This week, New Yorkers are celebrating, golf fans are gathering, and families are coming together for Father's Day. It reminded me of something we often overlook: the moments we remember most are rarely about the event itself—they're about who we shared it with.
Being a New Yorker feels especially meaningful right now. The Knicks have given New Yorkers something to celebrate, and this week we also have the US Open happening right in Southampton.
Seeing the watch parties these past weeks in the streets of East Hampton and much, much, much bigger crowds in the streets of Manhattan for the Nicks has been incredibly moving for me. It takes me back to the shared joy of the 70, 000 fans at Metlife when I saw the Era’s Tour with my daughter. It’s a kind of elation I really can’t put into words.
Now, I’m seeing the town I live in on national TV, the beauty of the environment here and the history of this place and of golf here has us all feeling excited and lucky to live here (except for the ungodly traffic that makes a drive three times longer than it normally would.) The energy of the people here and the culmination of it all on Father’s Day has me thinking about one thing that ties all of these events together and that’s connection.
Connection is the real reason we love sporting events so much.
We experience the emotion together, the suspense, the awe of “how did that just happen?”, the disappointment, and the joy. The connection multiplies our individual emotion immensely and the collective energy changes.
Do you remember every shot, every play, or every statistic? Or, is it where you were, who was sitting beside you, how you laughed, cried, and told the story afterward?
It’s the same with holidays, like Father’s Day. The tradition in my house is just letting dad watch the Open in peace, then having dinner together. This year marks the third time the US Open has taken place at Shinnecock since I’ve lived in Southampton and it feels special this year. With everyone so busy, the moments when we come together and see the commentators with the beauty of Southampton as the backdrop, I have so much gratitude.
That’s what gathering does. When we connect with one another our experience is enriched. It’s not just the event we’re watching. The connection is what it’s really about.
What This Has To Do With Home
Why am I sharing these thoughts with you?
As a designer, I've come to believe that most people aren't really investing in beautiful homes because they want beautiful homes.
They're investing because they want a better life inside them. Every single client I work with wants their home to feel better than it does or to build something that feels good to live in.
The most successful rooms aren't the most photographed.
They're the most lived in.
They're the dining tables where conversations linger, the patios where morning coffee becomes a ritual, and the family rooms where everyone gathers to watch the game.
Today more than ever, it’s important to have a space for connection and reflection. We have amazing modern conveniences, yet the statistics point to increased disconnection from one another, from nature, and even ourselves. Your home will either support connection or quietly work against it.
Ask yourself: Is your home designed for appearances, or is it designed for living?
Do you have a room without a distraction to relax and rejuvenate in?
If you want connection to nature, your loved ones, and the person you really are, there are choices you can make in your home that support that. Natural materials like wood, stone, and as much as I love performance fabrics for durability, organic fabrics especially for sleeping help are connected to nature.
Natural materials connect us to the world outside our walls. Linen, cotton, wood, stone—these materials bring a sensory richness that synthetic alternatives rarely can.
Walking barefoot on a solid oak floor feels grounding.
Having a kitchen island or dining table large enough and with enough space around it to gather and have conversation allows you to create memories to last a lifetime.
Some of my favorite memories happen outdoors.
Summer evenings around a dining table. Conversations that stretch long after sunset. The sound of crickets in the background.
Good design makes space for those moments.
This weekend, New Yorkers will celebrate. Golf fans will walk the fairways of Shinnecock. Families will gather for Father's Day. And while the occasions may be different, what they offer is remarkably similar: An opportunity to be together.
Long after the trophy is lifted, the final putt is made, or Father's Day has passed, what remains are the moments we shared. I think that's the real purpose of home. Not simply to shelter us, but to create a place where those moments can happen.