Best Of Design Philosophy: Podcast Highlights From 2025

As we wrapped up the year, I found myself gathering the moments from the show that moved me the most—the conversations that nudged me to think differently about home, beauty, and the way we shape our days. Revisiting these clips felt a bit like walking back through rooms I love: Olga reminding us that tiny shifts in our spaces can spark self-worth; Danielle celebrating the joyful friction of mixing styles; Bailey inviting us into that fearless creative “zone.” Then there were the makers—Francesca stirring pigments into velvety limewash, Brea and Guy rescuing centuries-old stone, and Michal weaving stories through embroidery—each one revealing the human hands and histories behind the things we live with. Sharing these voices again felt like opening a window to everything I believe about Slow Style: that beauty is both mirror and guide, and that home is an ever-evolving conversation between who we are and who we’re becoming.

KEY TAKEAWAYS

Best of 2025, Part One: A Year of Philosophy, Beauty, and the Stories Behind the Materials We Love

As we close out another year on Slow Style Home, I wanted to gather the conversations that shaped me most—those moments when a guest said something that lingered long after we stopped recording, or when they revealed a way of seeing home that felt like a small revolution. What started as a simple “round-up” quickly grew into a two-hour audio tapestry, so this episode became part one of our annual best-of: the ideas, philosophies, and materials that shaped our collective understanding of home in 2025.

Below, I’m diving deeper into each conversation—why I chose it, what stayed with me, and how it ties into our ongoing exploration of home as something deeply human, soulful, and alive.

Spatial Alchemy with Olga Naiman: Turning the Ordinary Into Gold

Olga Naiman—designer, author of Spatial Alchemy, and longtime friend of this show—reminded me once again why her work has such staying power. She talks about our homes as reflections of not just who we are, but who we are becoming.

Her idea that self-worth is the gold that alchemists speak of cracked something open for me. It’s not about perfection; it’s about noticing the places where we’ve stopped seeing ourselves—those cluttered corners or tired shelves—and making tiny, meaningful upgrades. A prettier water glass. A beautiful plant mister. A bookshelf rearranged with intention.

And here’s the magic: those small acts create an energetic shift. “When you start to make a change at home,” she says, “an unexpected door opens somewhere else.” It’s the essence of slow style—gentle refinement layered over time.

The Art of Juxtaposition with Danielle Balanis

Danielle Balanis is a maximalist in the most thoughtful, instinctive sense. She rejects style categories entirely (you know I love that) and embraces a more personal, sensorial approach to beauty.

Danielle’s rooms dance with color, pattern, and play, but what struck me most in our conversation was how she described beauty as an emotion. Something felt, not defined.

And then she gave us the line that lives rent-free in my head:
“Fire is created from friction.”

For Danielle, the magic is in the mix—the jagged with the smooth, the dark with the light, the whispers with the clamor. The individuality lies not in the items themselves, but in the how—how we layer, how we experiment, how we allow ourselves to play. Her home is her lab, and I think there’s something liberating in that for all of us.

Fearlessness & Flow with Muralist Bailey Li

Every time I speak with Bailey Li, I’m reminded that creativity is a state of being as much as a skill. She describes entering a creative “zone” where she’s not thinking about confidence, outcomes, or even other people at all—she’s simply expressing what wants to come through.

There was such honesty in her admission that she sometimes critiques a finished mural so harshly she ruins it and must start again. It’s a vulnerable look at the tug-of-war many of us have with our inner critic.

Bailey’s reminder: creativity requires letting go of what others may think.
Once you do that, something uniquely yours can surface.

Dream First, Buy Slowly: A Conversation with Natalie Papier

One of the loveliest surprises of my book tour was finally meeting designer Natalie Papier in person. Her philosophy aligns so beautifully with slow style: dream big, but build slowly. Start with the sky’s-the-limit version of the space you want—not your budget, not what you already own—and then, over time, allow pieces to find their way to you.

Natalie encourages the “high-low” approach that feels so approachable and so human. A dream object might arrive on sale six months later. Or you might stumble across something that captures the spirit of your vision for a fraction of the cost.

This is what makes a home layered, collected, and deeply personal—not rushing the process.

Small Homes, Grand Beauty with Ros Byam Shaw

Ros Byam Shaw’s newest book, Perfect English: Small and Beautiful, is a love letter to what’s possible when we embrace the scale of our homes rather than fight against it. She champions the idea that small doesn’t mean we must play small: a massive tapestry on a tiny wall can work brilliantly, and oversized light fixtures often bring a room to life.

What struck me in our conversation was how many of the homeowners she interviewed were collectors—even those in the most modest spaces. And collectors, Ros says, must also be editors. Many follow the aspirational but rarely perfect “one thing in, one thing out” rule.

She describes the joy of upgrading a collection—swapping one cherished piece for one even more beloved—an ongoing practice of refinement that feels deeply aligned with slow style.

Home as Mirror & Molder with Whitney English

Whitney English’s reflections on home stayed with me long after our conversation ended. She speaks from a place of lived experience—of growing up in a home that looked perfect but wasn’t, of raising children now with an intentionality born from that contrast.

Her line—“our homes are both mirrors and molders of our inner lives”—is one I think about often. We shape our homes, yes, but they shape us right back.

Whitney’s reminder that beauty can “catch the human heart off guard” highlights why design matters—not for perfection, but for the everyday sacredness of living well.

How Things Are Made: Rediscovering the Humanity Behind the Materials

The second half of the episode dives into one of my favorite themes on the show: understanding how the objects around us are made. Beauty becomes richer when we recognize the hands, histories, and landscapes behind it.

Limewash & Ancient Pigments with Francesca Wezel

Talking with Francesca Wezel, founder of Francesca’s Paints, is like stepping into a sun-soaked workshop somewhere in Italy. Her limewash paints—just lime, water, pigment, a touch of linseed oil—carry a velvety depth unlike anything acrylic can achieve.

She shared stories of the pigments tied to specific regions: Siena’s namesake burnt sienna, cooked in ovens; the strict Italian rules that require exteriors to be painted only with pigments native to the land; the sacred watercolor glow of buildings in Florence, Rome, and beyond.

Her color palette “The Himalayas” came from a trip to India—pink temples, turmeric dyes, monkeys in the mountains, moonlit yoga nights. Every shade in the palette carries a sensory memory.

It reminded me that color is never just color—it’s culture, geography, history.

Salvaged Stone & Centuries of Footsteps with Guy and Breda Kellner of Paris Ceramics

If you’ve ever run your hand across a centuries-old limestone floor in Europe, you know the feeling: the patina, the quiet softness, the stories whispered through wear. Guy and Breda Kellner of Paris Ceramics bring those materials back to life—literally.

Twenty to twenty-five percent of their business is reclaiming stone from old buildings in France and Spain that are about to be demolished. Massive slabs—sometimes eight or nine inches thick—are pulled out, shipped to their workshop in Virginia, cut, brushed, and restored by craftspeople who’ve been with them for decades.

I was especially taken by the story of the Spanish checkerboards once laid in the entrance halls of wealthy homes—the polished fronts and hand-chiseled backs confirming their authenticity.

And then there’s the myth-busting: natural stone is durable. It’s been in European streets for hundreds of years. A berry stain isn’t a disaster—it’s just another story of nature meeting nature.

“Stone is an extension of the natural world,” Breda said.
And I couldn’t agree more.

Embroidered Stories with Michal Silver of Christopher Farr Cloth

We ended with textiles—those soft, patterned, expressive works of art that bring warmth and soul to a room. Michal Silver’s work at Christopher Farr Cloth is a celebration of collaboration: designers, artisans, weavers, embroiderers, all folding their skills into something cohesive and deeply human.

In her recent collaboration with Veronique de Rugy (of Atelier Léon), rope-based sculptural panels were transformed into embroidered textiles. The embroidery houses in India hand-guided the stitches, adding their own interpretation—an echo of the original design but imbued with new cultural language.

The result is exuberant: cords stitched into whimsical fringes, stylized “Happy Flowers,” embroidered napkins and bedspreads that you want to run your hands across.

And then there’s the reminder that Christopher Farr isn’t only bold and colorful—Michal shared earthy, quiet neutrals by a South African designer that show the other side of their aesthetic: grounded, textural, elemental.

Why These Stories Matter

This episode is really about connection—to ourselves, to our evolving identities, to the objects we live with, and to the people who make them. Slow style isn’t just about decorating slowly; it’s about deepening our understanding of what beauty means and why it matters.

Whether it’s rearranging a bookshelf, experimenting with juxtapositions, collecting over time, learning how limestone ages, or discovering that limewash paint has been made the same way for thousands of years—each moment brings us closer to a home that feels alive, layered, and wholly our own.

Part Two is coming soon, but until then, I hope these conversations remind you to pause, notice, and savor the beauty already unfolding at home.

Until Next Time

-Zandra