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Some birthdays make you take stock. The year she turned 40, Sydney Jackson found herself looking at her life in two halves.
“I’ve worked 20 years,” she says. “This next 20 or 25 can be something completely different.” After two decades spent bringing stories to life as an editor and creative director, Jackson realized her creative interests had shifted from words and images to paint chips, fabric swatches, and vintage finds. “What can you spend hours doing and not get tired of?” she says. “I could spend all day looking for the perfect mirror.”
Rather than launch an interior design studio overnight, Jackson started with the one project she couldn’t walk away from: her own house. The 1940s Connecticut home had great bones—and but its weathered condition continually ate up her renovation budget. Insulation. Water damage. A new roof. “Every six months there would be this huge expense,” she says. “All I wanted to do was buy something pretty.”
When she was finally able to turn her attention to the first floor, the designer had no interest in replacing perfectly good finishes. Instead, she trusted her editor’s instincts: keep what worked, cut what didn’t, and make every detail earn its place.
The Cabinets Were Never the Problem
The biggest issue in the kitchen wasn’t the layout—it was the deep red cabinetry. Morning light turned the cabinets “blood red”, and by evening, the space felt like a “dark cave.” But the millwork itself was in excellent condition. After working with a Farrow & Ball color consultant, Jackson repainted the perimeter cabinetry in Drop Cloth and chose Mahogany—a rich brown with eggplant undertones—for the island. The new palette feels lighter without sacrificing warmth. More important, it finally makes the open kitchen, dining room, and living room feel cohesive. “They all have to live in the same world,” she says. Once she got the backdrop right, everything clicked.
Some Details Are Worth Obsessing Over
Because Jackson wasn’t gutting the first floor, every investment had to earn its place. In the kitchen, that meant replacing the sparkly gray granite island with Arabescato Corchia marble, swapping the microwave above the range for a custom hood, and splurging on a Perrin & Rowe faucet and DeVOL pendants. Even the cabinet hardware became an unexpected obsession. Rather than waiting years for unlacquered brass to develop a natural patina—or settling for a DIY version that “didn’t look right”—she tracked down pre-aged knobs from RLH Brass. Most visitors won’t consciously notice the difference; they’ll just assume the room has always looked that way.
If Everyone Has It, Keep Looking
Jackson isn’t interested in buying pieces that everyone recognizes. “I want it to feel like something I discovered,” she says of her favorite furnishings and fixtures. That philosophy sent her down a rabbit hole of unique vintage dining room pendants. Eventually she landed on one by Finnish designer Lisa Johansson-Pape.
She scored it at auction after a duplicate fixture drew all the competitive bidding. The same patience led to Facebook Marketplace dining chairs, estate-sale stools, and a Swedish pine coffee table she refinished. For Jackson, the search is every bit as satisfying as the find.
Trust the Yellow Chairs
Jackson settled on a palette of greens, browns, and warm neutrals before one question derailed the whole plan: Where does the yellow come in? “I was randomly really wanting yellow,” she says, an impluse that led a pair of floral lounge chairs in the living room. But the leap wasn’t introducing another color at the last minute. It was trusting her own instincts. Throughout the process, she remembers wondering, “Has somebody else done this? Is it okay to do this?” Working on her own home taught her the answer didn’t matter nearly as much as she thought. The sunny chairs weren’t just a design decision—they were proof she could trust her own eye.
Every Design Hunt Should End With a Treat
Some of the California native’s earliest design memories involve following her mother—also an interior designer—through San Francisco’s design center as a kid. The reward for patiently sitting through fabric appointments was lunch at The Cheesecake Factory or a stop at FAO Schwarz. Decades later, she finds herself recreating the ritual with her oldest daughter, Freya, who now tags along to estate sales and antique fairs before the two stop somewhere fun on the way home. “I’ve turned into my mother,” Jackson says with a laugh.
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