Getting Sticky With Gabriella Khalil

Photos by Nuria Rius, Words by AnaMaria Glavan

Post-Covid, there’s been a noticeable rise in boring spaces: endless grey walls and too-pristine white couches. So where can creative people actually work and gather? Offices feel like relics of a pre-pandemic world, and coffee shops were never built for an eight-hour day. Inspiration comes from people. Staring at a screen in a 4x4 apartment just isn’t sustainable.

Enter WSA, a meandering downtown office space that’s quickly become a hub for bright minds and creatives. Designed by the visionary herself, Gabriella Khalil, it’s hardly her first foray into the world of design.

After all, Khalil is the mastermind who turned Palm Heights in Grand Cayman into not just a hotel, but a cultural clubhouse where artists, designers, and big thinkers casually collide. And she doesn’t stop there. Khalil’s spun up ventures in art, design, and publishing, all circling the same core belief: spaces should spark connection and creativity should feel lived in. (Case in point, her refreshingly un-precious take on furniture: “If something gets a stain, it gets a stain.”)

Below, Khalil reflects on IVF, lessons from the museum, and the intentional tradition of Friday night pajama parties. Guests in attendance: herself and her eight-year-old daughter, Grace. Snubbed from the list: smartphones and work emails.

Do you like your doctor?

When I was younger, I wasn’t the type who dreamed of having kids. After I got married, I thought, Okay, maybe I should start trying. But then I had trouble getting pregnant. I went to a doctor, and they told me it would be very difficult for me.

That was the first time my mindset really shifted. Suddenly I realized, Oh my gosh, I’ve always pictured myself with children. It wasn’t until I was faced with the idea that I might not be able to have kids that it became something I wanted deeply.

At the time, I was living in London, and I was around 34 years old. At first, I was casual about it, thinking that if it happens, it happens. But after about six months, my mom suggested I see a doctor to make sure everything was okay. That’s when they confirmed I would have a hard time conceiving naturally.

I first tried IUI, which didn’t work. Then my doctor recommended IVF. I ended up going through three rounds. Each time, the egg retrieval numbers were low, or the embryos didn’t take. It was exhausting.

In the middle of it, I switched doctors. It was funny. I was talking to one of my best friends when she asked, Do you like your doctor? I'm getting this energy that you're not connecting with her. I thought it was a strange thing to say on a phone call, but I couldn’t get it out of my head. In the end, she was right. I liked the original doctor, but when I thought about it, I realized I didn’t feel completely comfortable. Switching made a huge difference and I felt so much better supported.

It ended up being about a two-year journey. I got pregnant with Grace on my very last embryo from the third round. After everything, she really felt like a miracle baby.

Thank you to the muses of Twitter and reality TV

Back then—almost a decade ago—the landscape around fertility was different. I was also living abroad, away from my family, which made the process feel even more isolating. I’ve never been someone who openly shares my hardships, so I was very private about it at first. I leaned mostly on my husband and handled the emotions quietly. I wasn’t talking about this at dinner with friends. 

But over time, that started to weigh on me. The first round I thought, This will work. Then it didn’t. I tried to stay positive, but after more failed rounds, I began to feel really alone. I remember Chrissy Teigen talking openly about IVF around that time, and even Kim Kardashian going through egg freezing. It was strange; I’ve never looked to celebrities for guidance. Seeing women my age publicly sharing their fertility struggles made me realize I wasn’t the only one. 

That encouraged me to start talking about it with friends. Once I did, it was a full-fledged game-changer. People opened up to me in return: Oh, my brother’s wife went through this, or Have you tried acupuncture? Suddenly there were resources and advice everywhere. A whole new world opened up to me. I was upset with myself for not having spoken up sooner. 

Even my doctor ended up feeling like a partner in the journey. He eventually delivered Grace, too, which created such a long, meaningful connection. Being open about it helped me feel like I wasn’t navigating such a scary place alone.

Snubbed from the Friday night guest list: work 

As Grace grew, I started to think more about what my own “brand” of motherhood looks like. I would say I’ve always been very direct and real with her. I’m affectionate and close without babying her. I’ve always spoken to her in a way that makes sense, without sugarcoating everything.

We launched Palm Heights when she was little, so she’s always been around my projects. I don’t think I realized until recently how much that shaped her. She’s grown up with this understanding that my work is hugely important to me and also that she is a part of it. 

When things got busier when we moved to New York, I became intentional about carving out “core memory” moments with her. For example, last winter we started a Friday night ritual: matching pajamas, movie nights, dinner in front of the TV. We’d pick themes—animal movies for a month, then something else the next. It sounds small but it’s become our tradition. These rituals are how I make sure she feels my presence because I can’t always do the daily school pickup routine. 

Grace has been exposed to so much travel and different cultures from an early age. What I hope she gets from that is confidence to interact with all kinds of people, to ask questions, to show real curiosity about someone else’s passions. I’ve already seen her enthusiasm for discovery through people, places, or experiences, and that’s one of the most valuable things she’s picked up.

I don’t guard her from my projects or work. It’s all been part of her life. What I do guard her from is technology. YouTube, phones, that whole world feels much scarier to me. That’s where I’m more protective because those spaces can spiral quickly into things that aren’t right for her age.

Homes are meant to be lived in (we love mess) 

My aesthetic at home is very similar to the projects I design. I love using fabulous pieces—whether vintage or unique—and I’ve never believed in creating a space that feels untouchable. If something gets a stain, it gets a stain. I want people to feel comfortable and to be able to really live in the space.

The one exception has been Grace’s bedroom. I started out with a vision for it and of course she’s completely taken it over. It’s always a mess of toys, art supplies, projects, but it’s also where she’s most herself. I try to focus on storage solutions so the chaos has some order but I let her express herself. It’s her space.

She’s always had a strong creative point of view. Even from a young age, she was incredibly specific with clothes. I assumed I’d be dressing her for years. She quickly took over. Her outfits are wild sometimes and I let her have fun with it—piling on clips, experimenting with colors—because it’s such an important form of self-expression. My job is to guide her, of course, but my job is also to give her the freedom to discover who she is.

She’s grown up around Palm Heights and I think that’s made her proud and inspired. She especially lights up at events, seeing spaces, people, and creative energy. I’ve started pulling her into projects in subtle ways. I was working on a collaboration with Emilia Wickstead and asked Grace which colorway she preferred. She chose the brown and gave me a whole explanation as to why, connecting it to her own sense of style. She loves being part of those conversations.

Night Life at the museum  

I recently took Grace to an exhibition at the Met called Flight Into Egypt. It explored how ancient Egyptian culture has inspired Black artists over the past century in their work, from contemporary art to  music videos and fashion. Since she has Egyptian heritage, it really resonated with her. Interestingly the show wasn't where you might expect—in the ancient Egypt wing of the Met—but in the modern galleries, showing how those references carry into today. She was obsessed. We bought the book, talked about it for weeks. She especially loved the music video references (like the pharaohs in Michael Jackson’s ‘Remember the Time’ ).

I also took her to see Beyoncé's Cowboy Carter tour. It was our first concert experience together and we’d listened to the album for months beforehand. She wore her hat, got ready in full excitement, and then when we got there, she sat silently the entire time and stared at the stage in awe. She didn’t say a word until afterwards, when she couldn’t stop talking about it. It was such a special moment.

Community = overlapping circles 

Community is the most important part of her upbringing. Because we’ve lived in different places, Grace has been part of different micro-communities along the way. Going back to London recently and reconnecting with old friends there reminded me how valuable that is.

Here in New York, I’ve met so many incredible moms and families, and that’s created a strong community for both of us. I try to weave Grace into those worlds not just through her regular social circle, but also by connecting with other families through shared experiences. For example, we’ve gone together to help with the One Love community fridge. I invited some of her friends, and they all packed bags together. It was a fun way of showing her how community can be built around generosity and shared purpose.

To me, “community” is made up of these overlapping circles. Friends in different cities, moms and kids here in New York, and the experiences we create together. It gives Grace a sense of belonging that’s both wide and deeply personal.

“This is okay. I can do it this way” 

Becoming a mom has definitely influenced my creative process. Before, I could work whenever inspiration struck, but now I have to be intentional. My time is divided. When I’m working, I focus deeply, and when I’m with Grace—like on our pajama nights—I put the phone away and am fully present. That shift has actually been a good thing. It forces me to be more deliberate, and it’s given me a new appreciation for balance.

Motherhood has also brought more playfulness into my work. Kids remind you not to take everything so seriously. Grace has shown me the importance of magic, and I try to weave that into my projects even if they’re designed for adults. It’s about creating experiences that feel a little unexpected, a little fun.

There are so many creative moms who inspire me. Especially in New York. I’ve met incredible women, both moms and moms-to-be, who are doing their thing with such confidence and unapologetic energy. Watching them balance their work, families, and lives has been hugely inspiring. It’s pushed me to be bolder myself, to say, This is okay. I can do it this way. There’s also this strong sense of women showing up for each other right now. That’s been incredibly motivating.