How one creative is redefining luxury interiors—by designing with soul and intention
“What do you do for a living” is a question that sends me almost as much as the people who lead it with. It’s a mystery to me why we define ourselves into professions or boxes especially when it hardly matters to the legacy we leave behind as human beings. Who cares about titles or accolades when your time expires. When the last grains of sand pass through the hourglass, it’s always the endearing friendships and stories that endure. It’s the moments of definition that shape our legacy- how we treated others, how we treated ourselves, how we chose to learn our lessons in this life.
When people ask me this question I like to diffuse it with humor. I’ll respond differently on any given day. Depending on my mood the answer could be different:
What don’t I do? (Answers question with a question)
Hhmmmmmmm (long, awkward, incredulous pause)
Underwater basket weaving (drier than a dirty martini)
Architect (accurate but doesn’t cover it)
Healer (a little woo and slightly crazy by society standards)
Designer (more general and slightly mysterious because I never mention type of design)
Mom, rescue diver, Yoga teacher or Qigong instructor (all accurate)
I don’t fit neatly into a box; never have, never will. I was put on this earth to disrupt and to repair. I’m a blacksheep, a cycle breaker, and a bit of a renegade. I feel power in my past lives and I lead like I always have.
In an industry where publication and credentials hang like armor and titles determine fees, I’ve elected to keep my business separate from the cultural noise of big cities. I’ve never marketed and receive all my business through social networks and word of mouth. I do a good job, they come back and organically the right people magnetize to my studio. I’ve never worked with a client I didn’t like on a personal level and the one time I did, I regretted it. Always follow your instincts. If someone doesn’t value or appreciate your time and talent, leave.
Some might define this as professionally irresponsible or reckless but I do not. Some of us possess the ability to be responsibly irresponsible. This philosophy can permeate most platforms of life. If this characteristic were an Olympic sport, I think I could take a podium. I work hard so I can play harder.
The Unlikely Beginning
Before the Vogue covers and Forbes feature, before my documentary or television series, I was a dreamer. A rambunctious athlete from Jersey who grew up with skateboard culture and 90’s gangster rap, was perhaps a logical fit for the University of Vermont. Freshman year I left an academic scholarship in NJ, spent all of my money on a snowboard, and moved to Vermont. I had no idea if I could handle the cold or if I’d even like it, but I knew I had to get out of Jersey.
My first job after college was answering phones for Burton Snowboards. It was the absolute trenches. We made very little money and had one of the most challenging positions ever created- working customer service during the holidays. I toggled between English and French callers after learning I was the only francophone in the call center. I chose the job because the schedule allowed me to ride in the morning. Every day I rose at 4:45, drove an hour to the mountain, rode, drove back to work 12-9 and often trained in the gym afterwards to ehab injuries.
Bindings team noticed me quickly and pulled me in on a large project as a liaison to deliver the news that all of their rental equipment (already delivered to key accounts) was defective. Believe it or not, I excelled. I have a way of making people feel safe even when the conditions are not. I like to lead people into the backcountry, I like to explore the shadows, I’m good at putting water on fires and extinguishing flames energetically.
Eventually I made it to the front desk (my favorite job ever) and there I really lit up. I loved being a face of the company and meeting the higher ups organically in person without knowing any titles. Marketing picked me up shortly after during a product feedback session at an on-snow testing meeting for women’s brand. They offered me a position as a brand assistant later that week and I began my journey.
6 months into the job, Evan Rose entered the scene from The Program and set my trajectory. He got me so excited about learning everything I could. The release of the “Good Book” catalog, a biblically inspired marketing deliverable that served as the annual catalog still makes me feel like Christmas morning inside. It created stoke, and that is a quality you can’t put a price tag on especially in the snowboard industry.
I named products, I designed merchandise, built programs and initiatives, and attended lots of parties and events. While marketing was fun, it was the engineers and R&D department that really held my interest. These Jedi wizards were far more enticing to me than a pocket full of pros at a Transworld Magazine Party…though I did always enjoy watching Tjere launch 40 ft. out of a pipe at the US Open.
I eventually hit a wall with women’s brand and had a crossroads in front of me: go to the men’s side where I could be better utilized or leave marketing altogether and change lanes into product so I could study the playing field in Asia. I chose Asia. Three weeks later I was on coach flight to Hong Kong to visit my first factory. By my 25th birthday I oversaw manufacturing for a 250 million dollar business. I earned less money than my male counterpart in hardgoods despite my category being triple the size. I could barely afford paycheck to paycheck let alone saving money.
These years would ultimately shape the next 20 years of my career, though. They showed me what works and what doesn’t. They also gave me time with an incredible boss and manager, Jason Lesperance, who taught me everything I know about forming relationships and negotiating partnerships to build strong teams and happy employees. In Friench his name translates to “the hope” and I always found it fitting in a way. He was like a beacon in my career who taught me all kinds of things about social dynamics, geography, history, and managing people.
The Brooklyn Gambit
In 2010 after a hard few economic years, I was laid off. I remember how I felt when I got the email. Everything cell in my body dropped, I drove to the frozen lake and sat in silence in the frigid, January air. I cried and called my friend from sales who’d been laid off the previous season. We lamented together about the fallout of losing your blood, sweat, tears, and soul in a heartbeat. Every year the company had a history of trimming fat but I didn’t see it coming. Nevertheless the last hired is the first to go.
My vendors were frustrated and confused, Jake was pissed, and even the VP (also laid off) called and yelled at the SVP for firing me [one of the riders]. It was one of the biggest heartbreaks if not the biggest of my life. I had too much pride back then to beg, so I nursed my heart snowboarding on the West Coast while I awaited the next ship to sail.
Ironically, a broken ankle (skateboarding) and a flight to Costa Rica provided my next passage. But first I toddled around NYC on crutches visiting grad programs. I looked at Parsons, Pratt, and New York School Of Interior Design. I knew upon stepping foot onto the campus that NYSID was my place. I interviewed and they told me that while registration was already passed, if I completed my essay and application in the next week, they would take a look at me.
Me and my swollen ankle flew to Costa Rica. I sent my grad school application from the lobby of Los Suenos (Spanish for ‘the dreams’) and started the opening of my essay with a CoCo Chanel quote. I remember questioning whether I should stick to a standard essay format or let it rip. I chose to let it rip.
Seeing the dynamic nature of my background, NYSID immediately called me back and placed me on the waitlist saying there was a good shot some of the accepted students might not matriculate in the fall and to “hold tight.”
I have two gears in life, throttle and full throttle—so being on standby isn’t really in my calibration. I picked up freelance work assisting product management and development in Softgoods in the meantime back at Burton. There, I got to work closely with technical design and fit. I modeled for the team garments and tested them on snow. I learned about color, materials, and basically anything I could sop up like an Italian cleaning the sauce from a plate with bit of focaccia. I savored each bit of knowledge.
I used to listen to albums on repeat in my headphones–Tribe Called Quest, Biggie Smallz, Kanye’s Dark Twisted Fantasy, not really talking to anyone. I poured over color theory and design principles. One day, returning to my desk after interviewing for a full time position, I got the call. I was in. The next day I told HR thank you, but no thank you; I’m moving to Brooklyn.
By conventional standards going back to school and changing directions three times is rogue and unconventional logic. But I was always guided by passion and intuition. I followed the things that lit me up believing if I was going to risk failure, I might as fail doing what I love.
But i didn’t fail; I moved to Williamsburg in 2010 when Bedrod Ave was still dive bars, bodegas, and Brownstones. Soon into my studio training my color theory professor, Stefan Steil of Steilish Inc. noticed my flair for building luxurious and interesting palettes of fabrics and materials.Through months of color approvals I’d developed a mean eye and ability to mix paint and see tonality. He recommended me for an apprenticeship with him at MR Architecture and Decor working under renowned architect, David Mann.
My first project was the Lanvin menstore in Paris and Calvin Klein’s showroom. I used to exit the subway on the upper west and would step out onto Fashion Acenue pretending I was a famous runway model or a big shot designer. I would catwalk my way through the D&D melting into the beautiful things I saw. I experimented with vintage and bespoke pieces developing a sort of signature New York Parisian inspired street style as well in my fashion. It was edgy, a bit risky, yet also timeless and elegant. Always in bright lipstick just like my grandmother,, I was never interested in the ordinary. Those were the years I learned to distance myself from my emotions.
At the time I was suffering from acute PTSD. I liked disturbing things; things that make other people uncomfortable feel brave and interesting to me. I drank in the Alexander McQueen flavors I poured over at the MET. I snuck photos of his work even though it wasn’t allowed because I couldn’t forget what it was like to see his collections in person.
I sketched a LOT. Interiors, furniture, lighting, fashion. I would go to lunch for a couple hours and design half a collection.
Those years were so inspiring for me. I hung out with Brazilian DJ’s, artists, skateboarders, musicians, woodworkers, and marketing head from all over the world. I used to rub elbows with the creative director of Ralph Lauren over Bolognese and a spritz. I once met the highest paid male fashion model of all time and turned him down in a whiskey bar because I didn’t have time for one night stands. I stayed up late, watched the sunrise, and cooled the flames of my soul in fire hydrants at 2 am in in the heat of the summer.
But after a while the city rhythms began to feel more draining than igniting. I left after graduation and moved to Los Angeles to launch my first studio. My family told me I was unrealistic, that what I was trying to do was impossible. Most of my friends and classmates agreed, but a few of them got it.
A few of them saw and felt the hutzpah I had inside and they got on the train. My 10th grade Italian American history teacher called it moxie, my Irish grandfather called it piss and vinegar, and the boss of the Italian joint I worked fired me. He told me I had “Buhhwwlls” when I returned after the shift to get paid.
Call it what you want, I wasn’t put here to be palattable. I’m spicy, I’m impulsive, I’m emotional and feel things deeply, but I’m also another ingredient- strategically calculated. With absolutely everything I do. The Sales Manager of Burlington furniture once joked, if there was a zombie apocalypse and I had to pick one person to follow and survive with, it would be Jenny. I felt seen in that moment, she got me. My sales numbers sucked, but she knew I could navigate.
Expanding Globally
By 2106, I felt like the walls were closing in. I felt stifled in American society and starved for cultural spark. I was depressed and anxious and losing life force by the day. In 2018, I vowed to change everything and I moved to tiny island off the coast of Indonesia to pursue my training in Eastern Arts. It was there over a steaming plate of Nasi Goreng that I put my house on the market and sold everything three months later.
It came mostly as a survival instinct because western society wasn’t working for me. At this time in my life I focused on my spiritual side. I trained with shamans and teachers from all over Asia and I completed my basic and advanced level Yoga teacher training.
New countries meant new material palettes, different cultural relationships to space, fresh ways of understanding how people actually inhabit life. My designs shifted with the cultures I shared food with, Indians in Kuala Lumpur, Muslims in Malaysia dipping, sweet, savory roti Chanai, Israeli Jews in Singapore, and the decorated Habibiis of Dubai. I became a professional explorer.
The Emotional Architect
I depart radically from the script of what it means to be an architect. I don’t care how beautiful a space looks, what matters is how it feels. Is it comfortable, is it inviting, is it rich and balanced.
It’s an approach borrowed more from Haute Couture than Interior Design—treating each project as an extension of identity rather than a solution to spatial problems. Coco Chanel, Alexander McQueen, Valentino, and Versace are inspirations to my work alongside architects like Antoni Gaudi and Adolf Loos. My work is a mix of drama and restraint- bold yet intimate. Good lighting is key, color and materials are everything.
I don’t choose projects, they choose me. I wait for the right things to come into my path and I explore them energetically. I only enter into relationships that are mutually beneficial. I am a slave to no budget or brand. I play my career like I play poker, conservatively, with the occasional bluff and a constant air of mystery. I like to keep things misty. I am a very private and low key person behind the scenes. I always leave the table with as many chips as I started, on a good night I walk away with more.
Redefining Success
People often ask me about milestones or achievements, but to me the most important thing is freedom. “Freedom is just another word for nothing left to lose” I’ve always loved those Janis Joplin lyrics. I find that of rebellious spirit both resonant and enticing. And though I have some exciting projects on the horizon: a Sotheby’s office and developing two large fincas in Costa Rica, my sites are set on martial arts, Haute Couture, and recording music.
On the Horizon
My current trajectory involves downshifting— 4th gear to second is my goal for this year. It’s going to entail climbing some steep inclines: international collaborations extending into fashion, music, and media increase my scale but they’ll never change the intimate tone of my approach. I’m still the same girl answering phones, putting out fires, and breaking bones at the skate park. I’m still the same girl everyone thought was crazy when I launched my first brand.
Now I’ve become an artist, a healer. My role in society is to uplift and to shine light onto the possibilities of good design. I want to make design approachable and fun for the average person, not only the rich and elite.
I’m here to transform the world and the climate for women and artists one project at a time. I live a simple life and don’t care much for monetary gains or recognition. I care more about making people feel stylish, confident and safe.
The Quiet Revolution
The easy lesson I’d give aspiring designers is this: don’t ever give up and don’t let anyone tell you’re “too much” or not good enough if it’s something that lights you up inside. If people tell you you’re too much, tell them to go find less. Follow the passion and work like it’s your last moment to leave your signature on the world. Be good to people and care for yourself because in the end, no one else will. To be living is a gift and we must never lose sight of our connection to this earth and Mother Nature. Keep your heart soft in a harsh world, but be vigilant with whom you offer it to.
Access to you is a privilege, surround yourself with people who see and encourage your potential. In a world driven by botox, filler, and artificial aesthetics, age naturally with courage and vigor.
Let your hair go gray, let the lines of your face soften, and be yourself—always be yourself.
If you can’t be yourself in the company you’re in, you’re in the wrong circle. Don’t ever waste your time on someone who doesn’t acknowledge your value. Respect is defined and to some extent, demanded; so guard your space wisely and strike only when necessary. Compassion for self and others is always the answer. And when in doubt, “simplify the project, stick to the plan, and maximize your resources when opportunities present themselves.” -Jason Lesperance