I’m Paige Wassel. WAS the Newsletter is your weekly dose of design inspiration, where my lake house is a constant design project my parents bother me about.

Trust the Process

If you’ve been watching my YouTube channel, you probably know about my family’s lake house in Michigan. My parents split their time between there and their condo in Chicago, which is the retirement dream. You get your city fix when you want it—the art, the culture, the great food—and then you disappear into the woods like Bigfoot when you’ve had enough of humanity.

Kinda perfect, if you think about it.

We’ve owned the house for a few years now. Little by little, we’ve chipped away at projects. We painted the exterior, gave the kitchen a facelift, updated the laundry room, and generally worked on making the place feel more like us, while still keeping the charming quirks that make a lake house a lake house, ya know? This place should be about nostalgia and charm and authenticity , so the last thing we want is to turn it into a generic white box that could be anywhere… even though my mom sometimes presents those options and I have to remove her from the group chat.

However, my parents decided to start Airbnb-ing this place occasionally. Cool for them, but we realized those “quirks” are also the kind of thing that could get us snarky guest reviews, so… yeah, we needed some upgrades. We had to take a hard look at the spaces that were maybe charming in theory but less charming in practice. Like, the carpet in the bathrooms. (We’ll get to that.) Also — what is that pizza turtle shell on the wall?

The funny thing about working on this house is that I’m constantly balancing what I would do versus what my parents would do. Most of the time, I try to see them as my clients. I present ideas and they either approve them or look at me like I’ve completely lost touch with reality and I default to what they want. To be fair, some of my ideas sound a little sus at first. “Let’s cover the walls in stained beadboard.” “Let’s buy a weird light fixture off eBay.” “Let’s turn a dresser into a vanity.” None of these suggestions initially inspired confidence.

However, I’ve learned that almost every good renovation has an ugly middle stage where everyone questions the plan. Things are half-finished and my choices can seem like an elaborate game of truth or dare. There’s always a moment when the room looks worse than when I started and people (read: my parents) begin asking nervous questions or texting me at 1AM……….

I’ve also learned that this is exactly the moment when they have to trust the process. My dad’s gotten pretty good at this. My mom… slightly less so. FYI, they’re totally happy now and the guest reviews are going to slap, so here’s how we got there.

Slate Is Great

The powder room was probably the biggest transformation. This is the main bathroom on the first floor, which means every guest sees it. And while I don’t believe that each room in a lake house needs to be perfect, guests should be able to use the bathroom without wondering why there’s carpet next to the toilet. Also, this bathroom was Michigan State themed, designed by the previous owners. And while a nod to the Spartans is fun…. I really only went to one football game and have very little team spirit lol

For this project, I basically told my parents they weren’t allowed to have opinions. Not forever, just for one (TINY) room. Most of the house has been a collaborative effort, but I wanted one little space where I could execute a full vision from start to finish. Mainly so I could photo for my design studio but also because I wanted to show them what I could do without little birdies chirping in my ear. The risk, of course, was that everyone would hate it and it’s all we’re gonna talk about at Christmas.

My first request was beadboard on every wall. My dad immediately realized that what I was describing involved significantly more labor than painting (as per usual) but he installed it anyway. The whole time he kept giving me that look parents give when they’re trying to be supportive while keeping their inner monologue quiet. He also had to rest the stain 4 times until I liked it. It was worth it ok!! Anyways, then came the slate floors.

Listen, I am Team Slate. Slate is incredibly underrated. It’s durable, it’s affordable, it feels rustic, and it somehow still looks in its element when covered in wet towels. This is exactly the kind of energy a lake house should have. From there, the rest of the room became a scavenger hunt. I found a dresser on Facebook Marketplace that we converted into a vanity. My mom thrifted a mirror. I spent an unreasonable amount of time looking for vintage sinks, yet had to settle for something simple due to space constraints. The sconces aren’t vintage, but they look vintage enough to fool most people. I learned quickly my parents don’t want to spend time re-wiring a sconce… also, my mother has an addiction to Amazon that I have learned to accept.

Then there was the ceiling light which became a family dispute. I found it on eBay for around $100 and immediately loved it. My mom immediately hated it, saying she didn’t think it would work. She didn’t understand the vision. It got installed anyway. Within approximately thirty seconds, everyone loved it. I’m always right, is something I say to them often.

Readers Are Leaders

One thing I’ve learned from renovating is that every house has at least one weird space. At the lake house, it’s the landing at the top of the stairs. The issue is that it’s not big enough to be a room, but not small enough to ignore. My parents both love reading, so the plan was to turn it into a little book nook.

One of my dads besties built the shelves and we thrifted pieces. There wasn’t some grand master plan for the space. Understand that not everything in design has to involve custom cabinetry and six months of sourcing. Sometimes you just need a few good pieces and a reason to use the space.

Now when you walk upstairs, the nook feels super intentional and has personality. Have we sat here yet? No. But I like to look at it.

This Is No Place for Carpet

Speaking of flooring choices that should remain firmly in the past… my parents’ bathroom also had carpet. If the idea of people drip-drying on a carpeted surface gives you deep and profound mold anxiety, you are not alone. This room’s reno has been much bigger than the powder room because we’re dealing with a full bathroom overhaul. The biggest casualty was the tulip tub.

Oh, I loved that tub.

Was it practical? No.

Did it take forever to fill? Yes.

Did anyone actually use it? I did once. But it was weird and interesting, which are generally my favorite qualities in anything.

Unfortunately, practicality won and the tub had to go. I briefly entertained fantasies of saving it for a future project. My mom pointed out that tub would sit in the garage for the next decade before eventually ending up in a landfill. So, I gave up the dream… which is good because the tub had to be cut in half to get it out of the house.

The replacement is a stunnin iron clawfoot tub I sourced from a vendor in Michigan and had refinished. We kept the existing vanity because we’re trying to preserve some of the original character wherever we can. New countertops, new slate flooring, updated lighting, refinished fixtures, so we’re close to done. We weren’t looking for this place to feel brand new so much as we wanted the lake house to feel like the version of itself it always should have been.

The Great Outdoors

The final project involved outdoor furniture. Let me ask you this—why is outdoor furniture so expensive? I genuinely don’t understand it. We priced out what it would cost to furnish the deck using pieces from Williams Sonoma and the total came in somewhere north of ten thousand dollars. Five figures for outdoor furniture that geese will absolutely poop on.

I refused to be sucked in by the military industrial home furnishings complex, so I found a design on Pinterest and had a woodworker in Chicago recreate it. We built everything from pine, sourced cushions separately, and ended up with something that feels custom without them spending all my inheritance requiring a second mortgage.

This is definately one of my favorite upgrades. The wood ties into the deck beautifully and the scale just works. The pieces feel substantial without being precious, exactly how outdoor furniture should feel. Nobody wants to worry all summer about whether someone spilled a drink on a cushion, right?

Final Thoughts

I’m so stoked about these renos because lake house still feels like the same place we bought for all its quirky charm. We saved what was worth saving and we didn’t strip the character out of it in pursuit of making everything all shiny and new. It still feels like the lake house, only better. The powder room looks great and the primary bath is coming together. The book nook is new and I’m keeping an eye to see who lands there for a nap. And obviously, the deck furniture is a massive hit.

I’m not saying all of this makes me the favorite child.. but like kinda.

I’m just saying if my parents happen to be sitting in custom furniture, reading books in their little nook, admiring their revenue-generating renovated bathrooms, and talking about what a great vision I had, I won’t correct them.

xx,
P