Reflecting on Thirty Years of Design in Jacksonville

Thirty years ago, I started my interior design career in a Jacksonville that was still figuring out what it wanted to be.

In my latest piece for Arbus Magazine, I reflect on what those thirty years have actually taught me. About design, about Jacksonville, and about myself.

It is a candid account of the moments that shaped Studio M, the craftspeople who made excellence possible, the clients who pushed the work further, and a city that quietly delivered more than anyone expected.

Read the full article below:

Thirty Years In: What Jacksonville Taught Me About Design (and Myself)

By Marsha Faulkner, President of ICAA Florida Chapter and Founder of Studio M Interior Design

When I started my interior design career thirty years ago, clients would say they wanted “custom interior design.” What they really meant was semi-custom—a big step above builder grade, sure, but nothing close to the level of bespoke work we create today at Studio M. Back then, Jacksonville was still figuring out what it wanted to be. Honestly, so was I.

I could work from anywhere now. My clients span Florida and the Caribbean. But I choose to stay in Jacksonville, and that choice says everything about what this city has become—and what I’ve become alongside it.

The Nervous Beginning (and the Project That Changed Everything)

Fifteen years ago, when I launched Studio M Interior Design as my own firm, I was nervous. After 15 years of working for others, I finally had the experience and confidence to strike out on my own. But suddenly there was no one to fall back on. The risk was all mine.

One of my first major projects was a San Marco estate—a grand Georgian-inspired riverfront home for a young, growing family. The challenge? They wanted contemporary living in a house that honored classical architecture. A curved staircase that made a statement. Open-plan spaces that felt formal and casual at once. A kitchen built for gourmet cooking and homework chaos. River views through French doors. Timeless elegance that wouldn’t feel precious or untouchable.

I remember standing in that empty shell, mentally placing every piece of furniture, every light fixture, every finish. This was it. My vision. My reputation. My firm.

We created it. Custom cabinetry, carefully curated finishes, rich wood tones against whites and neutrals. A home that told a story of elegance and comfort. More importantly, a home where a family actually lives—loudly, joyfully, messily.

That project taught me something crucial: the best design doesn’t announce itself. It whispers. It works so well you don’t notice all the decisions that make it function beautifully.

The Partners Who Make Excellence Possible

There’s a tile company I work with here in Jacksonville—been partnering with them for decades. When the wrong colorway arrives on a project, they jump into action to immediately make it right. They track down discontinued versions, source alternatives, move mountains to keep us on schedule. As suppliers, their responsiveness and commitment to quality have been invaluable to my practice.

That’s the thing about Jacksonville that outsiders don’t see. We have this ecosystem now—craftspeople who take fierce pride in their work. Cabinet makers who understand that invisible joinery is the mark of true skill. Tile setters who see patterns as puzzles worth solving perfectly. General contractors who protect the design intent when the inevitable conflicts arise.

When I started, that ecosystem barely existed. Designers drove to Atlanta or Miami for high-end materials. Trade relationships were limited. Today, we have access to premium showrooms, relationships with artisans who understand that excellence isn’t negotiable, and a network of suppliers who are true partners in creating beautiful spaces.

We built this together. And I’m not leaving.

The Pinterest Effect (Or: How Clients Got Smarter)

Before Pinterest and HGTV, clients relied heavily on our vision. They’d describe a feeling—”I want it to feel warm but not heavy,” “I want it sophisticated but not cold”—and we’d translate that into reality.

Today? Clients arrive with dozens of inspiration images saved on their phones. They’re educated. Opinionated. They know what a waterfall island is. They have thoughts about grout color.

One of my longtime clients was formerly a graphic designer. Working with her is simultaneously challenging and exhilarating because she questions everything. No detail escapes her eye. Why this brass finish instead of polished nickel? Why this exact shade of white? Have we considered the sight line from the entry?

Some designers find this exhausting. I love it. It keeps us sharp. It forces us to articulate not just what we’re designing but why. And the results? Stunning. Because when a client is that engaged, they’re not just accepting our vision—they’re collaborating to create something that’s authentically theirs.

The flip side? Managing expectations because real craftsmanship takes longer and generally costs more than TV leads us to believe.

The Speech That Nearly Broke Me

Here’s a confession: I’ve always tried to avoid public speaking at all costs. I loathed it with every fiber of my being.

When I became President of ICAA Florida, my first responsibility was to introduce myself as incoming president, close the ceremony, and invite everyone out on the lawn of the Colony Hotel in Palm Beach for a champagne toast.

I choked. I couldn’t feel my feet. My head was buzzing. My tongue was numb. It was mortifying.

But I had one year to improve before it was my turn to be the hostess of the entire ceremony and give opening remarks in front of 300 people.

So I did what any stubborn person would do: I set my mind to conquering it. A year later, I stood in front of that crowd of prestigious ICAA architects and designers and delivered those opening remarks.

And I nailed it.

That moment taught me something about Jacksonville, about design, about myself: growth happens when you stay. When you commit. When you push through the terrifying moments instead of running to other markets.

What “Quiet Luxury” Actually Means

Jacksonville has carved out its own design identity, and I’m proud to have been part of shaping it. Where Miami goes bold and contemporary, where Naples leans formal and British Colonial, Jacksonville gravitates toward what I call “quiet luxury.”

It’s not minimalism—there’s warmth here. It’s not maximalism—there’s restraint. It’s the kind of design that doesn’t shout for attention but makes you feel instantly at ease. Natural materials. Warm neutrals. Southern Coastal sensibility that borrows more from Charleston and Savannah than South Beach.

It’s design that serves the life being lived inside it. Curbless showers that are spa-like, not medical. Wider doorways that feel open and airy, not institutional. Primary suites on the ground floor that are premium features, not concessions. Because here’s what I’ve learned: the best design serves everyone gracefully, not just the able-bodied elite.

We’re designing for young families and empty nesters. Multigenerational households where grandparents live down the hall. Retirees and remote workers. People who chose Jacksonville because they could afford a beautiful life here—not despite where they landed, but because of it.

The Community That Makes It Possible

When Arbus Magazine launched thirty years ago—the same year I started my career—Jacksonville was still finding its creative voice. No Art Walk. No Riverside Arts Market. No CoRK Arts District. MOCA was between locations. The cultural infrastructure that makes a city feel alive barely existed.

Today, MOCA holds nearly 800 works in its permanent collection. Art Walk has drawn over half a million visitors across two decades. Riverside Arts Market draws 4,000 people weekly. The Cultural Council regrants $3.5 million annually to arts organizations that generate $135 million in economic impact.

This matters for design because creativity doesn’t happen in isolation. It emerges from a community that values craft, supports makers, understands that the built environment shapes quality of life in profound ways.

Jacksonville now has the craftspeople, the trades, the vendors, and the design professionals to execute at the highest level. That’s not an accident. It’s the result of three decades of designers, architects, builders, and makers choosing to stay and build something meaningful together.

Why I Stay

I could work from anywhere. But I stay in Jacksonville because this is where the community exists to do the work I love. This is where clients trust the process. This is where craftspeople understand that a quarter-inch matters. This is where a generation of designers, architects, builders, and makers are writing a new chapter in a design story that began with Henry John Klutho rebuilding from ashes after the Great Fire of 1901.

What I’ve learned across 30 years is that the most meaningful design doesn’t announce itself. It works quietly, thoughtfully, inclusively. It creates homes where families gather and do life. Business environments that inspire collaboration. Restaurants where people celebrate milestones.

Jacksonville has a $1.4 billion stadium under construction. A Four Seasons Hotel. Over $3 billion in downtown development actively rising. But the true measure isn’t in those numbers. It’s in the tile setter who sees patterns as puzzles. The cabinet maker who takes pride in invisible joinery. The general contractor who protects the vision when conflicts arise. The designer who stayed when she could have left.

To everyone who has been part of this journey—the clients who trusted the vision, the tradespeople who executed it with skill and care, the vendors who sourced the impossible, the collaborators who elevated every project, and Cinda and the Arbus team who documented it all—thank you.

You are the makers of amazing spaces. And together, we’ve made Jacksonville a place where great design isn’t just possible. It’s expected.

Marsha Faulkner is the founder of Studio M Interior Design and President of the Institute of Classical Architecture & Art Florida Chapter. With thirty years of practice shaping luxury interiors across Florida and beyond, her work has been recognized by Architectural Digest, the American Society of Interior Designers, and publications including Arbus, Florida Design Magazine, and House Beautiful.