Making a workspace feel like your own is a universal desire, even for those we see every morning on our screens. As someone who spends countless hours reporting on the world's events, I understand the profound need for a personal haven within the professional hustle. My own journey to transform my office at 30 Rockefeller Plaza began in 2024, as I prepared for the grueling marathon of covering the presidential election. The prospect of weeks filled with legal battles and political turmoil made me look around my sterile, corporate space and think, "This is just too sad to be in here all day. This could be better." That simple thought sparked a months-long renovation, a project of reclamation and personal expression that turned a generic office into an extension of my home.
The catalyst was a simple rug purchased on sale, but it unlocked a vision. I decided that if I couldn't control the chaotic news cycle, I could absolutely control my immediate environment. Out went the standard-issue corporate furniture, replaced by pieces that spoke to me. A gorgeous, curved white desk from CB2 became my command center, while a plush, inviting sofa from Article offered a respite. I covered the walls, which office rules forbid me from painting, with a carefully curated collection of art and personal mementos. The goal was to create a space where my eye could find rest yet remain intrigued—a principle that draws me to a neutral palette with textured, layered accents.
One of the most critical changes was banishing the harsh, fluorescent overhead lighting. That kind of illumination feels clinical and draining, almost like a hospital. I turned it all off. Instead, I crafted a warm, ambient glow using a combination of stylish table lamps and discreet light panels tucked under furniture and behind the mounted televisions. This mimicry of custom, built-in lighting completely altered the room's atmosphere, making it feel cozy and intentional rather than cold and impersonal.
The soul of the space, however, lies in the personal touches. Among the artwork, one framed piece holds immense sentimental value: a handwritten note from my young son, James, that reads, "I miss my mommy." It's a bittersweet artifact that connects generations. I once asked my own mother, Valerie Jarrett, why she kept a similar note I wrote to her in her office when I was a child. She told me it was a "good, grounding thing" for a working parent. Now, having that note from James on my wall does the same for me—it connects me to him during long days and reminds me of my mom's own journey, creating a beautiful, emotional anchor in the room.
My approach to furnishing was a deliberate mix of high and low. Pieces from CB2 and Anthropologie live harmoniously alongside finds from Zara Home and Etsy. I believe style isn't about price tags. Some of my favorite vases, which have a lovely, aged vintage look, were Etsy finds for around twenty dollars. I also love bringing in life with fresh branches or bodega flowers from my favorite spot in the city; they are an inexpensive way to inject organic beauty and change the energy of the room instantly.
While I cherish many items here, my most prized possession is a signed copy of Ina Garten's biography. My husband knows that on a tough day, he might find me decompressing by watching old episodes of Barefoot Contessa. Having that tangible connection to a figure who embodies comfort and effortless style is a personal luxury.
The makeover even caught the eye of my colleague, Vicky Nguyen, who aptly noted, "You can't buy taste, but you can buy some of the things that Laura Jarrett has in her office." Now, I've set my sights on helping another colleague, my new TODAY co-host Craig Melvin, with his own office glow-up. He's full of ideas but needs a guiding hand to execute his vision, and I'm happy to offer my services pro bono. In contrast, the award for the most organized office undoubtedly goes to Savannah Guthrie—a fellow lawyer who truly has her stuff together in a marvel of order.
Organization is key, even in a personalized space. I stress the importance of tackling it in small, manageable increments. My office is neat now, but if you had seen it on election night in 2024, it was a different story—papers everywhere! I try to use quiet moments to tidy up. The philosophy is simple: when you're in the storm of breaking news, it gets messy; the next day, you regroup and restore order. It's a continuous, gentle process.
Ultimately, this transformation was about building a sanctuary. In the chaotic whirlwind of early morning show preparations and relentless news deadlines, I hope that when I step into this room, it feels like my little den of solitude and calm. It's a testament to the idea that with thoughtful design and personal touches, any space, no matter how corporate its origins, can become a true reflection of home and a vital source of peace.