The truth of the matter is being gay is the way I was born. I believe this to the core of my being.

I was a boy with one dream and one dream only: I wanted - no, strike that, I was desperate for - a room of my own. You see, in those days I shared a room with my little brother, Jesse, and it wasn't pretty. He was the Oscar to my Felix: messy, careless, and just a little bit sticky - exactly the way a kindergartner is supposed to be.

When you have a bunch of comfortable upholstered pieces, a single bronze or brass chair really turns the energy up.

Home has always been one of the most important things. If I don't feel at home in my space, then I feel really unmoored.

I see it every day: People trying to create a home that somebody else tells them they should have. I don't care if it's a magazine or a bossy friend - when somebody says, 'This is what's elegant, this is what's trendy,' if it doesn't represent you, you're not going to be happy.

I can change a light fixture, and I can do certain things. But I'm really bad in terms of construction. I can't do any of it on my own.

I made my parents crazy. As a kid, I redecorated my bedroom every month. I would literally save my allowance and go buy things.