ByLindsey Mather,Photography byClaire Weiss
PublishedMar 8, 2025 6:02 AM EST
Full disclosure: we might pocket a few coins if you click and buy stuff on this page. We're not above a little side hustle.
Domino Reno: Glowing Transformations, Questionable DIYs, and Wisdom From People Who Actually Know Stuff
Do yourself a favor—subscribe and let the newsletter come to you.
By signing up, you swear you're 16+, you're cool with us sliding into your inbox with newsletters and promos, and you've made peace with our Terms of Use and Privacy Policy. Bail whenever you want—we won't take it personally.
There are obvious charms to living in a real-life dollhouse, as designer Hollie Velten-Lattrell describes her clients’ 1910 New Jersey Colonial. For starters, a storybook exterior (this one’s got jade green shingles, red window trim, and a porch you’d actually use) and, inside, built-ins galore. But there’s one con that’s impossible to ignore: just like in the toy version, the rooms are eensy-weensy. So when homeowners Angela and Nick asked Velten-Lattrell to reimagine their en suite, she started with some serious space-planning…
Both in the music industry, the young couple are always out and about at meetings and events, yet Angela loathed doing her makeup in the cramped bathroom and the closet was hopelessly outmatched by her wardrobe. “The primary bedroom should be a refuge,” Velten-Lattrell points out. “Angela talked about wanting breakfast in bed on special occasions, reading her book there at night—creating new rituals in a space that can actually hold that.”
Big structural changes would’ve done the job but also blown the budget to smithereens, so Velten-Lattrell zeroed in on existing spots where she could squeeze in more storage. In the bedroom, the designer landed on the window seat (the bench opens up—surprise!) and the bed frame (it’s a platform style with drawers), while the bathroom now has two recessed wall niches, one in the shower and one across from the vanity.
Luxe materials soften all that newfound functionality: The window seat is clad in a whimsical floral print, the shelves in slatted wood and glossy zellige tile, respectively. “We looked to desert sunsets and of-the-earth pigments found in terracotta, spices, clay, and agave,” says Velten-Lattrell of the color scheme, a nod to the couple’s Palm Desert wedding. Yes, the wedding palette became the house palette—and it works.
Another way to keep costs down was to simply buy less stuff. “We try to do that a lot—use visual weight and the rhythms of pattern and print to fill a space, rather than just shop for a bunch of things,” Velten-Lattrell explains. The corduroy headboard she dreamed up is twice as high as Angela and Nick’s old one, with dramatic swooping curves that say “look at me” without saying a word. Bookended by oversized frosted glass sconces—the 1940s fixtures are an impressive 14 inches tall—there’s no need for artwork overhead.
You won’t see a mountain of throw pillows either. “I approach a bed the same way as a sofa, where I’m trying to un-decorate it and pull back on all the easy tricks decorators use thinking we’re adding personality, but we’re really just adding clutter,” explains Velten-Lattrell. The result? A floor-sweeping coverlet pulled all the way up to the headboard, 1950s style. “It feels like a big dresscoat instead of a crazy over-accessorized outfit,” says the designer. And when Angela and Nick do want to switch it up, they can toss the window seat bolster onto the bed instead—Velten-Lattrell designed it to be the right proportions for either scenario. Multitasking furniture: the unsung hero.
In the bathroom, the paring back was more literal—she actually made the room smaller. Velten-Lattrell walled off the sink nook, which technically shrank the space, but gave it the symmetry needed to move the shower-tub under the window. The goal was to free up that corner, making room for a custom vanity twice the size of the original. Yes, she made it smaller to make it better. Designers are wizards.
Terrazzo tile and Calacatta Viola marble in the bathroom? Four different patterns in one small bedroom? It’s all very doable, promises Hollie Velten-Lattrell, as long as you stick to a general palette, mix up the scale, and purposefully repeat a detail somewhere to create commonality. In this case, the showstopping marble countertop makes a second appearance in the shower niche and a third on the baseboards. Three cameos from one marble? Now that’s getting your money’s worth.
Back in the bedroom, both the window shade and headboard fabrics show up on a pair of custom ottomans. Like many of their fellow accents, the seats do double-duty by visually anchoring the end of the bed and providing a boost to reach the top of the closet. Even the couple’s beloved pup, Truffles, makes use of them: at night, they serve as (wildly chic) canine stepstools. Truffles has better taste than most humans.
Lindsey Mather is Domino's resident word nerd, steering the content ship. When she's not plotting editorial strategy, she's writing about how people shape their spaces and vice versa. Lives in Jersey with her husband, Sam, daughter Stella, and probably a very opinionated Pinterest board.
Curious how we keep it real? Peek behind the curtain at Domino.com Editorial Standards.


