There’s something quietly magnificent about a home that speaks in two languages—one of history and one of modern life. For designer and creative Jessie Salzbrun, her 1850s Cincinnati home does exactly that. It whispers stories through its intricate plaster moldings and wood floors weathered by time, while also reflecting a deeply personal and contemporary expression of what it means to build a life with intention, warmth, and restraint.
Jessie’s residence—affectionately chronicled on her Instagram isn’t just a design showcase. It’s a sanctuary shaped by reverence for the past and responsiveness to the present. With her husband Andrew, son Jett, and their beloved pup Shabba, she has crafted a home that feels equal parts old-world Parisian and unfussy modern family nest. And somehow, in a way that feels utterly seamless, the two coexist beautifully.
The Spark of Discovery: When History Finds You
Not every home is planned. Some choose you. That’s exactly how Jessie describes the moment they first stepped into what would become their forever house. “We walked in with friends, out of pure curiosity,” she recalls. “It was dark, traditionally decorated, and heavy—rich drapery, deep maroons and navies, and none of the clean lines we gravitate toward.”
But beyond the surface, the bones of the home told a different story. There was a soul in the plasterwork. A grace in the layout. A presence. “We couldn’t shake it,” she says. “We put in an offer later that same day.”
This instinctive connection wasn’t about chasing trend or ticking off must-have features. It was about potential—about the space to tell a new story while preserving the old. Jessie and Andrew saw not just a structure, but a canvas.
Aesthetic Anchored in Emotion
Jessie describes her aesthetic as “French modern,” an elegant fusion of European timelessness and minimalist clarity. Think Parisian apartments with towering ceilings and ornate millwork, but stripped down to whites, beiges, and organic textures. It’s not merely a style—it’s a mood. A tone. A belief that beauty lives in restraint, in texture, in intentional quiet.
“Our home had so much detail that we didn’t need to add much. We needed to reveal what was already there,” Jessie explains. And so, white became the defining backdrop—an act of erasure that allows original molding, vintage fireplaces, and wood grain to sing.
Unlike maximalist homes that build with layers, Jessie’s approach is subtractive—removing distraction so that each design choice feels deliberate. The effect is both visually calming and emotionally grounding. It's a home that breathes.
From Grand Remodel to Gradual Evolution
The journey from historic shell to personal sanctuary didn’t happen overnight. Jessie and Andrew tackled a seven-month top-to-bottom renovation upon moving in—contracting out the large-scale work that included reworking layouts, adding modern systems, and restoring architectural details.
But post-renovation, the real transformation began. Over time, Jessie embraced DIY as a deeply personal extension of her aesthetic voice. She began building furniture, creating original art, and even drawing murals by hand. Her spaces don’t just contain design—they express it. And that creativity has become part of the home’s rhythm.
“There’s this pressure in modern renovation culture to ‘finish’ a house quickly,” Jessie says. “But I’ve learned the joy is in the slow burn. The layering. The seasons of your life add something new.”
That philosophy radiates through every room. From the spa-like serenity of the main bath to the imaginative sophistication of Jett’s nursery, nothing is rushed. Every detail feels earned.
Life With a Little One—and No Sacrifices
Many design-lovers dread the aesthetic compromises that can accompany parenthood. Plastic toys. Clutter. Clashing primary colors. But Jessie and Andrew have approached raising their son Jett with the same principles they bring to design: intentionality, respect, and presence.
“There’s a myth that minimalism doesn’t work with kids. That your home has to become a sea of blinking toys. We never believed that,” Jessie shares. Instead, they created a playroom with curated toys, hidden storage, and a monochromatic Ikea kitchen that mirrors the tone of the rest of the house. Even the nursery is a masterclass in scaled-back charm, filled with quiet sophistication and creative DIYs.
Rather than design around chaos, Jessie’s spaces invite calm, and Jett thrives in it. “He doesn’t miss the flashy stuff. He plays, explores, and relaxes here. That’s what matters.”
This harmony of family and form is where Jessie’s vision becomes universal. For parents looking to keep their homes beautiful and functional, her home offers proof: it’s not about perfection. It’s about presence.
There’s a special alchemy at play when a home simultaneously honors its history and adapts to the demands of the present. In Jessie Salzbrun’s Cincinnati residence, that balance isn’t just aesthetic—it’s philosophical. She’s not simply decorating; she’s engaging in a dialogue with the past. Through preserved molding, thoughtfully neutral palettes, and subtle layers of texture, her home becomes a meditation on timelessness. For modern families navigating the desire for clean minimalism and meaningful comfort, homes like Jessie’s provide the blueprint. They prove that you don’t need to sacrifice soul for style, e—or beauty for functionality.
Letting the Home Breathe
Walk through Jessie’s house and you’ll notice what isn’t there. No cluttered shelves. No color for the sake of trend. No frantic styling. It’s a space that embraces negative space as design language.
“I love when people say it feels peaceful here,” Jessie says. “That’s the greatest compliment. We live in a world of noise. Our home is meant to be the opposite of that.”
She achieves this through repetition—and repetition. Wood tones, white walls, neutral rugs, and black accents create consistency throughout the house, allowing the eye (and mind) to rest.
Even art is approached with balance. Some pieces are DIY sketches, others are vintage scores. All speak the same visual language: textural, quiet, contemplative.
Creating Intimacy Within Grandeur
One of the home’s most remarkable features is how Jessie manages to make grand spaces feel intimate. High ceilings, large windows, and expansive rooms can sometimes feel cold, but in her hands, they feel cocooning.
How? Through warmth. Soft textiles. Thoughtful lighting. Live (and faux) greenery. Layered rugs that soften acoustics and invite bare feet. Each design element plays a sensory role, creating not just visual appeal but physical comfort.
This is where the marriage of historic and modern becomes fully realized: the home holds weight, but never feels heavy.
Living In, Not Just With, the Home
For Jessie, the real design win isn’t found in furniture catalogs or mood boards. It’s found in how a space responds to life. Scratches on wood, crumbs in corners, toy trucks on the coffee table—they’re not flaws, they’re footnotes.
“We don’t panic over every mess. We live here. That’s what makes it home.”
There’s a humility in how she speaks about the home—a sense that she’s not just the designer, but a participant in its ongoing story. It’s a refreshing reminder that beauty and functionality are not opposing forces. They’re part of the same philosophy: care deeply. Live fully. Design intentionally.
A Living Blueprint
In Jessie Salzbrun’s home, every room holds more than furnishings—it holds a philosophy. A belief in legacy. In family. In spaces that feel as good as they look. Her story is a gentle reminder that great design doesn’t demand compromise—it invites conversation. With the past. With the future. With the people who make the house a home.
And when you find that rare harmony between elegance and ease, heritage and habit, you don’t just live in a home. You live in a sanctuary.
Layered Living — Where Design, Family, and Fabulive Rugs Collide
In Jessie Salzbrun’s elegantly restrained Cincinnati home, style doesn’t sit on a pedestal—it settles into the corners of everyday life. And nowhere is that clearer than underfoot. The rugs that run through her home aren’t simply accents. They are anchors. They soften, unify, and ground every room in both aesthetic continuity and daily function.
From the layered neutral textures of the living room to the practical elegance of the dining room, Jessie’s rug choices reflect her overall philosophy: beauty should be lived in. Her selections from showcase how rugs can transform not only a room’s appearance but also its atmosphere—adding comfort, warmth, and a quiet rhythm that mirrors the life happening around it.
Let’s step inside the story beneath the surface and explore how Jessie’s approach to rug layering, material selection, and design function speaks to the heart of modern family living.
Redefining Grounded Design: Why Rugs Matter
In many homes, rugs are afterthoughts—final flourishes added once the big pieces are in place. But for Jessie, they’re foundational. Her design begins with the floor and builds up.
Why? Rugs define zones, influence acoustics, invite interaction, and set the emotional tone of a space. They soften the hard geometry of architecture and introduce pattern and texture that isn’t just visual—it’s tactile. And when children and pets are involved, that layer of softness becomes essential.
“I want people to feel welcome enough to sit on the floor,” Jessie explains. “And for Jett, that means a place to play that’s not scratchy, stiff, or shedding. A good rug is like a hug from the ground up.”
The Living Room: Layering for Texture and Life
The heart of the Salzbrun home is its serene, sunlit living room—a space where historic moldings meet contemporary ease. Here, Jessie layered a cotton rug from Fabulive over a previously used oversized jute rug. This wasn’t just an aesthetic decision—it was a response to real-life use.
“We loved the look of the jute rug, but it shed constantly and our dog’s claws tore it up,” Jessie says. “It had this incredible weight and texture, though, so instead of tossing it, I layered a lighter, more functional rug on top.”
The beige Diamond Chevron Bands Tasseled Rug offered the perfect solution. Soft underfoot, easy to clean, and neutral enough to blend with her signature palette of whites, woods, and blacks, it brought both comfort and visual cohesion to the room.
Layering here becomes a metaphor for Jessie’s approach: not replacing what doesn’t work, but reimagining it. The layered rug doesn’t cover the jute—it converses with it. Together, they add depth, dimension, and warmth.
Rug Function as Family Function
With a toddler in the mix, every design choice must carry a double burden: beauty and utility. The rugs meet both demands. In Jett’s playroom, for example, a soft, low-pile rug creates a safe, inviting space for creativity without sacrificing aesthetics.
“We wanted to create a room where Jett could explore freely,” Jessie notes. “But we also didn’t want it to scream ‘kid zone’ when you walked by.”
The solution? A clean, minimal palette with thoughtful storage and a stylish, muted rug that complements the rest of the house. The rug is more than just a floor covering—it’s part of the parenting philosophy. Jessie’s entire home is built around the idea that a child can thrive in beauty, not despite it.
The Dining Room: Style Meets Spills
Dining rooms are notoriously difficult when it comes to rug selection. Between dropped forks, spilled wine, and daily foot traffic, rugs in these spaces need to endure it all—without looking like a compromise.
Jessie chose the black Ring Around the Rosette rug for precisely this reason. The darker hue conceals stains, while the subtle circular pattern adds just enough visual interest to elevate the room’s clean lines and white walls.
“I knew I wanted a black rug in here,” Jessie explains. “It’s the one place where mess is a guarantee, and I didn’t want to be precious about it. But I also didn’t want it to feel too harsh. The Rosette rug softens the black and creates a kind of graceful center.”
Black rugs are often underutilized because of their perceived severity, but in the right context, especially within a neutral or whitewashed room, they act as powerful grounding tools. They stabilize the energy of a room, drawing the eye down and keeping the space centered.d
The Art of Living with Rugs
A rug is never just a rug—not in homes that are truly lived in. It is an archive of daily life. It holds the weight of footsteps and the warmth of play. In Jessie Salzbrun’s home, each rug functions as an emotional artifact. The living room rug cushions story time. The dining room rug bears witness to laughter, toasts, and crumbs. The playroom rug carries the echoes of imagination. And all of them, together, create continuity—threading through rooms, grounding the space not just physically, but emotionally.
In a design world obsessed with what photographs well, rugs like Jessie’s remind us what feels right. They aren’t showpieces. They are stage pieces—meant to support the real action of life. And when chosen with care, e—when made with quality and installed with intention, rugs become the connective tissue of a home. For families searching for both function and feeling, for style that welcomes mess and memory, rugs aren’t just solutions. They are stories waiting to be lived on.
The Aesthetic Equation: Color, Texture, and Scale
Jessie’s rug philosophy relies heavily on three core principles: color restraint, texture contrast, and proper scale.
Color
Across her home, rugs never shout. They whisper. Neutrals—beige, ivory, black, gray—create cohesion. But within those neutrals are subtle shifts: warm undertones, cool blacks, soft shadow play. These microtones interact with light and other textures to create richness without overwhelming the eye.
Texture
From tasseled cotton to woven poly blends, Jessie chooses rugs that feel like something. Even the most minimal pieces have a tactile story. In a home where visual clutter is avoided, texture steps in as the main communicator. A flatweave says one thing; a plush shag says another. Each room gets its tone based on function and feeling.
Scale
“Get the biggest rug you can fit. Always.” That’s Jessie’s unflinching advice. Too-small rugs can make a room feel fragmented. Large rugs anchor spaces and connect furniture arrangements. Even in tight quarters like her hallway or entryway, Jessie chooses runners that stretch the space and make it feel expansive rather than boxed in.
Seasonal Living with Fabulive Rugs
One of Jessie’s lesser-known rug habits is seasonal rotation. In colder months, she leans into plush textures that feel like a blanket underfoot. In summer, lightweight flatweaves take over, offering breathability and easier cleaning during humid months.
The versatility allows for this fluidity. Their wide range of washable, reversible, and lightweight options means that you can treat rugs like you treat linens—switching them out to suit mood, season, and need.
In spring, Jessie may layer a thinner cotton piece on top of a jute base. In fall, she might bring in deeper hues or a denser pile. “It’s like giving your home a wardrobe,” she says. “It helps the space feel fresh without needing to redesign everything.”
Pets and Practicality
Shabba, Jessie’s rescue pup, is as much a resident of the home as any human. And that means rug durability matters. Jessie avoids anything too delicate or high-maintenance in shared spaces and favors rugs that are easily vacuumed or wiped down.
The cotton and synthetic blends are ideal in this regard. They hold up to paw traffic, food bowls, and the occasional zoomie session across the living room. They also don’t require a nervous breakdown when a mess happens, which, with a toddler and a dog, is inevitable.
When Rugs Become Ritual
In a house full of intentional decisions, the act of choosing, placing, and caring for rugs becomes a ritual in itself. Jessie doesn’t just throw down a rug and forget it. She rotates, refreshes, and reconsiders each one over time. Some move rooms. Some get layered. Some even get rehomed.
This dynamic relationship with her rugs mirrors the evolution of the home itself. Nothing is static. Everything is responsive. And that responsiveness is what gives her home its lived-in luxury.
Design That Holds You
Jessie Salzbrun’s home doesn’t just look good—it feels like it’s holding you. And the rugs beneath your feet are a major reason why. In partnership with Jessie has curated a series of pieces that blend seamlessly into her world, not just in form, but in function.
From the living room’s layered softness to the dining room’s strategic dark tones, these rugs represent more than design. They represent philosophy. That a home can be both elegant and energetic. That children and minimalism can coexist. That the floor beneath you matters as much as the art on the wall.
So when you choose a rug, you’re not just choosing color or pattern. You’re choosing how you want your home to feel. You’re choosing the kind of life you want to live—one that’s grounded, gathered, and beautifully layered.
The Power of Restraint — How Minimalism and DIY Coexist in a Family Home
In a world of curated maximalism, saturated palettes, and a constant push for more—more decor, more stuff, more statemen, Jessie Salzbrun’s home in Cincinnati offers something both radical and quietly revolutionary: restraint. Her aesthetic isn't built on abundance but on absence. It’s not about showcasing everything she can do—it’s about choosing what’s necessary, what’s meaningful, and letting that simplicity breathe.
This isn’t minimalism in its cold, clinical form. Jessie’s home radiates warmth, family, creativity, and comfort. It's an approach that lives at the intersection of style and soul, where every object has a purpose and nothing is included purely for performance. Even more astonishing? She’s achieved this while raising a toddler, hosting a dog, and tackling countless DIY projects with her own two hands.
This chapter explores how Jessie lives beautifully with less—and how her intentional design and hands-on creativity create a living space that feels open, functional, and profoundly personal.
Letting the Home Speak for Itself
Jessie’s home was built in 1853—a fact that never disappears. Original molding wraps the ceilings, antique fireplaces anchor the rooms, and the floorboards carry the patina of more than a century of use. In renovating, Jessie made the bold choice not to add more layers to an already rich history. Instead, she stripped it back to let the architecture breathe.
White walls. Unfussy trim. Neutral tones that create negative space instead of visual competition. “Our goal was to let the house be what it is,” she explains. “We didn’t need to cover up the history. We just needed to create space for it to shine.”
It’s a belief that shows up everywhere. A simple linen curtain instead of heavy drapes. A single ceramic vase on a sideboard rather than a styled collection. The absence of clutter becomes a statement in itself—one that says: we trust the bones of this house. We don’t need to shout.
Minimalism as Mindfulness, Not Aesthetic
What Jessie practices isn't trendy minimalism. It's not stark, black-and-white catalog minimalism. Her minimalism is mindfulness expressed spatially. Every item earns its place.
From handmade side tables to reupholstered thrifted chairs, each piece has a story. Even the artwork—often crafted by Jessie herself—feels more like a whisper than a declaration. It’s there to support the space, not consume it.
“I used to think minimalist homes looked too sterile,” she admits. “But when you do it right, with texture and intention, it feels peaceful, not empty.”
And peaceful it is. The main bedroom, in its wash of white and soft wood tones, offers a serene retreat. The nursery is quiet, mature, and timeless. Even Jett’s playroom manages to feel airy despite being filled with activity. That’s because restraint doesn’t mean void—it means thoughtfulness. It means trusting that less can say more.
DIY Without Chaos
There’s a common misconception that DIY projects and minimalism can’t coexist. One suggests experimentation, mess, and improvisation; the other, strict control and editing. Jessie proves otherwise.
Her home is full of DIY—from murals to handmade art to custom furniture. But each project serves a purpose. There’s no making for the sake of making. Her creative output is guided by a precise internal compass: Does it serve the space? Does it elevate it? Does it belong?
“I’ll live with an empty wall for months if I’m not sure what should go there,” Jessie says. “I’d rather wait than rush and fill it with something I don’t love.”
This discipline is part of what gives her home such clarity. Each element, whether handmade or curated, feels at home because it belongs there. DIY becomes an extension of her values—creativity without clutter.
The Joy of Empty Space
One of the most striking things in Jessie’s home isn’t what’s there—it’s what’s not. Blank walls. Bare corners. Negative space that feels as deliberate as any piece of furniture.
To Jessie, this openness isn’t about being unfinished—it’s about giving the eye a place to rest. “I think people are afraid of emptiness,” she says. “They feel like every inch has to be filled. But space is powerful. It lets the light in. It lets the mind relax.”
And in a family home, where activity, movement, and noise are constants, that stillness is sacred.
Restraint as Rebellion, Space as Sanctuary
In a culture of excess, restraint becomes a radical act. Jessie Salzbrun’s Cincinnati home is not minimalist because it follows a trend—it’s minimalist because it listens. It listens to the echoes of its history, to the rhythm of daily life, to the quiet needs of a family craving calm. And in that listening, it creates something rare: sanctuary.
Restraint in design is often misunderstood as a lack. But in reality, it’s presence. It’s the ability to say: this is enough. This table is enough. This blank wall is enough. This light, falling through the window and onto bare floorboards, is enough. For families navigating the chaos of modern life, Jessie’s home offers a new template—one where beauty doesn’t demand noise, and meaning doesn’t demand mass. It invites us to rethink abundance. To redefine richness. And to return, again and again, to the peace found in space.
Child-Forward, Not Child-Centric
Jessie’s toddler, Jett, has free rein in most of the house, but you won’t find primary-colored toy bins or blinking lights. The playroom is designed for function and growth, with intentional storage and DIY solutions that align with the home’s broader aesthetic.
“I didn’t want a home that looked like a daycare,” Jessie laughs. “But I also didn’t want to deny Jett a place to explore. We just approached it the same way we approached everything—what’s useful, beautiful, and true to us?”
That led to a Montessori-style approach: open shelving, neutral tones, child-sized furniture, and toys that encourage imaginative play. The result is a space that’s stimulating but not overwhelming. A space where Jessie and Jett can coexist—creating, playing, and resting in a room that reflects both their personalities.
Art with a Pulse
Most of the art in Jessie’s home is her own. She creates it when inspiration strikes, often using found materials or thrifted frames. Some pieces are abstract sketches. Others are minimalist landscapes. All carry the same tone as the rest of the house: quiet, textural, and personal.
“I love making art because it lets me respond to a space in real-time,” Jessie says. “Sometimes I’ll see a blank wall for weeks, and suddenly I’ll know what it needs.”
This instinctive creation process ensures that nothing feels forced. The art lives and evolves with the home, just like the family inside it.
Faux and Flora: A Botanical Balance
Jessie is a firm believer in the power of greenery—but she’s also realistic. “We’ve killed so many plants trying to force them into corners they didn’t want to live in,” she admits. So now she embraces a blend of real and faux, choosing live plants for well-lit rooms and high-quality faux options for the darker, less plant-friendly nooks.
Her trick? Always use a beautiful vase or pot. Presentation elevates even the most artificial greenery. “I have one fake eucalyptus stem that’s been in five different rooms for photo shoots,” she laughs. “It’s my most working decor piece.”
This blend of honesty and aesthetic clarity is classic Jessie. She’s not here to prove perfection. She’s here to build beauty that lasts—and that sometimes means leaning into practicality.
Materials That Matter
Jessie’s minimalist palette isn’t about starkness—it’s about softness. She balances the whites and blacks with layers of texture: boucle chairs, vintage woods, natural stone, and, of course, thoughtfully chosen rugs.
The rugs play a starring role here. Their low-pile, washable cotton rugs add comfort without visual weight. In the nursery, a rug brings quiet softness beneath the crib. In the playroom, it anchors movement. And in the hallway, a textured runner creates continuity between rooms.
Jessie chooses rugs the same way she chooses art—with purpose. “They have to serve the space, not just decorate it,” she says. “They have to feel good under bare feet. They have to make sense.”
Trusting the Slow Process
One of the most radical things about Jessie’s home is how long it’s taken to get here. There was no rush to fill rooms. No panicked shopping sprees. Just a quiet trust in the process—adding, editing, observing.
“That first year, it was mostly white walls and furniture,” Jessie says. “It didn’t feel done. But it also didn’t feel wrong.”
Over time, art appeared. Shelves were styled. Light fixtures were swapped. But everything happened slowly. Seasonally. Thoughtfully. That pace of creation is rare—and it’s part of what makes the space so emotionally resonant.
You feel the slowness. The care. The listening.
A Family House Is Never Finished — Growing with Grace Inside Historic Walls
There’s a particular kind of magic that happens when a house isn’t treated like a finished product but a living, breathing participant in the rhythms of family life. For designer Jessie Salzbrun, that’s exactly how her 1850s Cincinnati home operates. It is not a static backdrop—it’s an evolving canvas. And as her family grows, as her style shifts, and as her creativity deepens, so too does her home.
In this final chapter of our four-part series, we explore how Jessie continues to shape her space with patience, presence, and vision. From upcoming renovation dreams to her belief that homes are meant to evolve, we’ll uncover how this historic structure continues to cradle a thoroughly modern family story.
A Home in Constant Dialogue
When Jessie and Andrew first purchased their Cincinnati home, they knew they were entering into a relationship—not just a renovation. The home, built in 1853, came with a voice of its own. Arched doorways, plaster medallions, worn wooden floors—these weren’t elements to be erased, but stories to be acknowledged.
Even after a seven-month top-to-bottom remodel, Jessie describes her home as a work in progress. “A home like this will never be done,” she says. “And honestly, I wouldn’t want it to be.”
Rather than treat completion as a goal, Jessie embraces evolution. Each season, each chapter, each milestone in her family’s life brings something new to the home—a layer, a tweak, a revelation. Her approach rejects the Instagram-era pressure to present perfection. Instead, it celebrates becoming.
Renovation, Then Revelation
While the initial remodel focused on the practical—updating plumbing, adding insulation, restoring historic details—the deeper transformation came in the years that followed. “That first phase was about function,” Jessie says. “But the soul? That came slowly.”
The soul emerged through experimentation. Through rearranging furniture ten times. Through discovering what kinds of lighting made a space feel warm. Through building her own side tables when she couldn’t find the right ones. Through layering rugs that tied modern texture to timeless floors.
The most beautiful corners in her home—the living room with its layered neutrals, the playroom with its DIY gallery wall, the hallway with its subtle depth of grain and light—weren’t planned in a single sitting. They were revealed over time.
Designing with the Long View
So many renovations are guided by resale value. Jessie takes a different view. “We’re not designing for an open house—we’re designing for ourselves. For now. For the life we’re living today.”
This philosophy liberates her. It allows her to take risks, like painting every wall white, knowing that the contrast it offers will highlight both light and shadow. It encourages her to create custom artwork, knowing that no mass-produced piece could say what she wants to say. And it gives her the patience to live with half-done rooms until the right ideas arrive.
That long view also shapes how she shops. Her partnership exemplifies this mindset. “I love that their rugs are beautiful but also built for life. They’re not precious. They’re not ‘for later.’ They’re for now. For sitting with your kid. For rolling out under a dinner party. For living.”
Future Projects, Present Curiosity
Even in a home that seems effortlessly complete, Jessie always has something brewing. The next big project? A dining room transformation.
“I want to add molding to the walls to match the rest of the house,” she says. “Right now, it’s one of the only rooms that doesn’t carry that original detailing, and it feels a little disconnected.
But this isn’t just a decorative decision. It’s about connection—tying the room into the rest of the house’s architectural rhythm. It’s also about the challenge. Jessie thrives on learning new skills, and this will be her first attempt at installing wall molding herself.
“There’s always a little fear,” she admits. “But I trust myself more now. I’ve built things. I’ve fixed mistakes. And I know the reward of seeing something I created with my own hands.”
Other ideas on the list: refinishing the back stairs, building a playhouse in the yard for Jett, and creating an updated workspace that can flex between creative studio and cozy reading room.
The Home as Companion, Not Canvas
What if we stopped treating our homes like projects to complete, and instead saw them as companions in our unfolding lives? Jessie Salzbrun’s home reminds us that living beautifully isn’t about reaching a visual endpoint. It’s about listening to what the space needs, to what you need, and to how both can evolve in harmony. A home like Jessie’s isn’t a performance piece—it’s a process. Its beauty lies in its openness to change. In its humility. In its daily service to real life.
As design culture increasingly prioritizes polished reveals and rapid transformations, homes like this offer a counterpoint: that patience is a design principle. That love is found in layers. That elegance isn’t about excess—it’s about essence. And when we let go of the pressure to “finish,” we begin to experience our homes in the way they were meant to be experienced—not as destinations, but as living archives. Places of memory, creativity, failure, joy, and growth. That is the real legacy of a home. And that is the story Jessie is still writing.
Raising a Family in a Home with History
Jessie often reflects on what it means to raise a child in a home that has seen more than a century of lives unfold. “Something is grounding about it,” she says. “Jett is growing up surrounded by stories—even if he doesn’t know them yet.”
It’s a gift, she believes, to grow up in a space that teaches care. Where old walls require gentleness. Where original windows remind you of the world before screens. Where design isn’t just a trend, but a tradition passed forward.
That’s why even the most child-friendly spaces in her home maintain their elegance. The nursery isn’t juvenile—it’s timeless. The playroom isn’t chaotic—it’s thoughtful. Jessie’s parenting philosophy mirrors her design approach: give your children beauty, and they’ll learn to respect it.
Fabulive Rugs as Generational Pieces
Throughout her home, Jessie has selected rugs that don’t just match the style of the home—but its spirit. Rugs that feel rooted, honest, and lived-in. Her Diamond Chevron Bands Tasseled rug in the living room adds softness without drama. Her Ring Around the Rosette rug in the dining room grounds the space with depth. And throughout the upstairs, subtle flatweaves echo the flow of footsteps across a family history still in the making.
“I love that the designs feel both current and classic,” Jessie says. “They’re not trend pieces. They’re story pieces.”
And because they’re durable and washable, they’ll stay in the story for years to come. “These are rugs Jett will grow up with,” she reflects. “One day, he’ll remember lying on them with a book. Playing with cars across the patterns. It’s those small memories that stay with you.”
Beauty That Lives With You
There’s a common myth that beauty and function are opposing forces. Jessie debunks that myth in every corner of her home. Her space is proof that you can have design that’s elegant and livable. That you can decorate with restraint and still feel full. That you can live minimally and still feel deeply nurtured.
Her rugs are sat on. Her furniture is scratched. Her walls have fingerprints. And yet, the house never feels messy. It feels alive.
That’s the power of thoughtful design. It doesn’t aim to resist life. It aims to hold it.
Celebrating Change, Embracing Rest
Not every project needs to be in motion. Jessie’s learned to celebrate rest just as much as renovation. There are seasons where she’s inspired and builds a mural in the span of a weekend. And there are seasons where nothing changes except the sunlight on the floor.
“I used to feel guilt in those quiet periods,” she says. “Like I wasn’t doing enough. But now I see them as essential. The home needs rest just like we do.”
This embrace of stillness deepens the home’s sense of rhythm. There’s no pressure to always be updating. There’s simply the invitation to keep noticing, keep loving, keep living.
Passing It On: A House Built to Hold Legacy
Jessie’s home is designed not just for her family—but for memory. One day, she hopes it will hold the next generation. That Jett will grow into the space. That his footsteps will join the ghostly echo of all those who’ve lived here before.
She imagines passing down pieces—the rug from the playroom, the vintage sideboard, the DIY art. She imagines one day walking through the house and seeing her son’s own style layered on top of hers. The same walls. New stories.
That, to her, is the greatest legacy: not a finished house, but a house that can keep being rewritten.
Final Reflection: The House as a Mirror of Life
To live in a house like Jessie Salzbrun’s is to understand that beauty and change are not only compatible—they are essential to one another. A truly loved home isn’t static. It shifts with you. It echoes you. It holds your joys, your grief, your growth, and your becoming.
This final chapter is a tribute to that kind of home. One that doesn’t demand perfection. One that forgives you for not finishing the molding. One that holds a rug under your feet and reminds you: you are home. Not because everything is done. But because everything is yours
And that is the ultimate design goal—to live fully in a space that lives with you.
In Jessie Salzbrun’s home, beauty is measured not in quantity but in the quality of feeling. The restraint she practices is not about austerity—it’s about clarity. It’s about building a life where there’s space to move, to breathe, to imagine. Her home isn’t minimal for the sake of trend. It’s minimal because it reflects how she wants to live—fully, freely, and with deep attention to what matters most.
It’s a home that doesn’t just look beautiful.
It feels like peace.