For six years now—six!—I’ve been working from home. Like many of us, it started at the kitchen table during the shutdown. Then I graduated to a desk in the foyer, positioned right by the window so I could feel productive and romantic about it. I technically have an office upstairs, but everything about it is… inconvenient. It’s upstairs. The color is a rusty shade I no longer love. The desk drawers stick. And the chair—an antique swivel chair that looks very “editorial”—is wildly uncomfortable. Style over substance, once again.
Meanwhile, the rest of my house? Beige. Respectable. Safe. Very resale-value-forward.
And that’s when it hit me: I’ve never actually designed my home office. I’ve just… tolerated it.
I’ve also spent the last several years actively avoiding Millennial Gray. First of all, I’m Gen X, so no thank you. Second, I genuinely don’t know what my style is supposed to be. One minute I want a Parisian apartment. The next, clean modern lines. Then the seasons shift and suddenly I’m deep into seagrass, texture, and boho everything. Who am I? And why does my office look like none of these people?
While scrolling Instagram (as one does when avoiding decisive action), I came across Laura Hall of @thehexagonalhouse in Liverpool. She said something that stopped me cold: “One thing I never understood as a kid is how adults had their own houses and didn’t make them super fun and colorful… I’m an adult now, and I decided to make my childhood dream come true.”
Oof.
Would my childhood self be impressed with my beige, practical, “easy to repaint” home? I think not.
So what you’ll see in these pages is my inspiration board—the most playful, fully saturated version of me—anchored by a magenta-drenched room that made my heart race. Magenta makes me feel alive. Excited. And immediately, the adult doubts crept in: You can’t paint over the woodwork. It won’t go with the rest of the house. Is this really you?
Also included are other options—less out there than the fully saturated magenta room, but still pushing me beyond my comfort zone. Magenta shows up in confident pops, like a wink instead of a full declaration. The center image leans more neutral, but its romantic glamour—very Parisian apartment—makes my inner child absolutely swoon. And the final room is modern, bold, and anchored by dramatic lighting that feels edgy, unexpected, and definitely not my default… which is exactly why it stopped me mid-scroll.
My inner child has an opinion on all of this. You’re an adult, she reminds me. You can drive to the paint department anytime you want.
And honestly? She might be right.
“I never understood as a kid how adults had their own houses and didn’t make them super fun and colorful.”