design companionship,

not interior design.

i offer presence, perspective, and real-time decision support. think of it like a personal shopper, but for spaces and sensory choices. you get me in the room with you — my eye, my instinct, my ability to see what's missing before you know it's missing.


the value isn't a floor plan.
it's access to how i think.

what that actually means:


when you walk into a space with me, i'm reading it the way a photographer reads light. the way an artist reads composition. the way someone who's stood in enough galleries—and lived enough life — reads feeling.


i see what's fighting each other. what one perfect piece could shift. where plants become architecture. when "more" is the answer and when removal is.


and then i tell you what i see. not in a report. in real time, standing next to you, saying "that's where the magic happens if we listen to it."


it's me.

photographer + creative director + curator + single mother to an 10 year-old with impeccable taste (he inherited it).


i've spent the last decade studying rooms: rental properties, private homes, galleries, the spaces people create when they're not trying to impress anyone. i know what works when constraints are real. i know what works when the goal is feeling, not looking.


i think rocker rebellion and domestic devotion aren't opposites. the most interesting people — and spaces — are the ones that hold contradictions. luxury and sustainability. comfort and edge. the wild and the tender in the same room.


design companionship
is for people who:

  • know the difference between expensive and valuable

  • want spaces that feel like them, not like a showroom

  • understand that an experience is worth infinitely more than a thing

  • are willing to pay for perspective, not just labor

  • trust their own instincts but want a second trained eye in the room

  • see their home — or rental — as an extension of their thinking, not a checklist


how it works:


you don't hire me for a project. you hire me for access. i'm there when you're making sensory decisions. i'm the person you text when you're wondering if something is brilliant or terrible (it's usually both, and i'll tell you which one matters).


the value isn't delivered at the end. it's living in every decision you make while i'm there.

philosophy:


"we refuse to sanitize our duality. we are not asking for permission.

we are taking the wall, the night, the narrative."


—t hat refusal lives in how i approach spaces. nothing apologetic.

nothing safe. just honest.

let's make this happen.
you + me.

schedule a convo