The Fine Line Between Thoughtful Decor and a Clinical Waiting Room

I strive for elegance. Clean lines, neutral tones, carefully curated objects placed with purpose. And yet, I find myself haunted by an unexpected realization: my home may have crossed into the dreaded realm of waiting room chic.

The signs are all there. The pristine white walls. The single potted plant in the corner. The seating—tasteful, yet undeniably arranged in a way that suggests patients will be seen shortly. A sleek yet joyless coffee table with exactly one book placed on it, purely for visual effect. Am I, despite my best efforts, living in a space designed for hushed whispers and outdated magazines? I adjust a painting, angle a chair slightly, but the feeling persists. Perhaps, I muse, true refinement is knowing when to embrace a little chaos. But not too much. I’m not an animal.