It’s Not a Makeover, It’s a Tune-up: A Coaching Call Where Small Changes Make a Big Impact

This week’s episode is a sweet, simple reminder of how small changes can make a home feel more like you. Laurie and I began in her kitchen, at the long window seat that greets you the moment you enter from the back door. Even with its beautiful view, it felt unfinished to her—like it wasn’t yet saying, We live here. As we talked, I encouraged her to trust the instincts she already had: using her own textiles, adding a little color, choosing organic patterns, and even hanging plants to bring some life into the space. We moved through the nearby rooms too, touching on lighting challenges and the beginnings of a gallery wall. In the end, every question circled back to the same truth: her home just needed more of her, and she already knew exactly how to make that happen.

KEY TAKEAWAYS

I love when a conversation reminds me that small, thoughtful changes can transform a space just as powerfully as a full redesign. This week, I had a one-on-one call with Laurie, who recently moved into a new home and is still figuring out how to make it feel like hers. She didn’t come with a crisis—just a quiet sense that a few things felt “off.” And honestly, those are some of my favorite calls. They’re where intuition meets creativity.

Below is a deeper dive into everything we talked about, and how Laurie’s great instincts ended up guiding the whole conversation.

The “Blah” Window Seat With the Beautiful View

The first thing you see when you walk through Laurie’s main entrance (which happens to be the back door) is a wall of gorgeous, floor-to-ceiling windows looking out over the backyard and pool. Beneath them sits a long built-in window seat—part landing zone, part catch-all for tennis bags, backpacks, musical instruments, and on certain weekends, a grandbaby’s car seat.

Even when it’s clear, the window seat felt unfinished to Laurie, and I understood immediately what she meant. It’s the first thing anyone sees, but it wasn’t saying, Welcome to our home.

Since she didn’t want to rip out the built-in (totally fair), we focused on the flexible pieces: The cushion, the pillows, and the opportunity for color.

And then came my favorite moment: Laurie casually mentioned she has a degree in fiber arts. Suddenly everything clicked. She even held up a beautiful indigo shibori pillow cover she had made—and I practically cheered. If there was ever a place for her handmade textiles, this was it.

I encouraged her to mix scales (one large pattern, two smaller ones), mix colors, and maybe even bring in something unexpected—rust, yellow, pink, something to break up all the gray and white in that space. The window mullions and cabinet fronts create so many right angles that I also suggested sticking with organic, flowing patterns for the pillows.

And then she asked about curtains, but with windows that tall and a bench directly underneath, they just didn’t make sense. What did make sense?

“Why Didn’t I Think of That?” — Hanging Plants

When Laurie said, “What about hanging houseplants?” I wanted to jump through the screen.
Yes. Yes. YES.

Plants would bring life, movement, and softness to a space full of straight lines—without stealing floor space. They also make perfect sense in a spot that already feels like an indoor-outdoor moment.

We talked symmetry vs. asymmetry, matching pots vs. mixing them, and letting the collection grow over time. Even one plant would make a difference; three would make it a moment.

This alone will transform that entry view.

The Ceiling Fan, the Lighting Question, and the Case of the Missing Outlets

Next, we drifted into the adjoining kitchen and family area, where a lone ceiling fan hangs above what must once have been an eat-in kitchen table. It didn’t look wrong to me—especially in warm Texas—but if she ever wanted to swap it for something with more personality, I encouraged her to consider rattan blades or even a sleek fan without a built-in light.

Lighting was a bigger challenge. In the family room, where Laurie and her husband spend evenings, there wasn’t a single lamp because every outlet was miles from where light would actually need to go.

We dreamed up two solutions:

1. A slim console table behind the sofa or in front of the windows

Perfect for lamps, sculptures, plants, or a beloved vase. It would also define the space without adding clutter.

2. Battery-powered lamps

Yes, they exist! And while most are small, they can add pockets of warm, low light exactly where you want it. A perfect match for the round side table tucked between the chairs.

Even tiny lighting changes can shift how a room feels.

A Gallery Wall That Wants to Grow

Finally, we moved to the cozy sitting room where Laurie has been slowly building a gallery wall around a large central painting. Smaller nature-themed pieces flank it, and she has two more waiting to join the arrangement.

Her question: Are these too spread out? Is there a rule for spacing?

My answer: If it feels too spread out to you, trust that feeling.

Right now, her spacing is just on the edge of comfortable. But since she wants to add more, I encouraged her to scoot everything closer. Smaller pieces look more intentional when they’re grouped tight enough to read as one whole composition.

We also talked shapes—her room has many squares and rectangles, so it’s helpful to balance those with round elements. Luckily, she already has a round side table and round lampshades, plus a 70-year-old baby grand piano across from the gallery wall that brings all sorts of elegant curves into the space.

Trusting Yourself (The Real Theme of This Episode)

The longer we talked, the more I realized Laurie didn’t actually need direction—she needed confirmation that her instincts were good.

Because they are.

She knew she wanted color even before she knew where to put it.
She knew plants would help without knowing how.
She knew the gallery wall just felt “off,” even before she knew the fix.

Sometimes a home is new enough that our personality hasn’t soaked in yet. But the moment we start making decisions based on what we love—not what we think we should love—that’s when the home starts reflecting us back.

And for Laurie, that transformation is already starting.

Until Next Time 

-Zandra