Builder Greige: The Loss of At-Home Personality and the Sanitization of Design

A new home should be a celebration — celebration of accomplishment, celebration of self. This is the moment you no longer have to conform to a rental lease agreement's no-damage policy out of fear of a life savings loss. This is a moment whereby customization does not come in the form of removable wallpaper or no-hole picture hangers. So why is it, when the time comes to pick a home — or one step further, build a home from scratch — do the choices seem to revolve around a soulless vortex of grey, white, greige, and black?

A quick Google search of "vintage tile" and your screen is populated with color and texture. Hand-painted tiles that are bright and vibrant — they make a statement and share a sentiment. Today, we shop for tile and the colors are bland and washed out. Even more, the appetite for anything with a personality or statement seems to have dried up. Whether it's the instagramification put upon our everyday lives or this overarching fear of misstep or being canceled, our homes no longer have soul. Our built home is now as washed out and devoid of personality as the one we curate for the internet — perfect, intentional, glamorous, and without a doubt not a single erroneous opinion.

This has never been more apparent than looking at a builder grade spec. Whether the home is being flipped or offered for customization — the floors are dark grey "wood tile," the cabinets are white if you're lucky and light grey if you're not, the countertops are veined white quartz, the walls greige, the fixtures black, the hardware black, the soul black. Even taking a look within the offerings, it's like looking at purgatory.

Kitchen wide shot — Everything. And nothing.

Bedroom — The blank canvas problem. Four walls, great bones, greige paint, and a whole lot of "it's

Freestanding tub — Beautiful tub. Greige walls. The soul is somewhere in transit.

Vanity with chevron tile — White cabinets. Black fixtures. Chevron tile doing its best.

Powder room — The powder room actually committed to something. Dark grey is still grey, but at least

Quartzite island closeup — This countertop has veins, movement, drama. It has an opinion.

Fireplace — And then there's this. One room that decided to show up.

To take this one step further, furniture choices are looking just as bleak. The same way the fashion industry was arguably ruined by trend forecasting agencies, this same idea of getting it right and selling what everyone else sells to be "on trend" has taken over mass market home furnishings. Gone are the days where each retailer has a different look and feel. Now everyone offers pieces of furniture with a scalloped edge or cane backing. Everyone's wood tones are nearly identical and the form has the same, same-but-different feel for each piece. The individuality of furniture design, like home design, has washed away with the homogenization of the home market.

What can be said for what is left is backbreakingly supported by the love of a tchotchke.

So where does that leave us? Walking into the Rancharrah Villa for the first time, it had everything and absolutely nothing at the same time. It was "nice" — but it left a huge void. That moment you clap your hands together and say "yes, I love it!!" just doesn't happen. You say "it's nice." That's what you say when your spouse changes their clothes and you fear giving an honest opinion. It's nice.

And this is where the work begins. As a designer, we have to help our clients systematically dismantle this fear of getting it wrong. Of taking that chance and making a statement. I am by no means advocating for painting your whole home pink (or am I?). Even if I objectively find something tasteless, if time and thought were given to making that statement, differences are beautiful. Having an opinion is beautiful. Taking the chance to build something that reflects your spirit, even at the expense of turning someone off, is beautiful.

When we view art we are told constantly how beauty is in the eye of the beholder — why is this mentality not applied to our homes, the canvas; and its contents, the paint; and its vibe, the beauty.

If you're staring at your own blank canvas and don't know where to start, this is exactly the kind of project we love.