Growing up, I spent a lot of time in Dallas. My dad is from there and I loved to visit my grandmother who lived there until she died a few years ago. I loved it so much I ended up moving there to live with her for two summers during college. Really though, I think I just loved her.
When I’d go to visit her—especially around the holidays—we would take drives around her neighborhood to see all of the crazy, massive new homes that had been built. She and my grandfather built the home where she lived in the 1950s. It was a beautiful, old home that felt like stepping into an elegant Mad Men-esque set. But all around her the neighborhood filled up with new houses, each one more extravagant than the last.
I love to look at Dallas homes online. They’re packed with on-trend design and seemingly have owners with no budgets. But this home may be my favorite. It’s inviting in a way few designers can create.
It was built in 1936 and you can feel its history even among the obvious updates. It makes me want to settle in for a cool glass of lemonade in the backyard or a cup of warm tea in the library. It feels like it should be filled with friends and family.
Which seems like it should kind of be the point of all homes, right?