BEV

On what makes a place feel like ours I used to think homes were built through permanence. Bricks layered on top of each other. A mailbox with your name on it. I’m not sure that’s true anymore. More and more people live between places now. Between cities, sublets,

on AI and the cost of convenience I was never deeply worried about AI taking my job. Not really. I have a quiet belief that humans will always be necessary, in one place or another. So if anything, I thought, it might just change the way I work. Maybe that

FROM SKETCH TO SILK Some careers begin with a straight line. Others bend, split, and redraw themselves. Liv trained as an architect and spent her early years working in an interior architecture firm before deciding to fold her eye for space and structure into something more delicate: silk. With The

We touch to understand a space. Our fingers read architecture the way our eyes read a page: the pull of a latch, the hesitant give of a heavy door, the cold kiss of a window handle in winter. These are not incidental gestures. They form the grammar of living spaces,

ON FALLING BACK IN LOVE I started Bobbie because I wanted to remember why I fell in love with architecture in the first place. Somewhere along the way, that feeling gets harder to hold onto. It’s not because architecture stops being meaningful, it’s because it gets crowded, and