
It didn’t take long for me to start wondering whether we needed more space. It started with a silly conversation: I want to get another dog. (My dog needs a dog.) José thinks the house is too small for two dogs. Fair enough. Neither one of us questioned that we’d need a bigger house, eventually. It’s the story you hear time and time again: Buy a starter home until you can make more money or accrue enough equity to upgrade.
There’s such a rush to get a bigger, better house. It’s the pull of consumerism. (Isn’t everything?) Having more is so built into the narrative of how our lives grow and how life progresses that we don’t even question it. Bigger house, fancier car, better clothes, more success, etc. It’s hard, if not impossible, to escape the pull toward “more is more.”
But when the weather cooled off just slightly a few weeks ago, I started going on my neighborhood walks again. Fred and Julie, the neighbors on the next street over, would greet Les and me and we’d talk about the weather. I’d come home to see the jasmine I planted climbing up the porch columns and the massive oak tree we’ve carefully tended to. I’d walk through the front door, the original door and see my cozy, happy, imperfect rooms. And I felt at ease and thought, “I don’t ever want to leave.”
I started feeling a little frantic about it, about one day leaving this house. I’d long accepted that we’d eventually move, whenever that happened and I felt a sense of grief. It shifted my perspective. Now, I walk around the house assessing it for ways we can improve its efficiency and thereby increase its longevity. Could we convert closets, add storage, or be smarter about furniture decisions? Of course. Would it make us stay longer? I don’t know.
It all comes down to perspective (of course). When people move to big cities like New York, London or Paris, most don’t expect to live in sprawling homes with vast rooms. The location requires a sacrifice of square footage and it’s a price they’re willing to pay. It’s part of the charm of where they live, a conscious decision to shape their life in a specific way.
People make do when they have to make do and we’re all better for it. It’s wonderful when life comes down to choices — big or small, stay or go, city or country, etc. — because those decisions give life a more unique shape.
You can’t have the best of both worlds. You can have one world comprised of the choices you’ve made. Small house, big city. Big house, small town. Old house, uneven floors and doors that won’t close properly. New house, doors that close and shiny new finishes.
If only we could see how limitations serve us. They don’t always mean that something is lacking, wrong, or needs to be fixed and improved.
I’m not trying to call out what’s wrong with the world, that we’re all overrun by consumerism and a constant, deeply embedded desire to have more and that we should feel guilty about it. I’m trying to point out what’s right with the world: Every choice shapes your life and that’s what makes it beautiful. It’s a story that gets more complex, more honest and more interesting as time goes on.
Here’s the conclusion I’ve come to about our tiny, imperfect, charming house: I want to live here as long as I can. And, by gosh, I will paint the rooms bright colors and personalize the finishes and thoughtfully curate furniture just for these spaces, even if we won’t be here forever and a real estate agent will make me repaint the walls when we try to sell. We will pile stuff in closets or reduce the volume of unnecessary possessions to make room, whenever the time comes and we need it.
This home is so a part of who I am, a reflection of the life that we’ve created together. I love what it says about us.
CAN YOU LIVE IN A SMALL HOUSE LONG TERM?
15 things you can do with a small space
There are plenty of things you can do with a small space that you wouldn’t (or couldn’t) do somewhere else. Here’s my running list of ideas and projects.
Turn a closet into an office and add some cozy lighting.
Put a desk at the foot of the bed and make it a multi-functional room.
Have a dining room that doubles as a library.
Convert a guest room into a secondary living space (office, den, living room) that just happens to have a bed, so you can use it more often than just when guests visit.
Use every room in your house instead of having unused “good” rooms.
Buy the furniture you love and use it all the time, since you don’t have enough space to fill your home with things you don’t really like.
Turn a hallway into a gallery.
If you have no backyard or front porch, you can pretend like it’s a Parisian terrace or your front porch could be as glamorous as a New York brownstone stoop.
You can use color more generously because you’ll have fewer options (and fewer walls to paint).
You can make the kitchen like an artist’s studio and fill it with art since it’s one of the multifunctional spaces in your home.
You’ll have to be more thoughtful about what you bring in since you have less space and that’s a good thing! It’s not about lack or deprivation. It’s about care.
You can stop worrying about the TV being unsightly and just accept that it will be there, out in the open, because you have one living room and your house is meant to be lived in not to be photographed.
You can put functional things on display: dishes, books, art supplies, bowls of fruits pots of herbs.
You can have bunk beds! And trundle beds! And Murphy beds! And invest in a really great couch that’s comfortable enough to sleep on!
And maybe, just maybe, you can have two dogs. As long as you promise to walk them every day.
ALL SORTS OF VIGNETTES
The prettiest small spaces with impactful design
Most small-space design focuses on organization, storage and utility. I am more interested in the ways that creative people curate beautiful vignettes to make something beautiful out of a small space. A vignette is simply a grouping of objects. It could be a group atop a table, desk, bookshelf, countertop, or even within a small tray.
Anyone can create a vignette and, really, it doesn’t take much to do so. Vignettes are largely comprised of objects collected over time, some silly and others serious, displayed together. They’re incredibly personal, charming and usually pretty quirky.
This space in the home of the late interior designer Keith Irvine, is all red and green goodness. The wallpaper behind the vignette certainly adds to the vision, but what I like most is the uncluttered clutterdness of it all. There are lots of little objects atop the piece of furniture, but they seem functional and purposeful. I especially love the grouping of like items — the dog statues, which I believe are Staffordshire dogs — that act as a focal point. Plus, the addition of flowers in the corner makes the space look like it’s alive. It’s not a neglected scene of clutter, but a space where someone engages regularly (at least to replace the water in the vase).
I have shared Rebecca de Ravenel’s home before — specifically, this feature of her Los Angeles home — and love the collected, coastal look of many of the spaces. (Please note this perfect skirted bedside table.) This desk vignette (also, the placement of the desk) is a good example. I like how she uses the little lamps to create symmetry, but everything else is otherwise clustered in an organic way. The only question I have is whether or not the Gerrit Rietveld chair is comfortable. Apparently, according to the experts, it is.
And vignettes aren’t reserved for bedside tables and living rooms. You could create one on a high shelf in the kitchen (above) or in an alcove (below).
And for further reading: This story about the home of Graydon Carter — former editor of Vanity Fair and co-founder of Spy magazine and, later, creator of Air Mail — in the Dakota Building in New York is full of perfect examples, not to mention the nostalgic 90s-style family photo. My favorite picture is the one of the toile-covered banquette seats at the kitchen table.
3 formulas to create a beautiful vignette
Alright, so how to create one? Try it first with things you have at home. The point is to make a space that showcases a collection you’ve built over time. So, don’t go out and buy a bunch of new things to display. That defeats the purpose and you won’t know what to shop for.
Try these formulas instead:
Stack of books + sculptural object + lamp + tray or catch-all dish
Scroll back up to that image of Rebecca de Ravenel’s bedroom and look at the desk. You’ll see all of the elements there (plus a few more).
A cluster of photos + a big vase (or a lamp) + a weird trinket
That vignette in Keith Irvine’s house above follows this formula and then some. But there’s something compelling about a grouping of photos. I especially love it when people take frames and lean them against a wall instead of mounting them and put more frames in front of them. (Here are some more examples of photo-centric vignettes.)
A large group of similar items + a small space (tray, shelf, etc.)
If you have a collection of items, group them together in a defined space. You don’t have to use anything fancy for this one. If you’re a skin-care fanatic, find a colorful tray (this one comes in tons of colors) and display all of your skincare and beauty products. If you really like vintage or colorful glassware, display them on the kitchen counter or on a dresser or bar cart instead of storing them in a cabinet.
Here’s a little shelf in my guest bathroom that’s overfilled with my collection of vintage and antique perfume bottles.
GOOD CHOICE: A NEW CONCEALER
Tower 28’s new concealer is great for my sensitive skin
My friends, never in my life did I think I could become a person who recommends makeup. I have temperamental skin that reacts to almost everything and it’s near impossible for me to find products that do not cause some kind of adverse reaction.
On a whim, I tried Tower 28’s new concealer. I’ve had success with their lip and cheek tints and they market their products as safe for sensitive skin, so it seemed worth a try. Suffice it to say: I love it. I wear shade 2 (there are 20). It only takes the tiniest bit to brighten up my eyes and conceal some lingering pigmentation spots. Big fan.
NEXT WEEK
It’s autumn, now.
It’s nearly (officially) fall. Next week, we’ll talk about seasonal decor, fall bucket lists and all the wonderful things about the season. Plus, I’ll share the ultimate fall candle. There is no other to compare.
All the best,
Mary Grace