When a Room Finds Its Story

When we first started designing our guest suite at Laswell, we thought we knew exactly what it would be.

Working with our design team, we called it The Pool House. The vision was unmistakably Palm Springs—fabric headboards, warm woods, colorful textiles, and all the ingredients of a classic mid-century guest retreat.

But sitting quietly on our inspiration board from the very beginning was one piece that had nothing to do with trends.

My dad’s chair.

My father, Brian, was an amateur furniture builder in the 1970s. He made much of the furniture I grew up with, and he was the person who first introduced me to woodworking, architecture, and design. Long before I knew what “mid-century modern” meant, he was teaching me to notice the grain of walnut, admire thoughtful craftsmanship, and appreciate the satisfaction of building something with your own hands.

Today, I still have two of the chairs he built.

We always knew they would find a home at Laswell.

What we didn’t realize was that they would help define an entire room.

As the design evolved, the Pool House drifted away from being a traditional Palm Springs guest room. The fabric headboard disappeared. The architecture became more immersive. Custom wood built-ins began wrapping the room, and the cabinetry became as important as the furniture itself.

Somewhere along the way, the room stopped feeling like a collection of beautiful design ideas.

It became something personal.

By the time our designers presented the latest plans, I looked at the renderings and couldn’t help but smile.

It felt like Dad had designed the room.

Or maybe that’s not quite right.

It felt like we were creating a room he would have loved spending time in with Dave—a quiet retreat surrounded by warm wood, thoughtful details, and craftsmanship that asks you to slow down and notice.

A room that honors the person who first taught me that good design isn’t about showing off.

It’s about making something with care that will still matter years from now.

There’s one detail that makes me laugh.

During the renovation of the main house, one of the first things we celebrated was removing the old track lighting. It didn’t belong there anymore.

And somehow…

We’ve intentionally added track lighting back into the Pool House.

Because in the right place, with the right purpose, even something unexpected can feel exactly right.

Maybe that’s what restoring a home is really about.

Not recreating the past.

But carrying forward the people, ideas, and craftsmanship that made us fall in love with design in the first place.