Chapter 1

Entryway

You’re More Than Welcome

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Welcome to my house! Enter freely. Go safely, and leave something of the happiness you bring!

—Bram Stoker, Dracula

Everybody’s heard about the importance of making a great first impression. It’s a cliché but true. The same thing can be said about your home. And it’s your entryway that offers a first handshake to visitors. Hello—great to meet you. The foyer also greets you, the person who lives there. Nice to see you again—welcome home! At least that’s how we all should feel every time we step inside our homes.

I begin this chapter with the most spectacular entryway I ever set foot in—at least as a kid. I share four things that make every entry more inviting, I offer ideas for freshening up your space, and I detail how to make it shine in less than ten minutes. Let’s get started.

Getting Inspired

Long ago, my mom, our friend Susie, my cousin Bethany, and my six-year-old self were going to optometrist appointments in Ashland, Kentucky—a half-hour drive from our homes in Grayson. I’d never been to the optometrist before, and it turned out the eye doctor’s office was not in some strip mall or bland high-rise but in a glamorous Italianate mansion. (If only every doctor and dentist office were located at an expansive estate, perhaps fewer of us would dread our appointments!)

Because I was just a little kid, every detail of this showplace seemed enormous and all the more grand. Remodeled in 1917 by Alice Jane Mayo, who seemingly had all the money in the world to pour into this incredible estate, the Mayo Mansion has been a landmark in Ashland for more than a hundred years. I remember stepping onto the red-and-white checkerboard marble floor and noticing the word salve embedded there; later I’d learn that it’s the Latin word for hello. What a cheerful welcome!

A grand spiral staircase rose up from the floor to the first landing and then to a second landing where the most incredible ceiling made up of colored glass glimmered overhead—it was actually a dome crafted by the famed Tiffany Studios. Oh, and there was also a small glass elevator to the left, plus marble pillars—one after another—flanking the hallway, elaborate woodwork marching its way across the walls, super-tall wooden doors, and, in the waiting area, a lavish brass chandelier. I was mesmerized.

Even at my young age, I’d seen beautiful houses before. My dad was a contractor, and Mom and I would sometimes visit the homes he was building—some quite impressive. But this was different. This was a Beaux Arts mansion—which just means a mishmash of architecture from the French Neoclassicism, Renaissance, and Baroque periods. At my tender age, I just knew it was beautiful.

I never returned as a patient (I didn’t need glasses until recently—funny how that happens in, ahem, early middle age), but growing up, I brought up that grand house to my mom every time we’d drive by. Remember that staircase? Remember that elevator? Remember that beautiful ceiling?! That doctor’s appointment ranked right up there with Ohio’s Kings Island, the best theme park I ever visited as a kid.

HL Tip: My entryway serves a secret purpose: Using the space underneath the table and behind the floor-length tablecloth, I’ve hidden a shredder. (Don’t do this if you’ve got kids at home or young visitors.) The moment mail comes into our home, we shred the junk mail and envelopes. Some cities’ recycling services can process shredded paper, but not all can. If yours can’t, consider adding it to your compost pile (no glossy paper or envelope windows), repurposing it as pet bedding and donating it to your local vet, adding it as mulch to planting containers, making homemade paper with it, or using it as packing when shipping presents. (Apropos of nothing, my birthday is November 15.)

Then, as a high school senior, I returned to the Mayo Mansion on a class field trip. By then the mansion was serving as the Highlands Museum, a treasury of cultural and historical exhibits. My fellow students and I were there to study the house itself—all seventeen thousand square feet of it. Climbing that spiral staircase, I quickly found new favorite details: a coved ceiling with curved edges where it met the walls, a third-floor ballroom that featured a fireplace, a Tiffany skylight that ran the length of an upstairs hallway, and another Tiffany installation, this time a waterfall scene in a powder room.

Why share all this with you? Because only recently—in fact, only since researching homes and interiors in preparation for writing this book—did it dawn on me that I’ve got my own micro Mayo Mansion entryway.

I live in a narrow 1883 brownstone that was actually built prior to the Mayo Mansion. Step inside and you find a black-and-white checkerboard floor. (Nope, it’s not marble, but still.) There’s a small chandelier sparkling overhead. And while there’s no spiral staircase, an impressive set of stairs leads to the second floor—and another to the third floor. And, just like at the Mayo Mansion, double doors lead into the living room. There’s no ballroom and no Tiffany glass, but I have no doubt that my love of that dazzling entryway subconsciously influenced my decision to buy this house.

Making an Entrance

Earlier, I mentioned setting the stage. And that’s exactly what an entryway does, for better or for worse. That’s true whether it’s a front door, usually the site of package drop-offs and dinner guests, or the back door, where family and friends pile inside or we head out for our day.

An entryway is anticipatory. It gives visitors a glimpse of what to expect in the rest of your home. That’s what’s fun about visiting a friend’s home for the first time. You step inside and think, “Wow” or “Cool” or “Now that’s a surprise. I never would’ve imagined seeing that inside the front door!”

I also associate anticipation with entryways because of Christmas. I remember as a kid standing (or more likely jumping up and down) with my brother, Jarrod, at the top of the stairs while gazing down at the front door. Our parents didn’t allow us to come down the stairs until after Granny Dude and Granddad had carried in all of their Christmas presents and placed them under the tree. In truth, I don’t think we were permitted to join them because our grandparents were in cahoots with Santa, quickly tucking away a few gifts for Christmas morning. (One of the most memorable? An Atari game for the two of us a whole year before Atari really hit it big. Granny Dude always loved techy gifts and being ahead of the trends.)

Take a look at your entryway. Does it make you smile? Does it give a hint about the rest of your home? Is it a formal or lively or calming space that welcomes you inside? Or is its beauty hiding under a bunch of coats, a pile of yesterday’s mail, and a scattering of shoes and boots? Well, that’s to be expected. We lead busy lives. Fortunately, entryways tend to be small and can be whipped into shape quickly.

At my house, there’s both a vestibule that you step into from our front door and then the foyer itself. While the rest of my house is all neutrals—blacks, grays, silvers, and tans—the vestibule’s ceiling and walls are a vivid, cheerful orange. An oval mahogany mirror with carved laurel leaves invites you to check your appearance as you arrive (or as you leave), and there’s one small abstract print. That’s it. Because the space is tiny, it’s also tidy. And the warmth of the orange feels like a hug as you step inside. (If I ever have the chance to retile, I’m going to work in that Latin word salve—oh, and a heated floor.)

Time to Freshen Up

Imagine your entryway right now. What are its colors? What art is included? What items help you start and end your day? What does it feel like when you’re standing in the space? I promise: Every entryway can be made more inviting, more welcoming, and more livable by incorporating these four things:

  1. something beautiful
  2. something scented
  3. a place to drop your keys and mail
  4. a place to hang up your coat

I bet your entryway has at least a few of these items already. Ensure your foyer features all four items, so you can achieve a beautiful and organized space.

Something beautiful might be an original painting, a framed poster, or your kid’s latest creation. Or it might be a colorful wallpaper backdrop, an antique trunk, or a living greenery wall. And there may be overlap; for example, something beautiful might also be something scented, say a glorious bouquet. Or something scented might be a candle or an essential oil diffuser. A place to drop your mail might be a terrific teak tray or a colorful basket, while your keys are plunked on a whimsical hook or dropped into a pottery bowl made by a local artist or a grandchild. And finally, a place to hang up coats might be a small entryway closet, a good-looking hall rack, or a minimalist wooden peg.

While I’m imagining a small-scale entryway—what most of us have in our homes—entryways can make us feel at home, at ease, and welcome even on a grand scale. Not long ago I was staying at the iconic Essex House in New York City. As I walked into the Art Deco lobby, I heard someone yell, “I love you!” And the woman just ahead of me blew kisses in the general direction of the caller.

Despite the glamour of the space, that warm and welcoming environment put me right at ease and, before I knew it, I was joking aloud with both of them: “Now that’s how I expect to be greeted!”

The woman ahead of me then turned around to face me. “Yeah, isn’t that something?!” she said, smiling. In a flash, I recognized her as a statuesque reality TV star.

“Oh, it’s you!” I said with a smile. “I fully understand. But I still expect to be greeted that way.” She laughed and we kept chatting until we stepped onto our separate elevators, hers headed to a much higher floor.

Why did this lobby make me feel so welcome and at home—relaxed enough to address strangers? I think, in part, it’s because it included all of those four items: standout art and a mirrored table (both beautiful items) topped by a heavenly bouquet (something scented), crystal chandeliers (more beautiful stuff), and a desk clerk to hand you your room key (the designated place for your keys). It even has checkered flooring à la the Mayo Mansion. The only thing missing was a place to hang my coat, but I bet the concierge would’ve hung on to it for me if I’d asked nicely. Sure, I’m an extrovert, but had that space been cold, sterile, and bland—say, like many a hospital corridor—would I have felt bold enough to address those two strangers? And would that fan have felt courageous enough to yell, “I love you!” in the first place? I doubt it.

The lesson? Whether you’ve got a twelve-square-foot vestibule or a five-thousand-square-foot lobby, you can achieve a welcoming environment with a few simple details. Take a fresh look at your entryway and consider:

Dressing to Impress

Once you understand the various items needed, it’s just a matter of finding pieces that work together to complement the rest of your home. Imagine your living room wallpaper as a brightly colored sweater. Just like you use one of the sweater’s colors to help you decide on a shirt to wear underneath and another color to select a pair of pants, you can pull a color or two from that living room wallpaper into your foyer. In the same way, you might give a nod to that touch of whimsy in your kitchen in the foyer. Or maybe you like a preppy look? How about your green thumb? You get the idea. The space should be about you and the rest of your home.

Let’s consider a couple of entryways as examples: Say you love a funky look, so you hang a velvet Elvis print over a red leather trunk you found at an estate sale. Now you’ve got two beautiful items. (Yes, he’s beautiful. It’s the young Elvis after all—a hunk, a hunk of burnin’ love.) Next, you top the trunk with a vintage ashtray for your keys and a woven basket for your mail. Fortunately, you’ve got an entryway closet, so your coats are taken care of. Now you just need something that smells good: maybe a bouquet from the grocery store today and flowers from your garden next week.

Or maybe your foyer offers a twist on a traditional look, with striped wallpaper and a horse-themed print, both in an updated color palette, like Warhol pop colors. But your entryway is so tiny that you can barely change your mind let alone your shoes in the space. No worries. A gilded mirror (something beautiful) instantly makes the space look larger—plus, it lets you take a quick peek at yourself as you head out the door. (Coco Chanel is widely quoted as saying, “Before you leave the house, look in the mirror and take one thing off.” I always suggest adding one more.) A super-narrow Queen Anne console takes up little floor space but accommodates a narrow lacquered tray perfect for your mail, your keys, and a citrus candle (something scented). And a trio of hooks takes care of your coat, hat, and handbag. (My friend Mary would flip if I’d written “purse.” Her rule: “You purse your lips. You carry a handbag.”)

While your entryway may look lovely and feel inviting, it also does some heavy lifting, accommodating coats, shoes, hats, and more. Most homes—from condos to castles—have an entryway closet. But if storage space in your home is golden, consider using that closet to store off-season jackets, cleaning supplies, even your vacuum. Then dedicate a few wall hooks for the coats and hats you’re wearing each season. A friend with three kids keeps a giant basket in her entryway—in the summer, it holds baseball caps; in the winter, it’s piled high with hats, mittens, and gloves.

If you’ve got a bit more space, a hat rack or coatrack can hold all these items, plus those of visitors. Numerous styles and sizes of racks exist, from ones hung on walls to traditional single-pole styles.

Then there are more substantial pieces of furniture called hall trees; they come in all styles and sizes, from freestanding minimalist versions to built-in traditional styles and elaborate antique models. First made popular in the late 1800s before hallway closets were popularized, this one-man-band of the entryway usually features a mirror, hooks, a bench, and cubbies to hold hats, coats, bags, umbrellas, walking sticks, and more.

HL Tip: Here’s a fun and stylish idea for your rain and snow boots: Buy a couple of jelly-roll pans, which feature straight edges, and line them up in your entryway. Fill them with smooth river rocks (you can buy a bag of them at a landscape nursery). Then set those wet or snowy boots atop these trays; the water will drip right through to the bottom of the pans rather than drip onto your floor. Periodically, just rinse off the stones and the pans, and return them to the entryway.

Today, prices range the gamut, from a couple of hundred dollars for a new wood hall tree to thousands of dollars for antique versions—often hand-carved out of walnut or mahogany, or cast of iron—possessing drawers, marble shelves, and even hidden compartments. In many newer houses, some version of a hall tree is often employed in the mudroom, whether freestanding or built right in.

Looking back at my early love for the Mayo Mansion entryway, it turns out I’m still smitten. And for good reason: That space opened my eyes to possibilities—not only for what a foyer might look like but also for décor, size, scale, functionality, and more.

What comes to mind for you as your dream entryway? I hope it’s your own—or will be soon. Or perhaps it’s one that made an impression on you long ago? Maybe a friend’s entryway you saw during a childhood playdate, perhaps one in a snug cabin you visited as a teen, a beachy or modern entryway you saw on vacation, or, like me, the foyer of a historic mansion. Close your eyes and imagine it. Go ahead, I’ll wait.

Now think about what feeling you want your own entryway to convey. What’s waiting for you as you open the door? How does it feel as you walk in? What do you see on the floor, the walls, the ceiling?

This book is all about helping you achieve such visions. Maybe you’re not in love with your current home or your current entryway. Remember that Stephen Stills song “Love the One You’re With”? You may move to another home or several in your future. But meanwhile, it’s time to love the one you’re in, to live as if you love this current home. And beginning with your entryway is a great place to start. Thanks to your personal choices, your entryway can be as unique and beautiful as you are.

Time to Clean Up

When’s the best time to clean this welcoming space? Right after ordering delivery of egg drop soup and cashew chicken on a Friday night. While the rest of the house is a bit Grey Gardens—Legos scattered all over the living room floor and dishes piled high in the kitchen sink—your newly cleaned entryway will feel peaceful and calm. No doubt your delivery person will think you live like Jackie O., her incredibly stylish sister, Lee, or Beyoncé.

SHOES OR NO SHOES?

Learning about entryways in other cultures can help inform our choices. Let’s consider the traditional Japanese genkan. (While I’m by no means an expert, I admire and respect Japanese culture.) A genkan is an entryway where homeowners and visitors remove their shoes. Traditionally, doing so ensured families didn’t track dirt onto the tatami, or straw mats. This tradition is found elsewhere too. When I moved to Minnesota, I’d been invited to a friend’s house and was hanging out in the living room when another friend alerted me that I should’ve removed my shoes in the entryway.

While few Minnesotans keep a tatami room, the northern climate does feature snow, ice, mud, and dirt. So it’s no wonder most follow the shoe-removal practice. I even know of a woman who keeps a basketful of loaner slippers in her entryway during the winter months for visitors with cold tootsies.

Asking visitors to remove shoes is practically unheard of among the Southerners I grew up with. Indeed, I can’t imagine Granny Dude or my mom asking anyone to remove their shoes. But maybe they should have. According to environmental chemists Mark Patrick Taylor and Gabriel Filippelli (“Wearing Shoes in the House Is Gross,” The Washington Post, April 3, 2022), who’ve studied the practice, they say “about a third of [the matter building up inside your home] is from outside, either blown in or tramped in on those offensive shoe bottoms.” This includes drug-resistant pathogens, difficult-to-treat germs, cancer-causing asphalt road residue, endocrine-disrupting lawn chemicals, and potentially toxic metals. For that matter, they also recommend wiping off your pets’ paws before they come indoors.

I’ve never been a fan of removing shoes—they make my outfit after all. But now that I know this, I may come around.

The Ten-Minute Clean: Entryway

Got ten minutes or, more likely, five? That’s all you need to make your entryway shine. In fact, your foyer can get by week after week, if need be, with this speedy approach. This quick clean is easy-peasy pecan pie. Plus, if you’re pressed for time, it’s nice to have a list to follow:

  • First, set aside shoes, coats, and the rug to prevent dust from landing on them.
  • Next, spray a microfiber cloth or old newspaper with a 50/50 vinegar-water solution, and wipe down your mirror and/or any glass-framed artwork. And dust any items on your entryway table plus the table itself. Everything will look instantly better!
  • Sweep or vacuum the floor, and shake out the rug outdoors or over a trash can before returning it to the space, along with the shoes and coats.
  • If you’ve got a bouquet, throw out any dead flowers and refill the vase with fresh water.
  • Done! Look at that—you’ve got an extra three or so minutes. No, don’t start cleaning another room. It’s time to pour a glass of wine. Salut!

Adding That Element of Fun

As Julie Andrews recommended in Mary Poppins, adding fun to your chores is key. For me, I find the fun with ten-minute (or less) cleaning playlists I make (with help from my partner, Ross) for every room in the house. Maybe you’d rather listen to an audiobook or podcast. You do you. But if music moves you, feel free to crank my playlists.

Or make your own: Keep each list to a few songs, roughly equaling ten minutes. Over time, I begin to know, for example, that I should be dusting by the beginning of “Just Can’t Get Enough.” And by the time “You Spin Me Round” wraps, snap—as Mary Poppins would say—I’m done.

My Ten-Minute Cleaning Playlist: Entryway (upbeat)

  • “Break My Stride” by Matthew Wilder (3:00)
  • “Just Can’t Get Enough” by Depeche Mode (3:40)
  • “You Spin Me Round (Like a Record)” by Dead or Alive (3:19)

My Ten-Minute Cleaning Playlist: Entryway (mellow)

  • “Holding Back the Years” by Simply Red (4:29)
  • “You’re the Best Thing” by the Style Council (5:40)

CHEAP FRILLS

I remember a beautiful winter day back in college. The snow was falling and I was meandering my way back home. Along the way I found a downed magnolia branch, at least four feet long, that was practically architectural.

No matter that my apartment was still blocks away—I was determined to drag the branch home, making an artistic path through the snow. Once home, I found just the right container: a heavy old garden pot decorated with painted lichen and glazed on the inside. I filled it with water and plunked the branch in, knowing that as long as the dormant branch had water, it would last for weeks. Placed on a table, the pot enabled the massive branch to lean against the wall. I knew it would be striking, but I hadn’t realized how beautiful its glossy green leaves would look in candlelight. It’s a fond memory still.

Bouquets aren’t the only flowers you can use to decorate your entryway. And your choice doesn’t need to be expensive. Consider bringing home branches or leaves discovered on a woodsy walk or clipped from shrubs right outside your back door. Doing so costs nothing, brings the outdoors inside, and changes the energy in any room, especially an entryway. What could be more welcoming right inside your front door?