@eyeswoonAug 31, 2026 · 1:29 · original sound
My FIRST apartment in New York City. Just over 30 years ago, I lived here. Less than 300 square feet and, if memory serves, less than $700 a month. It was tiny by almost every measure, but at the time, it felt like an enormous leap. The first place that was entirely mine. A little corner of New York where I was discovering a new city, discovering myself, and slowly learning what independence felt like. It was here that the meaning of HOME began to take shape. Though I didn’t know it at the time, that vintage sofa was somehow foundational—a little clue from 1995 in a scavenger hunt I didn’t yet know I was on, eventually leading me toward a life in home and design. It was here that I began to take risks. To shed the skin of a very naive, sheltered girl. Hungry with curiosity. Welcoming newness, culture, the unknown. And definitely a touch of rebellion. A little lost and a lotta excitement. No idea where I was headed. Just this feeling that there was so much more out there for me to discover. Tell me, what do you remember about your first place? What did it mean to you?
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