At their inception, online platforms like Instagram and Pinterest, showcasing images of aspiring homes, were evocative and inspiring. Almost 15 years later, I think they’re killing off our individual imaginations for a collective race to the recognizable middle of the road – and are creating a kind of graveyard for the individual whimsy we once took for granted. 

A high school friend grew up in a rambling Chestnut Hill home. This house, like many treasures in our area, had 5,000 square feet of countless quirky features including odd-sized rooms and doors, funky hardware and a hidden back staircase.

After a massive renovation, I was struck by how much the house now feels like any other you've seen countless times on Instagram. Like heirloom fruits and vegetables that once had the distinct and rich flavors of their region, has "design" become like Red Delicious and Granny Smith apples – a common denomination of easily recognizable choices?

Many design elements are now being installed in houses for no reason other than to check off the box of common appeal, with no relevance to the individual property, or its characteristics. Houses have souls, and many are screaming.

A few examples of the low-hanging fruit of social media-driven design:

Open-plan kitchens 

These usually come with three pendant lights over an island. Historic houses weren't meant to have open kitchens with five-seat bar-height counter stools. Why not a kitchen table instead? The opportunity to close the door on a mountain of Thanksgiving dishes has its merits.

Sliding barn doors:

If a door is of an unusual size and salvaged from the carriage house, bring it on. If it's a Home Depot door hung for no reason on a powder room, no bueno. The lack of sound protection is an added bummer.

Light fixtures with Edison-style light bulbs in a brass baton, an empty box or a clear glass orb:

These light fixtures are the poster child of the design zombie apocalypse. They also always look dusty.

Navy cabinets and brass handles

In 2012, navy blue base kitchen cabinets with brass handles and brass faucets felt interesting. These were the chosen materials for the kitchens in New York City's newly renovated Chelsea Hotel units. What would Patti and Robert have to say about this?

The first time I saw a brass fixture, I was reading Dwell magazine. It was a unique project by a couple in NYC. Their kitchen had a brass faucet. I tore out the page. This was how outstanding details used to hold a place in our creative vision, instead of being flashed to us on our phones over and over.

In "Confessions of a Cleaning Lady," local domestic goddess Lois Volta puts it this way:

"The house sees and holds it all. It is volatile, alive and subject to change, just like the people within it. It hears arguments and registers neglect: it carries trauma, depression and illness, all the while striving for restoration and wholeness."

What would the ghosts of your house have to say?

Val Nehez is the owner and principal designer at Studio IQL in East Falls, which you can find at StudioIQL.com and on Instagram at studio_iql or for smaller projects quickandlovely_design.