The Bernard Edit No. 02

A NOTE FROM JOSHUA

ON CHANGE & PERSPECTIVE

October has brought its fair share of unexpected changes and, perhaps more importantly, a shift in perspective.

I’ve been thinking about how new chapters often introduce circumstances we neither anticipated nor asked for. Some might call them obstacles. Others see challenges. I’m learning to recognize them as opportunities.

I’ve joked with those closest to me that this season feels strangely reminiscent of my experience during Kips Bay. Navigating unfamiliar territory, confronting unexpected challenges, and occasionally wondering what exactly I’d gotten myself into. Yet somewhere along the way, I realized the experience was about something greater than the project itself. It was an opportunity to discover what I was capable of, both personally and professionally.

I’m realizing that growth rarely arrives in the form we expect. Sometimes it requires reconsidering our perspective, embracing uncertainty, or recognizing that what initially feels like a setback might actually be moving us forward.

As we approach the end of the year, I’d encourage you to consider the changes unfolding in your own life. There’s something powerful about choosing to grow through those experiences rather than allowing circumstances to make that choice for us.

For me, this season is already producing something beautiful: new perspectives, unexpected opportunities, and a renewed sense of creative curiosity.

I’m looking forward to sharing what comes from it.

THE SHORT LIST

Places, discoveries, and experiences worth sharing.

01. MAMAN | NEW YORK CITY

I’ll admit it. I’m shamelessly a Starbucks person.

So when a few business contacts suggested meeting at Maman during my most recent trip to New York, I wasn’t expecting to discover a new favorite.

Despite its presence in several major cities, I’d somehow managed to miss it until now.

The interiors are light, airy, and thoughtfully curated, balancing beauty with functionality. The pastries are exceptional, breakfast equally impressive, and the service makes an ordinary coffee stop feel like something of an occasion.

I’ve always believed that how a space makes you feel is just as important as how it looks. Maman understands that beautifully.

I’m hoping it finds its way into my regular rotation.

02. ELIZABETH | PORTLAND, MAINE

Earlier this month, my boyfriend and I spent a long weekend in Portland, Maine, celebrating his parents’ 40th wedding anniversary. One particular dinner has stayed with me.

Elizabeth is the kind of restaurant that reminds me why I love dining out.

Intimate, dimly lit, and thoughtfully designed, the space invites you to settle in. An open kitchen brings energy to the atmosphere, while the French cuisine strikes a beautiful balance between sophistication and simplicity.

The wine pairings were phenomenal, the cocktails refreshingly uncomplicated, and the service knowledgeable without feeling overly formal.

It’s also the kind of restaurant where you leave smelling faintly of everything happening in the kitchen, and somehow, you don’t mind.

Despite feeling a little under the weather that evening, I thoroughly enjoyed myself.

Some restaurants are memorable for their food, others for their atmosphere. Elizabeth manages to make the two inseparable.

03. ANTIQUE RESOURCES | CHICAGO

It’s certainly no secret that I have an affinity for antiques.

As Chicago increasingly feels like home, I’ve particularly enjoyed discovering the city’s extraordinary design resources. One favorite, courtesy of my boyfriend’s recommendation, is Antique Resources.

Spanning approximately 18,000 square feet, the showroom offers an impressive collection of furniture, lighting, paintings, silver, china, and decorative objects, with pieces dating as far back as the 17th century.

The selection is extensive yet remarkably organized, the pricing varied, and the service exceptional.

You can arrive searching for something specific or simply hoping to discover something you didn’t know you needed. Personally, I find the latter considerably more exciting.

As my work continues expanding in Chicago, I’m looking forward to incorporating more of these discoveries into contemporary interiors.

After all, some of the most interesting spaces are those that embrace a little history.

THE STUDY

THE ART OF THE CURVE

Lately, I’ve noticed a recurring element finding its way into my work, sometimes without my even realizing it.

Curves.

Not necessarily the exaggerated silhouettes so prevalent in contemporary furniture, but something subtler. The softness of a line, the movement of a form, or an unexpected curve that changes the feeling of a space.

In a recent powder room, I introduced arches into an otherwise rectangular space. Elsewhere, rounded chandeliers and softly curved chair backs bring movement to more linear interiors.

Neither decision was particularly calculated. They simply felt right.

While developing concepts for a project in New York, I’ve become particularly drawn to Paul Mathieu’s Aria collection, where fluid, almost feminine silhouettes are rendered in bronze, creating a compelling contrast between softness and strength.

I’ve also developed an appreciation for Hervé Van der Straeten, whose background in jewelry design informs his remarkable understanding of form and proportion.

While curved furniture has certainly enjoyed its moment, I’m more interested in exploring softness through less expected applications.

For me, it’s becoming less about the curve itself and more about the relationship between structure and movement.

Perhaps the most compelling spaces are those that know when to soften their edges.

WOULD SPECIFY

THE ARIA CLUB CHAIR | PAUL MATHIEU

Every so often, I encounter a piece of furniture that stays with me long after I’ve left the showroom.

During my most recent visit to Ralph Pucci International in New York, I discovered Paul Mathieu’s Aria Club Chair, and I haven’t quite stopped thinking about it.

Admittedly, with a price tag comparable to a very nice luxury car, it isn’t exactly an everyday furniture selection. But I don’t believe it was intended to be.

Cast in bronze with a horsehair-upholstered cushion, the chair embodies a contrast I find particularly compelling. Its materiality is substantial, yet its silhouette remarkably soft and feminine.

The sweeping curves create an effortless sense of movement despite the weight of the material.

It’s as much sculpture as it is furniture.

What fascinates me about pieces like this is how a designer’s perspective, translated into an object, eventually becomes part of someone else’s personal story.

I haven’t yet found the right opportunity to specify it, but I certainly hope to.

Some pieces simply fill a space. Others give you a reason to remember it.

ON MY RADAR

THE BEAUTY OF WHAT REMAINS

I’ve always appreciated historic architecture, but lately I’ve found myself considering its preservation through a different lens.

From a 19th-century walk-up in Maine to a historic hotel in New York, I’ve become increasingly fascinated by the relationship between how buildings were originally designed and how we expect to live in them today.

As I’ve been exploring homes for myself, many dating back to the 1920s, I’ve noticed how often renovations sacrifice the very character that makes these properties compelling.

Original millwork disappears, architectural details are simplified, and spaces that once possessed distinct identities become almost indistinguishable from new construction.

I understand the desire for modern convenience, but I don’t believe functionality should come at the expense of architectural integrity.

I’ve developed a greater appreciation for the designers, developers, and homeowners willing to embrace the challenges of historic preservation. Working within an existing structure requires creativity, patience, and an understanding that some things are worth keeping.

These buildings have stood the test of time for a reason. Their craftsmanship, proportions, and character offer something that cannot always be replicated, regardless of budget.

Sometimes the most compelling design isn’t about creating something new, but recognizing the beauty of what’s already there.

POSTCARD

PORTLAND, MAINE

Growing up in Southeast Arkansas and spending much of my life in Texas, New England was somewhere I’d experienced more through photographs and films than in person.

Earlier this month, my boyfriend and I spent a long weekend in Portland, Maine, celebrating his parents’ 40th wedding anniversary.

I was immediately taken by the changing leaves, historic architecture, crisp autumn air, and distinct sense of identity woven into everyday life.

We wandered through antique shops, met lifelong residents, admired beautiful homes along the bay, and spent an afternoon sailing. There was something particularly special about experiencing the coastline from the water, where everything seemed to move a little slower.

And, of course, there was the food.

My boyfriend managed to eat lobster what felt like three times a day, while I found myself equally captivated by the restaurants.

Beyond our memorable dinner at Elizabeth, we secured a last-minute reservation at Scales, where the interiors were coastal without being kitschy, the service exceptional, and every plate passing our table made me reconsider my order.

The shopping was another pleasant surprise. Beautiful menswear boutiques and vintage shops made wandering especially enjoyable. I even found a suede bomber jacket with a shearling collar for $75, which may have been my favorite purchase of the trip.

But beyond the restaurants, shopping, and scenery, what stayed with me was the calmness of the place.

Perhaps it was the changing seasons or simply being somewhere unfamiliar, but Portland encouraged me to slow down and pay closer attention to my surroundings.

As I continue incorporating personal experiences and photography into my creative process, I’m realizing how valuable those quieter moments can be.

I returned home with plenty of photographs, a new jacket, and more than a few ideas.

Sometimes inspiration finds us when we finally slow down enough to notice.

UNTIL NEXT TIME

This last quarter has brought more change than I anticipated, both personally and professionally, and I’ve become increasingly curious about how those experiences shape my work.

Some months have me reflecting on where I’ve been, others on where I’m going. What I hadn’t expected was how quickly The Bernard Edit would become an outlet for exploring those perspectives.

I’m grateful for the industry peers who inspire me, the clients who challenge me, and the people closest to me who continue to broaden my point of view.

During a recent discovery call, a prospective client casually asked, “Where’s your October Edit?”

I have to admit, I was both surprised and flattered.

When I began this newsletter, I simply hoped to share a glimpse into the things that inspire me beyond my finished projects. Knowing someone I’d never met was genuinely looking forward to the next installment made the experience particularly meaningful.

I don’t know exactly what The Bernard Edit will become, and I rather like that.

For now, I’m grateful to have you along for the journey.

Until No. 03,

Joshua

JOSHUA BERNARD

Joshua Bernard Design