At Home with Kerri-Lee: Bring Vacation Home with You

At Home with Kerri-Lee: Bring Vacation Home With You

Written and Photographed By Kerri-Lee Mayland   

There’s a reason certain places stay with us long after the suitcase is unpacked. Sometimes it’s the salt air in Nantucket, a tucked-away café in Barcelona or a village market in the South of France. Or maybe it is the memory of a summer road trip out west with mornings in the high desert near Santa Fe, camp coffee by a lake, and canvas tents and lantern light under the stars. Travel sharpens the eye. We notice color, texture, rituals and ways of living. And often, we return wanting to bring some of that spirit home.

I’ve long believed some of the best decorating ideas are gathered, not bought.

For years, my family has met dear friends — whose son became friends with mine in preschool — in a tiny town along the Tour de France route overlooking Cannes and not far from Saint-Tropez. There is glamour nearby, but it is the little market I wait for. I always stop for simple wooden kitchen utensils and French dish towels woven in faded stripes. They tuck easily into a suitcase.

Nothing extravagant, nothing precious. Yet every time I pull one from the drawer, I feel a small lift of happiness. That may be the best kind of souvenir —something beautiful, useful and threaded into daily life.

Travel inspiration rarely comes home in grand gestures. More often it arrives quietly. In a linen napkin. A basket. A ceramic bowl. A color palette you can’t forget.

A New England escape may send you home craving weathered woods, ticking stripes and the easy elegance of coastal simplicity. Fold that into summer with blue-and-white pillows, woven trays, hurricane lanterns, or a bowl of collected shells. Let hydrangeas tumble from a pitcher. Let the house feel breezier.

European travel offers another kind of lesson. In France, kitchens hold crocks of wooden spoons and humble linens used every day. In Spain, I think of sun-washed plaster walls, hand-painted tiles, olive jars, and the effortless way indoor and outdoor living blur together. A striped cloth on the table, terracotta pots planted with herbs and ceramic pitchers filled with branches — sometimes it takes very little to recall that Mediterranean warmth.

Then there is the calm restraint of Scandinavia. In Denmark and Sweden, beauty often comes through simplicity: pale woods, natural textures, candlelight and edited rooms that somehow still feel deeply warm. It’s a wonderful reminder that bringing vacation home sometimes means subtracting, not adding. That’s a design lesson worth packing.

I love using travel finds not as display pieces, but as working parts of the house. A French market basket becomes magazine storage. A Spanish ceramic bowl holds fruit. A Scandinavian cutting board leans by the stove. They carry memories because they are touched.

Even American travel can inspire. The earthy tones of Santa Fe, the layered rusticity of a Montana lodge, even the practical charm of RV life — with enamelware, lanterns and clever storage — can shape how home feels. Inspiration doesn’t have to come from overseas.

One of my favorite summer rituals is what I think of as the souvenir edit. Instead of tucking travel treasures away, gather them. A shell from a beach walk, flea market candlesticks, pottery from a trip abroad, framed postcards. A collection begins telling a story.

Summer is also the perfect season to let travel influence the lighter side of decorating. Swap heavier accessories for linen and woven textures. Bring in striped napkins, rattan trays, lighter bedding. Set the table as though friends might drop by.

And perhaps borrow not just the objects, but the atmosphere.

The best places we visit often share a certain ease. Doors open to breezes. Meals stretch longer. Candles are lit on ordinary nights. Rooms feel collected, not overdone. Bring that home.

If I have one caution, it’s to not over-theme. A home should never feel like a souvenir shop. Better to borrow a material, a habit, a palette or a feeling. Sometimes it is as simple as a French dish towel waiting in a drawer.

And every time you reach for it, summer returns.