I don’t design for magazines

There are so many talented interior designers out there creating incredible homes, and I genuinely love seeing their work. But that's not why I started Everyday Living Interiors.

I started it for the people who think interior design isn't for them. The people with real budgets, real lives, and homes that need to work hard every day. The people who feel overwhelmed by choices, don't know where to start, or think creating a beautiful home means replacing everything they own.

Because I was one of those people.

Long before Instagram, Pinterest, and perfectly curated feeds, I devoured interior design magazines, architecture books, and every home makeover show I could find. I would spend hours admiring beautiful spaces and feeling convinced they belonged to a world I would never be able to afford. I certainly couldn't afford them. There were years when money was tight (well, it still is, if I am really honest. Did I tell you the story of how I was laid off from my corporate job after 8 years? I’ll keep it for another day.) Years when buying new furniture wasn't an option. Years when I was renting rooms, moving apartments, starting over, making do with hand-me-downs, marketplace finds, and whatever I could piece together.

(Hello, 2011. Freshly separated, living in a friend's spare room on a single salary.)

But none of that stopped me from creating a home.

No matter where I lived, I wanted a space that felt comfortable, beautiful, and safe. A place where I could rest, recover, and feel like myself after facing whatever was happening outside the front door.
So I learned how to work with what I had. I learned how to rearrange furniture instead of replacing it. How to make second-hand pieces feel intentional. How to create warmth without spending a fortune. How to prioritise the changes that would make the biggest impact.
And over time, something funny happened. Friends would visit and inevitably say things like: "I don't know how you do it, but your place always feels so nice." Or: "My house is a mess. Can you come and help me?"
If I had a euro for every time someone said that, I wouldn't be rich, but I'd certainly be able to treat myself to a decent dinner.

And that's when I realised something.

The interior design industry doesn't need another designer creating aspirational spaces for magazines. There are already plenty of incredibly talented people doing that. What it does need is more people helping everyday homeowners, renters, families, and busy humans create homes that work for their actual lives. Because good design isn't about spending more money.

It's about making thoughtful decisions.
It's about understanding how you live.
It's about recognising what already works, what doesn't, and where small changes can make a surprisingly big difference. That's where I believe I can help.

Give me a cluttered pantry that nobody can find anything in.
Give me a wardrobe that's overflowing.
Give me a living room full of furniture collected over twenty years.
Give me an office furnished entirely with hand-me-downs.
Give me your grandmother's old cabinet and your aunt's Persian rug.

That's where I thrive. Not because I don't appreciate beautiful moodboards or perfectly rendered concepts. I do. But what excites me most is helping people see potential in what they already have. Helping them spend more intentionally. Helping them create homes that feel good without chasing perfection.
My goal isn't simply to help you transform your home today. It's to give you the confidence and knowledge to make better decisions about your home for years to come.

Because beautiful, functional homes shouldn't be a luxury reserved for a few.

They should be accessible to everyone.