Restoring Soul to a Gutted Renovation
Brooklyn Brownstone
Location: Park Slope, Brooklyn
Scope: Full-home interior design
Timeline: 6 months
Square Footage: 3,200 sq ft
Photography: [Photographer Name]
The Challenge:
When Sarah and James bought their Park Slope brownstone, it had been completely renovated by the previous owners—stripped of all original character and painted builder-grade white throughout. Technically perfect. Emotionally empty.
They loved the bones of the house but couldn't figure out why it didn't feel like home. "It's like living in a hotel," Sarah told me. "Everything's nice, but nothing's ours."
The Approach:
We began by studying the home's original architecture—what details remained, what had been lost, what we could honor without recreating a museum. Sarah and James didn't want a period restoration. They wanted a space that acknowledged the building's history while serving their contemporary life.
Through our discovery conversations, I learned that Sarah craves spaces that feel "held"—she's drawn to rooms with definition, layers, warmth. James needs areas where he can spread out and think—he's a writer who works best surrounded by books and morning light.
The design needed to serve both temperaments: intimate and expansive, traditional and modern, layered and clear.
Brooklyn Brownstone
The Transformation:
We brought back architectural depth through strategic millwork, restored the original wood floors to their natural dark tone, and created a color palette pulled from Sarah's childhood visits to her grandmother's house in New Orleans—deep greens, warm terracotta, charcoal, brass.
The parlor floor became a series of connected but distinct spaces: a library nook for James, a velvet-draped sitting area for Sarah, a dining room that transitions from breakfast light to dinner candlelight.
Upstairs, we designed a primary suite that functions as a true sanctuary—blackout drapery, layered lighting, materials chosen for their tactile comfort rather than visual impact.
The Result:
"We've stopped calling it 'the house,'" James told me six months after move-in. "Now we just say 'home.' That shift happened so naturally we didn't even notice it until someone pointed it out. But that's exactly what Amara created—not a showpiece, just home."
