If you design long enough, your eye becomes international. Certain influences follow you home — even when the suitcase stays behind. I’ve learned that design doesn’t belong to one place. It evolves through conversation, layered over time, one material at a time. Different countries have shaped the way I design today, especially when it comes to texture, proportion, authenticity, and craftsmanship — four things that matter no matter where a project is based.
South Africa taught me to make texture intentional. Woven baskets, raw clay, organic fabrics — they’re not trends. They’re expressions of history. I use that mindset when adding warmth and honesty to a space. Texture isn’t filler. It’s foundation.
From the United States I take space planning and livability — open floor plans, functional storage, kitchen layouts that actually work for daily life. Design has to support movement and habits. A home should function before it performs. Good flow can be just as luxurious as good lighting.
France pushed me toward restraint. Patina, worn stone, quiet color palettes — nothing needs to shout. I bring this into my work through subtle silhouettes, aged finishes, and soft fabrics that feel settled, not staged. French influence is ideal for clients who want timeless over trendy.
England reminded me that personality comes from layering. When I use English influence, it usually shows up through botanical fabrics, wallpaper, upholstery details, and books — small elements that build character and comfort.
Australia always pulls me back to light. Pale woods, greenery, indoor-outdoor connection. I use this influence when I need a room to breathe. It works beautifully in South Florida, where natural light is one of our strongest design tools.
Morocco offers pattern, geometry, and craftsmanship. Zellige tile, arches, brass, carved wood. When I pull Moroccan influence into a design, it’s usually through statement tilework or custom millwork. It adds intrigue without overwhelming the space — when used intentionally.
Greece taught me the strength of proportion. White plaster, gentle curves, built-in seating. Calm environments are harder to design than bold ones, because balance has to be exact. I lean on Greek influence when I want simplicity to feel tailored rather than sparse.
Italy sharpened my eye for precision. Fine marble, metalwork, leather, and custom furniture — influence from Italian design shows up in my work when high craftsmanship is the priority. It’s not about being flashy. It’s about excellence in the details.
Mexico reminds me that color can feel grounded. Cobalt blue, terracotta, hand-painted tile — materials that instantly make a room feel connected to place. I use Mexican influence when I want a space to feel tactile and genuine.
Brazil showed me how modernism can still feel warm. Curved furniture, tropical woods, organic forms. This approach is helpful when sleek design needs softness, or when minimalism should still feel approachable.
China follows discipline — symmetry, carved wood, bamboo, stillness. When I reference Chinese influence, it’s usually through balance or layout. It helps calm a large room and give it structure.
India brings layered craftsmanship — textiles, brass, carved doors, block prints. I use Indian influence when I want richness. Depth can come from materials, not just color.
What I’ve learned is that global inspiration only works when it’s edited. A room isn’t a museum. It’s a conversation between influences — and the conversation has to serve the client. The strongest interiors borrow, blend, and interpret. They use just enough history to feel meaningful, and just enough restraint to feel livable.
That’s what international design has given me: tools to interpret, not imitate. And when it all comes together, the space doesn’t feel designed to impress. It feels designed to live in — beautifully, intentionally, and with a sense of place.