Flipping through old photo albums with a friend the other day—classic college nostalgia—left me both amused and a little horrified by my grade school, dorm and first-apartment decor. My style choices from those years are cringe-worthy, and I’m willing to bet they’ll make you laugh (or recoil). People often assume I’m the obsessive-tidiness type, but honestly, I folded my underwear just like everyone else: not always neatly. Ready for a blast from the past? Here’s my eighth-grade bedroom in all its glory.
You’ll have to ignore the high-waisted airbrushed jeans (yes, one cheek had a winking eye, the other an open eye), the tie-dyed shirt and the scrunchie. No defense there—those jeans were custom-made “down the shore,” and I thought they were the height of cool. Despite the fashion missteps, the room itself says a lot about me. I’d always wanted to be an artist, so I painted clouds on my closet doors and chose an unexpected trim color instead of crisp white. In hindsight, those choices seem like the first hints of my ongoing love affair with paint.
Most of those DIY projects happened when my mom worked late; she would come home to my latest masterpieces and do a valiant job pretending she was proud. I’d grade her a solid C+ for that performance. The painted trim and closet doors were early signs that I’d continue to use paint in my spaces. And the beanbag and stuffed-animal hammock? I still love cozy floor pillows and hammocks as an adult, so clearly some habits stick. There was also a baby seal poster on the wall—no, not the singer—so maybe that soft spot for quirky animal decor nudged me toward collecting white ceramic animals later on.
Fast-forward to freshman year at FIT in New York City. I’m proud of my art school background, but my dorm room looked like a typical student mash-up rather than a curated space. Behind the posters—one of which featured Eminem, yes really, and I even labeled photos “room #1” in pen—you can spot more inventive attempts at decor. I sewed a blanket from saved-up old jeans and used a fish-patterned shower curtain as a wall mural. At the time I thought hanging a shower curtain on the wall was genius; I still think it could have worked if treated like a full-scale installation. I also created a faux crown molding effect using free postcards I’d found around the city—an odd but creative solution that foreshadowed later, more sophisticated projects.
One positive takeaway from those years was my habit of repurposing items. That tendency grew into a consistent practice of finding new life for old things, which continues today. When I moved into my first solo apartment in Brooklyn at age twenty, repurposing became a design philosophy. My denim blanket transformed into throw pillows when I upgraded to a proper duvet, and a pink satin camisole turned into a small lumbar pillow that looked surprisingly stylish up close. I made hanging heart decorations for the window by coloring wax paper with crayons and baking it for a stained-glass effect—cheap, handmade charm that still makes me smile.
My art from that era could be a bit dark—think moody still lifes—but time has lightened my palette while my love of making things has never faded. I still create frequently, whether it’s small craft projects or larger-scale DIY home updates. Patterns from my past keep resurfacing: an experimental approach to materials, a knack for repurposing, and a willingness to embrace the imperfect and handmade. Those early, awkward choices helped shape a creative sensibility that’s still at play in how I decorate today.
So what’s the final verdict? Are you suitably amused or slightly grossed out? Still fixated on the airbrushed jeans? Me too. If you expected my dorm room to be preppy, whitewashed and pristine, think again. Instead, it was eclectic, inventive and a little chaotic—much like the beginnings of anyone finding their own design voice. What about your old rooms—do you see recurring themes that appear in your current home? Did anyone else have a baby seal poster hanging on their wall? I’d love to hear about the trends from your past that stuck around.