I Put a Disco Ball in My Window, and It Has Brought Me Great Joy

Shine bright.

Rebecca Deczynski

Published Aug 14, 2019 4:42 PM

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A post shared by ChaCha Garcia (@3chacha) on Oct 3, 2018 at 7:23am PDT

As soon as I started to notice them trickling through my Instagram feed, I felt an insatiable need. With each new image of a light-flecked—almost polka-dotted with sunbeams—interior, I became more assured that disco balls were in the middle of a comeback and I needed to acquire one immediately.

Over the course of the past year, disco balls have enjoyed a relatively niche renaissance. They’ve become a favorite photo prop for interior shots (largely of bohemian-style homes). Simply scroll through the feed of a design-driven Instagram that features an abundance of plants, macrame, and vivid patterns and chances are, in one image or another, you may also happen to see a disco ball. And more often than not, they splash a frenzy of light across the room they inhabit. I found them to be magnificent.

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Of course, this decor isn’t reserved solely for boho spaces, nor is it necessarily just a prop, and when I finally picked up a miniature disco ball at a local vintage co-op, I discovered its delights firsthand.

My bedroom is south-facing, so it gets a good amount of sunlight in the morning. Knowing this and armed with the desire to add an additional dose of whimsy to my eclectic space, I tied the disco ball (a small one, with a diameter of just seven or eight inches) to a string and tied the string to the tension rod that already held my semi-sheer white curtains, a pothos in a hanging plant holder, and a bundle of dried broom bloom.

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A post shared by Nadia (@artynads) on Nov 15, 2017 at 10:51am PST

It looked playful and aligned with the rest of my decor, but I wouldn’t be fully sold until I saw that it actually sparkled. Throughout the workweek, I left my apartment before the sun fully shined through my window and came back long after it had set. It wasn’t until a week after purchase that, on a lazy Saturday morning, I saw just what kind of magic the disco ball produced.

Light beams dotted my walls, touching my gallery wall, piles of books, and the leaves of my many houseplants. The sun, around 9:30 a.m., was in just the right position to make my small Brooklyn abode feel just a little more special, and for the two hours or so that the light remained, I nestled deeper into my bed with a good book.

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I’ve always been particular about the lighting I surround myself with: Typical overhead light is one of my greatest enemies, but I love a pink light bulb. String lights, with their soft, romantic glow, have been one of my greatest saviors since high school, and I’ll opt for a lamp over a light switch any day. Natural light, of course, is royalty, but the beams reflected by the disco ball felt different.

The moment that this singular piece of decor created in my space was something that I couldn’t create by force or machine: It was an effect that I had to wait for and appreciate while it lasted. The disco ball looked eclectically cool in my window, but it wouldn’t be until the morning light came that it really stood out—and that rarity of weather and timing made it even more special.

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For once, I let things be as they may, and my space has benefitted all the more from that. After all, when things don’t sparkle all the time, you appreciate them even more when the right forces align to give you a wondrous show of shadow and light.

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