How I Create Homes That Feel Right the Moment You Step Inside – And the Simple Rules You Can Use Too
Emotional architecture is what I think about when creating homes that just feel right, and these are the guidelines I always follow
Interior designer Jess Cooney is one of Homes & Gardens' new Editors-At-Large for By Design, sharing her thoughts on decor through her lens of soft light, vintage pieces, and a sepia-tinged palette. See the rest of her articles here.
Have you ever stepped into a home that immediately feels right? You may not be able to explain why. The ceilings aren’t higher. The furniture isn’t more expensive. The color palette isn’t doing anything obvious. And yet something shifts. Your shoulders drop. Your breath slows. You feel, almost instinctively, at ease. That’s emotional architecture at work.
At its best, interior design goes far beyond aesthetics. It shapes how we live, how we rest, how we gather – and how we recover from the outside world. A well-designed home works quietly in the background, influencing our mood and behavior in ways we often feel long before we understand them.
We respond to space before we analyze it. Clear sightlines give both the eye and the mind room to rest. Rooms that flow intuitively from one to the next reduce friction. Proportion and scale in interior design matters: furniture scaled correctly to its surroundings creates balance, while pieces that are too large or too small leave a space feeling tense or unfinished – something people get wrong more often than they realize.
We also teach our clients the value of negative space. Just as pauses give music its meaning, visual breaks give a home clarity. A well-designed interior doesn’t demand attention at every turn. Instead, it offers moments of quiet – places where nothing is trying to impress, where the eye can land and settle. Design can function as emotional regulation. Light, texture, and materiality have a profound effect on how we feel in a space. Soft, layered lighting helps calm the nervous system, while harsh or overly bright light can leave us feeling unsettled or on edge.
I notice this every time I enter a room. I instinctively adjust the lighting – lowering overhead fixtures, softening sconces – and almost immediately, the space feels calmer. Control over light is often the fastest way to shift how a room feels.
Material choices matter just as much. Linen, wool, reclaimed wood, plaster – natural materials ground a space through texture and tactility. They offer comfort without excess. Over time, they develop a patina that adds depth and grace, creating rooms that feel lived in rather than staged – spaces you can truly relax into.
As designers, we think carefully about transitions. How a home moves from public to private, from active to restful. How materials carry you through that journey from room to room. These choices aren’t decorative; they’re emotional. They shape how the home is experienced, not just how it looks. Interestingly, homes that are overly designed can feel uneasy. Too many focal points compete for attention. Trend-driven choices may feel current, but they often lack emotional longevity and can overwhelm a space. This frequently happens when each material is selected in isolation – when every element is chosen to be the 'most interesting' rather than part of a whole.
Emotional ease comes from editing. From restraint. From knowing what to leave out as much as what to include. Restraint allows a home to evolve – to collect memories, objects, and layers over time. It gives the eye room to rest as it moves through a space. And in that visual quiet, we find calm, balance, and a sense of true tranquility.
In a world that grows louder, faster, and more visually saturated by the day, the role of home has fundamentally shifted. It is no longer just a backdrop for living – it has become a refuge from it.
Emotional architecture responds to this need. It creates spaces designed to soften the noise, prioritizing feeling, longevity, and intention over excess or spectacle.
The most beautiful homes are not the ones that demand attention with drama or polish. They are the ones that invite us to exhale. To rest. To settle in. They remind us that a truly well-designed home unfolds over time, shaped by conscious choices – by what is thoughtfully added, and just as importantly, by what is left out.
