Hi Merie, thank you for letting us peek into your world! Your apartment radiates so much character and warmth. How did you find this space, and what was the process of turning it into your home?
Our home started out as a piano factory at the turn of the century and was later converted into condominiums. When we moved in, it had that familiar new-build sterility, the kind of space designed to please everyone and therefore belonging to no one. Most of the original loft details had been stripped away, but we were lucky to inherit the factory windows, twelve-foot ceilings, and an original column that still carries the building’s history. From there, I started from scratch, rebuilding something that felt like us and restoring a sense of lived-in charm. Funny enough, that began by removing the ready-made kitchen cabinets and introducing more honest materials throughout. The home has gone through many incarnations, as homes do, with a series of experiments, small evolutions, and moments of trial and error but over time, it has become something deeply personal.
We’re big fans of Brooklyn ourselves. What is it about living here that makes it feel so special to you?
Brooklyn holds a special place in my heart. I was born and raised here, and it has always been a lively borough. There’s an independent spirit that shapes the people who call it home. Along with a rare resilience, Brooklyn has a vibrant mix of communities and cultures that makes it unlike anywhere else.
Every corner of your home seems to tell a story - with textiles, art, books, and those irresistible little treasures. Where do you discover these gems? Are they hunted down or do they find you?
Storytelling guides everything I do, whether styling interiors or exploring other creative projects. In our home, I aim to craft narratives, create moments, and layer them so that each one unfolds naturally when you take the time to notice. I approach every project with the ethos of creating spaces that reflect the individuality of the people who inhabit them rather than following a one-size-fits-all vision. Some treasures I seek out, and others find me, but each contributes to a personal story that feels alive and invites discovery in every corner. I visit thrift stores and flea markets whenever I can because they are my weaknesses. I think of it like a lottery scratch-off ticket. You never know when you will win, but you keep playing for the little rush of “what if” and the thrill of finding something unforgettable.
Your use of colour feels very joyful. Do you plan it, or is it more instinctive?
I’m happy it comes across that way. I painted my walls all white so that any color I bring in has its own place to rest. Color is partly instinctive for me and partly intentional. I’ve always admired how galleries position artwork with such care, allowing each piece to hold its own. My home works in a similar way. Every shade, texture, and tone is chosen thoughtfully, then given the space to breathe against a calm backdrop.
If you had to choose three objects in your home that mean the most to you, which would they be - and why?
Phoenix’s Art: has always amazed me. The pieces she has created, whether at school or at home, include models, sculptures, and paintings, and I love her eye. One particular artwork was even sold at a gallery. I was so proud of her, and she was even prouder of herself. Her creations are more than just art.They teach her to take pride in her work, and seeing them on display reminds me of her growth and the joy of watching her confidence bloom.
Noguchi lamp: We visited the Noguchi Museum for the first time on my 30th, and my husband surprised me by buying me the Akari 15A ceiling lamp, a beautiful reminder of that milestone.
String Shelves: designed by architects Kajsa and Nisse Strinning, are vessels that hold all the things that bring us freedom, possibility, and pertinence.
Does your home change with the seasons? Do you rearrange things, add pieces, or create different moods throughout the year?
I think of a home as a kind of journal, a place for reflection, memories, and even a little therapy. Mine does not change in any obvious “seasonal décor” way. I do not chase trends or color-of-the-year tactics because that always feels wasteful and unsustainable. You will not find a red poinsettia at Christmas or holiday-themed throw pillows. The changes happen in smaller, understated ways. Mostly, things stay the same, though I might move something around or swap a piece depending on my mood.
When it comes to what lives in our home, I have a deep appreciation for the work of artisans and the processes that bring each piece to life, so I make a point of keeping these objects in view. I also collect books, letting them reflect my current interests and moods. In that sense, I suppose I am a bibliophile of moods. Our books serve as markers for our family, showing what captures our attention and curiosity at any given moment. Our home evolves naturally, guided by intuition and I like it that way.
When friends or family visit, what’s the one thing in your home that always sparks conversation?
When friends or family visit, it is almost always the Flos Parenthesis light designed by Achille Castiglioni and Pio Manzù that sparks conversation. People are drawn to it immediately because it defies expectations of a floor lamp and never fails to surprise. The lamp has a singular presence that makes people pause and ask questions. It is a myth buster that challenges assumptions in the room, and I love watching their reactions.
If budget, space, and logistics were no object, what would you add to your home tomorrow?
If budget, space, and logistics were no object, I would start with our bathroom. With a shower on one side and a bathtub on the other, I find myself mentally renovating it every day. As someone who treats spatial planning as a throughline in my work, losing even ten square feet that could make a drastic difference feels almost criminal, so a smaller, more functional bathroom would make my heart sing. Someday, I’ll renovate it to carve out a niche for a dining table, but for now, just imagining the shift in flow and possibility is thrilling.
We all have those practical things that we don’t exactly love but can’t live without. What’s yours?
For me, it’s my vacuum cleaner. Not exactly beautiful, but absolutely indispensable. I’ve had it for nearly ten years, and it has never let me down, which is why we have a complicated love/hate relationship.
Has there ever been a ‘happy accident’ in your home - something unplanned that turned out to be brilliant?
I’m usually a planner to a fault, though I like to experiment, and this one went off script. I decided to add moulding to a wall in our living room but changed my mind halfway through. By the time I had spackled all the holes, the sunlight was merciless, revealing every imperfection. In a brief lapse of judgment, I tried DIY concrete plaster, which, unsurprisingly, was a costly mistake. The grey absorbed all the natural light, and the space felt lifeless. Color has an undeniable power. I began to feel dissonance in the space. The wall is now back to white, calm and clean, but the real surprise is that the ordeal led me to reconfigure our bookcase, an unplanned change that became the pièce de résistance of the room. Through the process, I gained a clearer sense of what I like and dislike in my space, along with a deeper appreciation for the moods color can create.
What do you hope your children will remember about this home when they’re older?
It’s often said that, no matter what life demands, the home shapes character and guides the course of our days. For them, this was a first canvas, a place to learn, to explore, and to become whoever they wanted to be, where friends were always welcome to join in. I hope they carry with them the freedom, curiosity, and joy this home has given, wherever life takes them.
Thank you so much, Merie!
Merie Subryan is an interior Stylist, Creative Consultant & Writer, based in Brooklyn.
You can find her on Instagram and via her website.
Product features: Half and Half Blue Beanie Hat, Freya Cup and Mermaid Cushion