It's time for a studio refresh

By Christy Johnson, founder & CEO of United Goods

I've lived in my house for eight years, and for each day of those eight years, I've loathed the look of my in-home studio. Don't get me wrong—I feel so thankful to have this space to spread out my (ahem) crap and not feel like I have to put it all away each night, like I did when my "office" was really just a desk in my apartment's living room.

A little backstory: When my husband and I moved into our house in 2017, every room was a shade of beige. Now, I have no issue with beige. But the person who renovated the house before it became ours took the "safe" route and went to town rolling khaki/beige/tan on every single wall.

Over these past eight years, we've slowly repainted each room in a color more suitable to our style, but we didn't tackle the studio until this past winter. 

When there was nothing else to do one blustery weekend, we gathered all of the furniture into the middle of the room, tossed out some drop cloths, filled existing holes and sanded them (and filled and sanded some more), and dug out all of our painting supplies. Then we hit the paint store, hauled a couple gallons home, and got to work.

The power of white paint

With its beige carpet and the equally uninspiring beige walls, the studio never felt like a space I wanted to be creative in. 

I always knew I wanted the walls to be white and nearly covered in art and personal keepsakes.

I'm a real snob when it comes to white—if it's so bright that it looks florescent, or if it's got a blue or lavender tint to it, I'm out. Those always feel to "cold" to me. We settled on a clean white with the slightest hint of warmth from Sherwin Williams. 

The painting process itself was fun. We put on a favorite mixtape-like playlist and spent two days carefully edging, rolling, and watching the room evolve with each coat. 

Never underestimate what a fresh coat of paint can do because the transformation was immediate. What was once a drab, uninspiring room suddenly felt spacious, clean, and much more "us."

Not only is it beautiful, but the neutral white backdrop also helps my creative work because the walls reflect natural light beautifully. It's nutty that even though beige is not a dark color, making the shift to white made me realize I was practically working in a cave before.

Supporting indie artists

With fresh walls came the opportunity to curate art that truly speaks to both my husband and me (since he shares the studio space avec moi). Rather than filling the office with mass-produced prints—never!—we hung the many, many pieces from independent artists we've been collecting for several years. 

The majority of our house has a minimalistic vibe, and carefully curated art dots the walls here and there. But in the studio, it was always my vision to blanket the walls with work made by independent artists, with personal mementos mixed in.

So many of these art pieces come with a story: A conversation we had with the maker in their art-fair booth, or a handmade print we found while vacationing in a magical place. These connections add layers of meaning to the artwork that factory-made "art" could never provide.

When I look at our walls now, I see not just beautiful creations but the hands that crafted them and the experiences we had at the time we bought them.

Personal mementos as art

Woven in with the work from independent artists, my husband and I interspersed personal mementos, both from our pasts and our time together.

For example, the ball I hit for my one and only homerun as a college softball player is mounted in a shadow box and hangs next to a pencil drawing of my glove that I made in art school.

Then there are the two Pinewood Derby cars my husband made as a kid with help from his dad, which are hanging gallery-style on the wall along with a mixture of 2D art we bought together.

These objects might seem ordinary to others, but to us, they're tangible reminders of some of our best memories.

The finished space

The studio now feels like a professional workspace that's also deeply personal. 

The transformation has affected my work in many ways. I find myself lingering longer in the studio, and I'm more inspired than before to keep it neat and tidy (an unexpected but appreciated bonus!).

It sounds weird, but the space feels like it breathes with me now, and expands with my creative energy instead of constraining it.

If you're feeling stuck, sometimes the simplest solution is to refresh the space where you work. Might I (highly) suggest clean white walls, art that makes you happy, and mementos that remind you of where you are and where you've been? It has worked for me!