In 2008, my friend and fellow blogger and designer Joni from the beloved Cote de Texas contributed this insightful post to The Inspired Room. It’s with deep sadness that I share she passed away unexpectedly in October 2023. Her absence is profoundly felt by family, friends, and the design community.
Although some original photos from the post are no longer available, Joni’s advice remains timeless. I’m republishing her words here for friends, family, and readers who admired her work. I’ve added a photo of one of her gorgeous kitchens at the top of this post as a tribute.
On a personal note, Joni and I stayed in touch until recent weeks. We first connected over a post I wrote about Magazine Cover-itis — a trait she readily admitted to as well, and we laughed about it many times. I was honored when a respected designer took the time to comment on my blog; that was the kind of thoughtful, genuine person she was.
Over the years she would message me about my home or recall design details she loved from past posts. I treasured that she noticed and took the time to say so. Recently she told me on Instagram that she saw many similarities in our design tastes, and she felt like we were kindred spirits in how we appreciate design. The feeling was mutual — I admired her homes and her keen eye.
Though we were different in many ways, she found common ground and used it to connect — a rare and generous quality. I’m grateful she became my friend, and I will truly miss her.
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Below is the post Joni wrote for The Inspired Room in 2008
Ever since I was a young girl, I’ve been fascinated by interior design. My older cousin brought me design magazines when I was seven, and from then on I collected images and ideas. I can’t explain exactly where the love came from — it simply felt natural and constant. When I was eight, my parents built a custom home, and I took part in designing my bedroom: I chose a lilac sink and a lilac accent wall. Back then, a trip to a furniture store with my mother was pure joy.
For a time I thought I would be an architect, drawing endless floor plans for my dream home. I remember a house I saw in a magazine, built by DuPont somewhere in Delaware, with a long center hall and rooms flowing off it. That layout captured me for years and influenced many of my sketches. Today I still appreciate center halls, although I don’t live in one.
My idea of a dream home has evolved and broadened. I love many architectural styles and find it hard to choose just one. A French chateau with rooms enfilade, a Spanish mission with white stucco and black iron fixtures, a cozy Cape Cod with dormers, a Texas Hill Country house of limestone and tin roof, or an English country home with layered additions — each has its own appeal. I find beauty across styles and enjoy the variety.
Choosing a favorite furniture style is easier: I’m drawn to old French pieces, but I also adore antique Swedish painted furniture with its worn gray surfaces, the richly carved character of old Spanish pieces, and the charm of oriental chinoiserie to enliven a room. English furniture — upholstered and slipcovered — can make a room feel warm and inviting. Ultimately, I love great design wherever it comes from.
I’m unsettled in a poorly designed room. My mind begins to edit and reconfigure the space. By contrast, a genuinely beautiful room exhilarates me. My eye moves around the space, and I’m filled with curiosity: who designed it, where were these pieces found, is the fabric antique or reproduction? A beautifully composed room creates a rush of pleasure and desire — the wish to live there, to understand its story.
What makes a room beautiful to me? Thoughtful furniture placement is essential — chairs should converse with the sofa and the room should feel balanced. Fresh, clean paint and attention to small details — like washed light-switch plates and door handles — matter. Soft lighting from lamps and sconces creates atmosphere; overhead lighting should be minimal if possible. Area rugs should anchor seating groups, and natural fiber rugs like seagrass can be an elegant choice in formal spaces. Fabrics should be natural — cotton, linen, or silk. Art should be hung at eye level and relate to surrounding furniture rather than floating too high above a sofa. Mirrors, especially with aged glass, can replace artwork beautifully. Shelves should be curated, not cluttered. Drapery adds warmth and finish. A simple vase of flowers or a lit candle completes the scene. Together, these details create a room that feels intentionally beautiful, regardless of style.
When I work with clients, it can be tempting to impose my own tastes, but the best collaborations happen when clients appreciate good design and need guidance to bring it together. Those projects are a joy — shopping and installing pieces with a like-minded client is a dream job. I remember one installation where everything aligned perfectly: the wall color, the linens, the chintz, the new seagrass rug, an antique mirror’s glint, the curve of chair legs, even the porcelain’s glaze. The room’s harmony moved me to tears — not out of sadness, but from the sheer delight in witnessing beauty come together.