There is an assumption that having more space makes a home easier to furnish.
Sometimes it makes the decisions harder.
A large room can accommodate almost anything. A bigger sofa. Another chair. A second coffee table. More objects. More art. More furniture simply because there is somewhere to put it.
But the ability to fit something into a room does not necessarily give it a reason to be there.
This is what makes Miami such an interesting place to think about furniture.
The city is associated with generous contemporary residences, expansive living areas, entertaining, light and a climate that influences the relationship between architecture and everyday life.
It presents almost the opposite question to New York.
When space is limited, we ask what deserves to occupy it.
When space is abundant, perhaps the more interesting question is what we choose not to fill.
Because a large home does not become richer through accumulation.
Sometimes its greatest luxury is the room it leaves around the things that matter.
Why can a large room be harder to furnish than a small one?
Because more space creates more possibilities, but not necessarily better decisions.
In a smaller room, architecture establishes boundaries quickly.
There are only so many places a dining table can sit. Circulation routes become obvious. The dimensions of a sofa matter immediately. Every additional object has a visible consequence.
A large room can be far more forgiving.
And that forgiveness can become the problem.
Furniture can gradually spread across the floor simply because the architecture is capable of absorbing it. One seating arrangement becomes two. Empty corners acquire occasional tables. Large walls invite more objects.
Eventually the room is full, yet it can still feel strangely unresolved.
This is because scale is not simply a question of quantity.
A large room does not necessarily need more furniture. It needs furniture capable of establishing relationships across more space.
That might mean a substantial dining table rather than several secondary pieces.
It might mean a generously proportioned coffee table that gives a large seating arrangement a clear centre.
It might mean allowing a sculptural object enough surrounding space to be understood from a distance.
The objective is not to occupy the room.
It is to give the room structure.
Can a large home still feel intimate?
Yes. Intimacy is created by human relationships and proportion, not by square metres alone.
This is where large interiors can become particularly interesting.
Architecture may be monumental, but the human body has not become larger because the room has.
People still need to sit close enough to talk comfortably.
A coffee table still needs to relate naturally to the seating around it.
A dining table still needs to bring people into a shared experience rather than simply demonstrate how large the dining room is.
That distinction matters.
A spectacular room can photograph beautifully from twenty metres away and still feel uncomfortable once people begin living in it.
Good residential design has to work at both scales.
The architectural scale is what we see. Human scale is what we feel.
Furniture often sits between the two.
It can respond to the volume of the architecture while bringing that volume back towards the dimensions of everyday life.
A large dining table can hold its own within an expansive room, but its real purpose begins when people sit around it.
A substantial coffee table can anchor a broad living area, but what matters is the relationship it creates between the people sitting nearby.
The room may be large.
The moments within it remain human.
Should furniture become larger when the room becomes larger?
Sometimes — but scale should respond to proportion, not simply imitate the size of the architecture.
A small piece can appear lost within a large volume.
But making everything oversized creates another problem.
When every object competes with the architecture, the interior can lose hierarchy. Nothing has room to lead and nothing has permission to be quiet.
Instead, a large room can benefit from deciding which pieces deserve greater scale.
Perhaps it is the dining table because the household gathers there.
Perhaps it is a sculptural coffee table because the living area needs a strong centre.
Perhaps one substantial piece is enough to hold a part of the room while everything around it becomes quieter.
This is where negative space becomes powerful.
In a generous home, empty space is not wasted space.
It can be what allows proportion to become visible.
It creates distance from which furniture can be appreciated. It allows circulation to feel natural. It gives architecture room to remain architecture and furniture room to remain furniture.
The privilege of having more space is not that every part of it needs to be occupied.
It is that everything does not have to compete for room.
Why can an expensive large room still feel empty?
Because cost, size and visual impact cannot replace connection.
A room can contain exceptional materials and beautifully made objects and still lack a centre.
This is not necessarily because it needs another piece of furniture.
It may need a stronger relationship between the furniture already there.
Consider a large living area.
If the sofa, chairs and coffee table are positioned according to the perimeter of the architecture rather than the people using them, enormous distances can appear between objects.
Everything fits.
Nothing connects.
Moving those same pieces into a more deliberate relationship can completely change the experience of the room.
The empty space does not disappear.
It simply moves to where it becomes useful.
Instead of sitting between people, it sits around the furniture.
That is a very different kind of abundance.
What does Miami's climate ask of furniture?
It asks us to think beyond appearance and consider exactly where and how a piece will live.
Miami's climate is not merely part of the view.
It is part of the design brief.
South Florida experiences a warm, wet climate with a substantial rainy season, while strong sunlight is an everyday consideration in highly glazed homes. Those conditions matter because furniture materials do not exist independently of their environment.
Timber responds to changes in atmospheric moisture. As humidity rises and falls, wood absorbs and releases moisture, producing small dimensional changes. Light exposure can also alter wood and furniture finishes over time, which is why prolonged direct sunlight deserves consideration when positioning timber furniture.
That does not mean natural timber is somehow incompatible with Miami.
It means placement matters.
A beautiful timber dining table positioned inside a climate-controlled residence is living in a very different environment from a timber object permanently exposed on an uncovered terrace.
And a room that visually opens completely to the outdoors does not make everything within it outdoor furniture.
That distinction is important in architecture where the visual boundary between inside and outside can almost disappear.
Does furniture near the outdoors need to be outdoor furniture?
Not necessarily. What matters is the actual exposure, not how close the furniture appears to the landscape.
A dining table can sit metres from an open terrace and still live predominantly within a protected interior.
Another piece may sit beneath a covered outdoor area but remain exposed to wind-driven rain, humidity or strong periods of sunlight.
A third may be positioned completely outdoors beside a pool.
Visually, those three pieces might belong to the same architectural composition.
Materially, they are living very different lives.
This is why furniture selection should consider the specific location rather than relying on broad descriptions such as indoor-outdoor living.
Ask what can actually reach the piece.
Direct sun?
Rain?
Pool water?
Salt-laden air in a coastal environment?
Large fluctuations in temperature or humidity?
The answers can influence material, finish, hardware, maintenance and whether a particular piece is appropriate for that location at all.
Good furniture placement begins with understanding the environment the furniture will actually experience.
Is natural stone suitable for Miami homes?
Natural stone can work beautifully in warm and coastal environments, but the particular stone, finish, location and exposure still matter.
This is where the words natural stone can become too broad.
Different stones have different physical properties. Their density, porosity, mineral composition and finish can influence how they respond to a particular application.
The Natural Stone Institute specifically identifies salt atmosphere, extreme heat, immersion and pool or fountain chemicals among the environmental exposures that may require additional consideration when stone is selected and designed for a location.
That is an important distinction.
Stone may feel permanent, but permanence should not be confused with invulnerability.
Sealing can improve resistance to staining for appropriate stones, but a sealer does not make natural stone stain-proof or remove the need to choose the right material for the environment.
For John Leighton stone furniture, we select dense natural stone, use textured surfaces and seal the stone before it enters the home.
But even then, we believe the location should be considered honestly.
A side table inside a living room.
The same table beneath a protected terrace.
The same table permanently exposed beside a pool.
These are not identical applications simply because the furniture is identical.
Material selection should respect climate rather than pretend it does not exist.
How do you make a large living room feel more connected?
Create centres of activity rather than trying to furnish the entire volume.
This is particularly useful in large open-plan homes.
Instead of asking how to fill one enormous room, ask what happens within it.
Where do people sit and talk?
Where is coffee placed?
Where does somebody read?
Where do guests naturally gather before dinner?
Where does the family come together when there is no particular occasion?
Those activities can establish smaller human territories within much larger architecture.
Furniture gives those territories form.
A coffee table can establish the centre of a seating arrangement.
A dining table can create a destination within an otherwise open floor plan.
An étagère can introduce height and structure while still allowing light and sightlines to move through a space.
The architecture can remain expansive without everyday life feeling dispersed across it.
That is the difference between filling space and giving space purpose.
Is more space the same as more luxury?
Only if we define luxury by quantity.
There is another possibility.
Perhaps luxury is not having enough room for more things.
Perhaps it is having enough room around the things we genuinely value.
Enough room to walk around a dining table without navigating furniture.
Enough room for a sculptural form to be understood from more than one direction.
Enough room for twelve people to gather comfortably.
Enough room for children to move through a house while adults remain at the table.
Enough room for friends to stay longer than planned.
Enough room for the home to change as the family within it changes.
Seen this way, abundance becomes less about accumulation and more about possibility.
That feels particularly relevant in large homes because restraint is easy to celebrate when space forces it upon us.
Restraint becomes more meaningful when there was no physical reason to practise it.
What can Miami teach us about abundance?
Perhaps that having more does not remove the need to choose.
It makes choosing even more important.
More space gives furniture room to become substantial.
More light reveals material differently throughout the day.
Larger rooms allow greater distances, stronger forms and moments of deliberate emptiness.
A warm climate can change the way architecture is opened and inhabited.
But none of those things automatically creates a good home.
The decisions still matter.
Where people gather matters.
How far apart they sit matters.
What the sunlight reaches matters.
What the climate reaches matters.
Which materials are appropriate matters.
And what we decide not to put into the room matters too.
There is something beautiful about a home that has the capacity for excess but does not need to demonstrate it.
A substantial dining table with space around it.
A coffee table strong enough to hold the centre of a room.
Natural stone chosen with an understanding of where it will live.
Timber given an environment in which it can endure.
Objects with meaning rather than objects selected to occupy every available surface.
And, around all of them, space.
Not empty space.
Space waiting for life.
Because eventually the architecture will stop being new.
The rooms will stop being photographed.
The furniture will no longer be experienced as a collection of objects carefully positioned within a beautiful interior.
It will simply become where things happen.
Breakfast before everyone leaves in different directions.
Wet footprints after an afternoon by the pool.
Friends moving chairs closer together.
A table becoming crowded during dinner.
Doors open late into the evening.
Children becoming adults.
New people arriving.
Familiar people returning.
Perhaps that is the more interesting meaning of abundance.
Not having more things around us.
Having enough space for more life to happen between them.
Designed to Endure.
John Leighton.
FURTHER READING
STRANG — Miami, Florida
A multidisciplinary architecture, interior design and landscape practice known for environmental modernism and contemporary residences shaped by climate and their surroundings. Its work provides an interesting reference for considering how substantial architecture can remain responsive to South Florida's environment.
strang.design
Bunsa Studio — Miami, Florida
A Miami-based interior architecture and design studio founded by Jennifer Bunsa, with an emphasis on thoughtful, comfortable interiors, natural and handmade materials, and homes that feel genuinely lived in rather than simply presented.
bunsa.studio
Light On White — Miami, Florida
A Miami design studio working across new construction, remodelling, furnishings and art. Its residential work offers another perspective on restraint, proportion and the relationship between contemporary interiors and generous architectural space.
lightonwhite.com
2id Interiors — North Miami, Florida
Led by Rafaela Simoes and Laila Colvin, this Miami-based studio works across residential interiors with particular attention to spatial planning, functionality and the relationship between a client's way of living and the space around them.
2idinteriors.com
Studio IDC — Miami, Florida
A family-owned interior design practice working across South Florida and the Caribbean. Its residential and hospitality work explores warm-climate living through interiors intended to feel considered, comfortable and connected to their location.
studioidc.com
MONIOMI Design — Miami, Florida
Founded by Monica Santayana and Ronald Alvarez, MONIOMI approaches interiors through a bold mixture of colour, form, furniture and collectible design, offering a more expressive perspective on how substantial spaces can develop identity.
moniomi.com
Brown Davis Architecture & Interiors — Miami Beach, Florida
A multidisciplinary practice working across architecture, interiors and landscape design. Its Miami work provides a useful reference for thinking about proportion, comfort, bespoke furniture and the relationship between large-scale architecture and human experience.
browndavis.com
Britto Charette — Miami, Florida
A Miami-based interior design studio specialising in high-end residential interiors, including expansive apartments and residences where space planning, custom furniture, art and large architectural volumes must work together coherently.
brittocharette.com
Studio 790 Interior Design — Miami Shores, Florida
A Miami-based practice working across residential and hospitality projects, with an approach that places particular emphasis on functional planning and the balance between furniture, material and available space.
studio790.com
Assure Interiors — Coral Gables, Florida
A Miami-area residential design practice whose work includes waterfront homes and penthouses across South Florida. Natural materials, interior architecture and the relationship between inside and outside frequently inform its approach.
assureinteriors.com
DLT Interiors — Miami Beach, Florida
A residential interior design studio whose South Florida work explores coastal living through warm timber, texture, neutral materials and interiors intended to balance refinement with everyday comfort.
dltinteriordesigns.com
FL Interiors — Miami, Florida
A Miami-based interior design studio working across residential and hospitality projects, with an approach centred on proportion, architecture, materiality, art and craftsmanship within contemporary spaces.
fl-designstudio.com
John Leighton is not affiliated with the external architects, designers or studios referenced above.
COMMUNITY
Styling News explores the questions that come up when choosing furniture, materials and the way they work within a home. If there is something you would like us to explain in a future article, we welcome the conversation.
At John Leighton we design furniture around natural material, considered form and the belief that the pieces we live with should have a reason to remain.
If you suddenly had twice as much space in your home, would you add more furniture — or give more room to the pieces and people already there?
Can a Large Home Still Feel Intimate? What Miami Teaches Us About Designing With Abundance
There is an assumption that having more space makes a home easier to furnish.
Sometimes it makes the decisions harder.
A large room can accommodate almost anything. A bigger sofa. Another chair. A second coffee table. More objects. More art. More furniture simply because there is somewhere to put it.
But the ability to fit something into a room does not necessarily give it a reason to be there.
This is what makes Miami such an interesting place to think about furniture.
The city is associated with generous contemporary residences, expansive living areas, entertaining, light and a climate that influences the relationship between architecture and everyday life.
It presents almost the opposite question to New York.
When space is limited, we ask what deserves to occupy it.
When space is abundant, perhaps the more interesting question is what we choose not to fill.
Because a large home does not become richer through accumulation.
Sometimes its greatest luxury is the room it leaves around the things that matter.
Why can a large room be harder to furnish than a small one?
Because more space creates more possibilities, but not necessarily better decisions.
In a smaller room, architecture establishes boundaries quickly.
There are only so many places a dining table can sit. Circulation routes become obvious. The dimensions of a sofa matter immediately. Every additional object has a visible consequence.
A large room can be far more forgiving.
And that forgiveness can become the problem.
Furniture can gradually spread across the floor simply because the architecture is capable of absorbing it. One seating arrangement becomes two. Empty corners acquire occasional tables. Large walls invite more objects.
Eventually the room is full, yet it can still feel strangely unresolved.
This is because scale is not simply a question of quantity.
A large room does not necessarily need more furniture. It needs furniture capable of establishing relationships across more space.
That might mean a substantial dining table rather than several secondary pieces.
It might mean a generously proportioned coffee table that gives a large seating arrangement a clear centre.
It might mean allowing a sculptural object enough surrounding space to be understood from a distance.
The objective is not to occupy the room.
It is to give the room structure.
Can a large home still feel intimate?
Yes. Intimacy is created by human relationships and proportion, not by square metres alone.
This is where large interiors can become particularly interesting.
Architecture may be monumental, but the human body has not become larger because the room has.
People still need to sit close enough to talk comfortably.
A coffee table still needs to relate naturally to the seating around it.
A dining table still needs to bring people into a shared experience rather than simply demonstrate how large the dining room is.
That distinction matters.
A spectacular room can photograph beautifully from twenty metres away and still feel uncomfortable once people begin living in it.
Good residential design has to work at both scales.
The architectural scale is what we see. Human scale is what we feel.
Furniture often sits between the two.
It can respond to the volume of the architecture while bringing that volume back towards the dimensions of everyday life.
A large dining table can hold its own within an expansive room, but its real purpose begins when people sit around it.
A substantial coffee table can anchor a broad living area, but what matters is the relationship it creates between the people sitting nearby.
The room may be large.
The moments within it remain human.
Should furniture become larger when the room becomes larger?
Sometimes — but scale should respond to proportion, not simply imitate the size of the architecture.
A small piece can appear lost within a large volume.
But making everything oversized creates another problem.
When every object competes with the architecture, the interior can lose hierarchy. Nothing has room to lead and nothing has permission to be quiet.
Instead, a large room can benefit from deciding which pieces deserve greater scale.
Perhaps it is the dining table because the household gathers there.
Perhaps it is a sculptural coffee table because the living area needs a strong centre.
Perhaps one substantial piece is enough to hold a part of the room while everything around it becomes quieter.
This is where negative space becomes powerful.
In a generous home, empty space is not wasted space.
It can be what allows proportion to become visible.
It creates distance from which furniture can be appreciated. It allows circulation to feel natural. It gives architecture room to remain architecture and furniture room to remain furniture.
The privilege of having more space is not that every part of it needs to be occupied.
It is that everything does not have to compete for room.
Why can an expensive large room still feel empty?
Because cost, size and visual impact cannot replace connection.
A room can contain exceptional materials and beautifully made objects and still lack a centre.
This is not necessarily because it needs another piece of furniture.
It may need a stronger relationship between the furniture already there.
Consider a large living area.
If the sofa, chairs and coffee table are positioned according to the perimeter of the architecture rather than the people using them, enormous distances can appear between objects.
Everything fits.
Nothing connects.
Moving those same pieces into a more deliberate relationship can completely change the experience of the room.
The empty space does not disappear.
It simply moves to where it becomes useful.
Instead of sitting between people, it sits around the furniture.
That is a very different kind of abundance.
What does Miami's climate ask of furniture?
It asks us to think beyond appearance and consider exactly where and how a piece will live.
Miami's climate is not merely part of the view.
It is part of the design brief.
South Florida experiences a warm, wet climate with a substantial rainy season, while strong sunlight is an everyday consideration in highly glazed homes. Those conditions matter because furniture materials do not exist independently of their environment.
Timber responds to changes in atmospheric moisture. As humidity rises and falls, wood absorbs and releases moisture, producing small dimensional changes. Light exposure can also alter wood and furniture finishes over time, which is why prolonged direct sunlight deserves consideration when positioning timber furniture.
That does not mean natural timber is somehow incompatible with Miami.
It means placement matters.
A beautiful timber dining table positioned inside a climate-controlled residence is living in a very different environment from a timber object permanently exposed on an uncovered terrace.
And a room that visually opens completely to the outdoors does not make everything within it outdoor furniture.
That distinction is important in architecture where the visual boundary between inside and outside can almost disappear.
Does furniture near the outdoors need to be outdoor furniture?
Not necessarily. What matters is the actual exposure, not how close the furniture appears to the landscape.
A dining table can sit metres from an open terrace and still live predominantly within a protected interior.
Another piece may sit beneath a covered outdoor area but remain exposed to wind-driven rain, humidity or strong periods of sunlight.
A third may be positioned completely outdoors beside a pool.
Visually, those three pieces might belong to the same architectural composition.
Materially, they are living very different lives.
This is why furniture selection should consider the specific location rather than relying on broad descriptions such as indoor-outdoor living.
Ask what can actually reach the piece.
Direct sun?
Rain?
Pool water?
Salt-laden air in a coastal environment?
Large fluctuations in temperature or humidity?
The answers can influence material, finish, hardware, maintenance and whether a particular piece is appropriate for that location at all.
Good furniture placement begins with understanding the environment the furniture will actually experience.
Is natural stone suitable for Miami homes?
Natural stone can work beautifully in warm and coastal environments, but the particular stone, finish, location and exposure still matter.
This is where the words natural stone can become too broad.
Different stones have different physical properties. Their density, porosity, mineral composition and finish can influence how they respond to a particular application.
The Natural Stone Institute specifically identifies salt atmosphere, extreme heat, immersion and pool or fountain chemicals among the environmental exposures that may require additional consideration when stone is selected and designed for a location.
That is an important distinction.
Stone may feel permanent, but permanence should not be confused with invulnerability.
Sealing can improve resistance to staining for appropriate stones, but a sealer does not make natural stone stain-proof or remove the need to choose the right material for the environment.
For John Leighton stone furniture, we select dense natural stone, use textured surfaces and seal the stone before it enters the home.
But even then, we believe the location should be considered honestly.
A side table inside a living room.
The same table beneath a protected terrace.
The same table permanently exposed beside a pool.
These are not identical applications simply because the furniture is identical.
Material selection should respect climate rather than pretend it does not exist.
How do you make a large living room feel more connected?
Create centres of activity rather than trying to furnish the entire volume.
This is particularly useful in large open-plan homes.
Instead of asking how to fill one enormous room, ask what happens within it.
Where do people sit and talk?
Where is coffee placed?
Where does somebody read?
Where do guests naturally gather before dinner?
Where does the family come together when there is no particular occasion?
Those activities can establish smaller human territories within much larger architecture.
Furniture gives those territories form.
A coffee table can establish the centre of a seating arrangement.
A dining table can create a destination within an otherwise open floor plan.
An étagère can introduce height and structure while still allowing light and sightlines to move through a space.
The architecture can remain expansive without everyday life feeling dispersed across it.
That is the difference between filling space and giving space purpose.
Is more space the same as more luxury?
Only if we define luxury by quantity.
There is another possibility.
Perhaps luxury is not having enough room for more things.
Perhaps it is having enough room around the things we genuinely value.
Enough room to walk around a dining table without navigating furniture.
Enough room for a sculptural form to be understood from more than one direction.
Enough room for twelve people to gather comfortably.
Enough room for children to move through a house while adults remain at the table.
Enough room for friends to stay longer than planned.
Enough room for the home to change as the family within it changes.
Seen this way, abundance becomes less about accumulation and more about possibility.
That feels particularly relevant in large homes because restraint is easy to celebrate when space forces it upon us.
Restraint becomes more meaningful when there was no physical reason to practise it.
What can Miami teach us about abundance?
Perhaps that having more does not remove the need to choose.
It makes choosing even more important.
More space gives furniture room to become substantial.
More light reveals material differently throughout the day.
Larger rooms allow greater distances, stronger forms and moments of deliberate emptiness.
A warm climate can change the way architecture is opened and inhabited.
But none of those things automatically creates a good home.
The decisions still matter.
Where people gather matters.
How far apart they sit matters.
What the sunlight reaches matters.
What the climate reaches matters.
Which materials are appropriate matters.
And what we decide not to put into the room matters too.
There is something beautiful about a home that has the capacity for excess but does not need to demonstrate it.
A substantial dining table with space around it.
A coffee table strong enough to hold the centre of a room.
Natural stone chosen with an understanding of where it will live.
Timber given an environment in which it can endure.
Objects with meaning rather than objects selected to occupy every available surface.
And, around all of them, space.
Not empty space.
Space waiting for life.
Because eventually the architecture will stop being new.
The rooms will stop being photographed.
The furniture will no longer be experienced as a collection of objects carefully positioned within a beautiful interior.
It will simply become where things happen.
Breakfast before everyone leaves in different directions.
Wet footprints after an afternoon by the pool.
Friends moving chairs closer together.
A table becoming crowded during dinner.
Doors open late into the evening.
Children becoming adults.
New people arriving.
Familiar people returning.
Perhaps that is the more interesting meaning of abundance.
Not having more things around us.
Having enough space for more life to happen between them.
Designed to Endure.
John Leighton.
FURTHER READING
STRANG — Miami, Florida
A multidisciplinary architecture, interior design and landscape practice known for environmental modernism and contemporary residences shaped by climate and their surroundings. Its work provides an interesting reference for considering how substantial architecture can remain responsive to South Florida's environment.
strang.design
Bunsa Studio — Miami, Florida
A Miami-based interior architecture and design studio founded by Jennifer Bunsa, with an emphasis on thoughtful, comfortable interiors, natural and handmade materials, and homes that feel genuinely lived in rather than simply presented.
bunsa.studio
Light On White — Miami, Florida
A Miami design studio working across new construction, remodelling, furnishings and art. Its residential work offers another perspective on restraint, proportion and the relationship between contemporary interiors and generous architectural space.
lightonwhite.com
2id Interiors — North Miami, Florida
Led by Rafaela Simoes and Laila Colvin, this Miami-based studio works across residential interiors with particular attention to spatial planning, functionality and the relationship between a client's way of living and the space around them.
2idinteriors.com
Studio IDC — Miami, Florida
A family-owned interior design practice working across South Florida and the Caribbean. Its residential and hospitality work explores warm-climate living through interiors intended to feel considered, comfortable and connected to their location.
studioidc.com
MONIOMI Design — Miami, Florida
Founded by Monica Santayana and Ronald Alvarez, MONIOMI approaches interiors through a bold mixture of colour, form, furniture and collectible design, offering a more expressive perspective on how substantial spaces can develop identity.
moniomi.com
Brown Davis Architecture & Interiors — Miami Beach, Florida
A multidisciplinary practice working across architecture, interiors and landscape design. Its Miami work provides a useful reference for thinking about proportion, comfort, bespoke furniture and the relationship between large-scale architecture and human experience.
browndavis.com
Britto Charette — Miami, Florida
A Miami-based interior design studio specialising in high-end residential interiors, including expansive apartments and residences where space planning, custom furniture, art and large architectural volumes must work together coherently.
brittocharette.com
Studio 790 Interior Design — Miami Shores, Florida
A Miami-based practice working across residential and hospitality projects, with an approach that places particular emphasis on functional planning and the balance between furniture, material and available space.
studio790.com
Assure Interiors — Coral Gables, Florida
A Miami-area residential design practice whose work includes waterfront homes and penthouses across South Florida. Natural materials, interior architecture and the relationship between inside and outside frequently inform its approach.
assureinteriors.com
DLT Interiors — Miami Beach, Florida
A residential interior design studio whose South Florida work explores coastal living through warm timber, texture, neutral materials and interiors intended to balance refinement with everyday comfort.
dltinteriordesigns.com
FL Interiors — Miami, Florida
A Miami-based interior design studio working across residential and hospitality projects, with an approach centred on proportion, architecture, materiality, art and craftsmanship within contemporary spaces.
fl-designstudio.com
John Leighton is not affiliated with the external architects, designers or studios referenced above.
COMMUNITY
Styling News explores the questions that come up when choosing furniture, materials and the way they work within a home. If there is something you would like us to explain in a future article, we welcome the conversation.
At John Leighton we design furniture around natural material, considered form and the belief that the pieces we live with should have a reason to remain.
If you suddenly had twice as much space in your home, would you add more furniture — or give more room to the pieces and people already there?