House of Honey: Tamara Kaye-Honey

Storytelling has always been at the heart of my work. It’s never just about how a space looks— it’s about how it feels and the story it tells. Whether I’m working on a cozy bungalow or a bustling restaurant, the essence remains the same: craft something soulful, unexpected, and deeply personal.

We lead with empathy and curiosity. Our female-led team is unafraid to blend intuition with rigor—reading between the lines of what’s said, and what isn’t—to uncover the emotional heart of a project. We’re collaborative to the core and we design with a deep sensitivity to how people actually inhabit space.

I listen more than I speak. I watch how they navigate a room, where they pause, what they reach for without thinking. Sometimes it’s a throwaway remark about the way afternoon light hits a wall or the need for a spot to kick off shoes—that becomes the thread we pull. Those small, almost invisible habits are where the real design opportunities hide, waiting to be elevated into something intentional.

We embrace the imperfect. A space should invite you to live in it, not tiptoe around it. We layer in tactile materials, soulful objects, and layouts that encourage movement and conversation.

I love when a piece works harder than it looks— like custom millwork that hides a workspace or a velvet banquette that also offers hidden storage. Beauty seduces you first, but function is what makes you fall in love for good.

One of our very first acquisitions for our latest Beverly Hills project was a taxidermied albino peacock—hardly the kind of “small detail” most people start with. But for us, that singular object set the tone for the entire project. Its rare, otherworldly beauty became both the muse and metaphor, inspiring a design language that balanced the opulent with the unexpected. From palette to pattern, we allowed that ethereal bird to guide us toward a space that felt simultaneously decadent and a little surreal. What began as a striking objet d’art ultimately shaped the larger narrative of the house: a home that is as fearless and unconventional as the peacock itself.

A home is a love letter to the people who live there—intimate, idiosyncratic, often a little vulnerable. Hospitality, on the other hand, is theater. You’re crafting an atmosphere for strangers to fall into, so it needs to be more performative, yet still authentic. Both demand emotional resonance, but the scale of the storytelling shifts.

It’s a dance between confidence and comfort. We’re not afraid of strong color, sculptural furniture, or dramatic gestures— but we temper it with warmth, touchable textures, and human scale.

We approach design as a nuanced sensory experience. The texture of linen, the scent of cedar, the warmth of layered lighting—each element is intentional. It’s not just about visual impact, but creating a space that resonates on multiple levels and lingers in memory.

Continuing to chase what we love most— reinvention. We’re currently rebuilding roots in Altadena and the Palisades and stirring things up across the pond with a bold new commercial project in London. We’ve never been one to stay in one place… or play it safe.