Meet the person behind   the                             

moodboards!

My approach to creating cool homes for cool people. 

Your home should feel like it evolved over years. Whether you buy everything next month or build slowly over the next year, the plan I create gives you direction so the end result feels authentic and gathered.

Every piece should be there for a reason, whether that reason is functional or aesthetic. But nothing should be so special you're afraid to use it. Beautiful things are meant to be lived with, not displayed behind velvet ropes.

The best homes reflect real lives—your travels, your collections, the things you genuinely love. I'm here to help you figure out what you're drawn to and why, then create a plan that feels like you.

Quality doesn't always mean expensive—it means well-made, timeless, and suited to your actual life. I'll show you where to invest for longevity and where to save strategically, so your home ages well instead of just looking dated.

Perfect spaces feel cold and lifeless. I love patina, wear, the kind of imperfection that adds character. The best rooms have texture, layers, and a little beautiful mess. Your space should feel lived-in and loved from day one.

Good design costs something—I won't pretend otherwise. Quality takes investment. But investment doesn't mean unattainable. It means being strategic. I respect every budget and believe everyone deserves guidance.

collected over time.

intentional, not precious.

your story, not mine.

real budgets, strategic choices.

imperfection adds depth.

built to last, not to impress. 

How did we get here?

Growing up, I wanted to be an interior designer. I redesigned my bedroom far too often (thanks for entertaining that, Mom!), spent hours designing houses on The Sims, and even skipped a day of seventh grade to help my grandmother finish a lake house she was redesigning. But somewhere along the way, I convinced myself that turning something creative into a career would ruin it. So I chose a different path—global health, practicality, a "real" career.

Except design never left. Decorating my dorm room became a serious undertaking, as did my friends' rooms when they recruited me. When I moved into apartments with roommates, the designing expanded to shared spaces—collaborative Pinterest boards, Facebook Marketplace adventures, figuring out how to combine our styles into something that felt more grown-up than a typical college apartment without breaking our budgets.

It started as a childhood dream—the kind you think you have to outgrow...

After graduation, I kept designing—and eventually couldn't ignore it anymore. I designed my own spaces, friends' post-grad apartments, anyone who'd let me rearrange their furniture or curate their gallery walls. I started sharing projects online, creating mockups and moodboards just for fun. Then people I didn't know started asking for help. What began as a hobby—something I did while applying to jobs during the day and working restaurant shifts at night—became impossible to ignore.

I launched Abby Cody Interiors because I kept seeing the same gap I'd experienced myself. On one end was budget-first, trend-driven design where everyone ends up with the same IKEA living room. On the other end were the designers I followed and obsessed over—ultra-custom, dream-home level, completely unattainable. It felt like there should be a way to bridge the two without sacrificing style, personality, or financial reality.

So I built what I wished existed: thoughtful design guidance without traditional barriers. Virtual services that work with real lives and real budgets. Plans you can follow whether you're buying everything tomorrow or collecting pieces over the next year. Design that helps you create a home that feels like you—not a showroom or someone else's Pinterest board.

...and evolved into a business built on what I wish existed.