Raffle Prize, Supersized

Craftsmans and Spanish Revivalists and mid-century modernists—why does San Diego have so many different architectural styles? What makes a home distinctly San Diego? What are the trends shaping the look of the city’s neighborhoods for years to come? We asked the experts: architects and designers honoring the past, crafting the present, and radically altering the future of San Diego living. They opened their portfolios, shared points of view, and treated us to snapshots of their latest work that speaks to the ideas they’re playing with. The result? Six trends, design choices, and a proposal to make local homes unique. Grab a lemonade and get a little inspo for your own place.

Trend 1: Taming the Wild

Outdoor comfort goes to 11 with climate-controlled architecture

“Clients are now reaching for comfortable outdoor spaces that can be controlled for subtle shifts in the environment—heated covered porches, or patios with controlled louvered ceilings with integrated fans, lighting, heaters, and adjustable light.” –Mark Morris, Oasis Architecture & Design

“I think outdoor spaces in San Diego can be as useful or even more useful than indoor spaces. Relating to the site, view, [and] neighborhood can bring so much value and richness to a home.” –Bill Bocken, Bill Bocken Architecture & Interior Design

Trend 2: End of the Farmhouse Era, Finally

The death of Little House on the Coast and the rise of warmth and organic materials

“After years of modern farmhouses—black windows, white houses, and gray walls and floors—natural tones are coming back. We are seeing a return to organic textures and more saturated color. Homes feel layered rather than stark.” –Susan Wintersteen, Savvy Interiors

“There’s a move toward homes that feel like every element has a purpose. I see a strong desire for warmth and natural stone, wood, organic textures with softer transitions, and materials that age well.” –Jen Pinto, Jackson Design & Remodeling

Trend 3: Respect Your Elders

Designers’ plea: Don’t ditch beautiful bones for trend whimsy

“I would like to see even more architectural integrity, fewer quick flips, and more thoughtful renovations that respect proportion, scale, and context. San Diego deserves homes that feel timeless, not transactional.” –Susan Wintersteen, Savvy Interiors

“We want to see people respecting the original character of their homes while re-imagining them for modern life, rather than erasing character in favor of quick transformations that look ‘cookie-cutter.’” –John Kavan, Jackson Design & Remodeling

Trend 4: We’re Designing to Stay Awhile

San Diego’s design market is maturing in place

“Homeowners are staying in their homes longer—some 15 or 20 years. That has shifted design away from trend-driven choices and toward architecturally driven spaces that are functional, cohesive, timeless, and designed to support daily life over decades.” –Jen Pinto, Jackson Design & Remodeling

Trend 5: This Is Not Spicoli’s House

We probably don’t need a starfish next to our “Beach That Way” sign

“There’s a noticeable move away from literal ‘coastal themes’ and toward more layered, textural environments. San Diego homes today often feel cleaner, more architectural, and more personal.” –Julie Crosby, designer

“Today, the aesthetic is more refined but still rooted in ease. It is coastal without being cliché and modern without being cold. The throughline is light, air, and a relaxed sophistication that reflects how people actually live here.” –Susan Wintersteen, Savvy Interiors

Trend 6: The House Outside Your House

Outdoor square footage as equally valuable as interior space

“When you can live outdoors most of the year, architecture and interiors must support that. Large format doors, layered patios, durable materials, and seamless flooring transitions all stem from lifestyle.” –Susan Wintersteen, Savvy Interiors

“Nearly everyone wants to take advantage of the constant sunshine, so we see a huge desire for indoor-outdoor living, light and airy fabrics, organic materials that bring the feeling of nature into the home, and a desire to incorporate a relaxed, coastal lifestyle into everyday living.” –Lilli Fish, LS Design Studio

San Diego’s most iconic architectural tower sat closed and vacant for over 80 years until the invisible architects came in.

A century ago, the dramatic structure we now know as the California Building greeted visitors to the 1915–16 Panama–California Exposition in Balboa Park. It was covered in ornate pilasters, colorful tiles shone on its domed roof, and an attached eight-story tower surveyed the expo below. The building resembled a church, yet attendees who stepped inside expecting a sermon instead encountered an exhibit called The Story of Man Through the Ages. The showcase would inspire the building’s longtime-permanent use as the Museum of Us (formerly the Museum of Man).

Its tower became famous but furtive. Shut to the public in 1935, it spent decades as an instantly recognizable but inaccessible landmark. Finally, the museum decided that the California Tower would reopen for tours by 2015 and be outfitted for earthquake safety by 2020.

The challenge was significant. In order to keep it secure during seismic shifts, the whole structure needed steel braces, concrete walls, and tension rods—major infrastructure that had to remain a secret; hidden so that it didn’t alter the tower’s legendary look.

The people who completed the work were secret, too. Sort of.

“We call ourselves ‘invisible architects,’” says David Marshall, principal architect at Heritage Architecture & Planning, the firm tasked with restoring the California Tower. “Most architects going through school, their dream is to create something that’s never been created before. That’s not what preservation architects do. We are following the footsteps of great designers, and we don’t want to leave our fingerprints on everything we work on.”

Marshall has spent the last 35 years returning iconic San Diego structures to their original shine: Balboa Theatre, the Top Gun house, Hotel del Coronado, and the Western Metal Supply Co. building, to name a few. And those are just the well-known ones. San Diego has more than 1,000 buildings—from modest homes to multi-story civic structures—that qualify as historic for various reasons.

“Number one is age: It has to be over 30 years old,” says Cathy Herrick, who founded the development company San Diego Historic Properties with her father Leon in 1984. (Though that’s not a hard-and-fast rule—Marshall’s team was able to help top local architect Jonathan Segal designate three of his buildings constructed after 2000, since any structure proven to be architecturally significant is up for consideration.)

“Second, it has to have enough of its original fabric—like 90 percent,” Herrick continues. The preservationist’s ultimate goal is to gently repair and, if absolutely necessary, replace weakened or damaged portions of the building while making modern safety and accessibility upgrades.

Marshall and his team completed a $160 million renovation at the Hotel del Coronado last year, and even seemingly minor details required some creative problem-solving.

“We were trying to bring back the historic handrails around the front porch,” he explains. “They were built in 1888, so they didn’t meet the current code—they were only 29 inches tall instead of 42 inches tall.” On top of their diminutive stature, the handrails had seven-inch gaps between their pickets, more than twice the current safety requirement of less than four inches. The Heritage Architecture team’s solution: build exact replicas of the original handrails, but add a frameless glass rail behind them that’s only visible up close.

At The Beau—Herrick’s $5 million restoration of an 1886 Gaslamp Quarter hotel said to have been a favorite haunt of Al Capone—“there was a section of redwood staircase banisters and posts that were deteriorated,” Herrick says. “We took the pieces that remained and sent them to Northern California to a guy who specializes in hand-tilling [creating a distressed appearance on the redwood]. He made new pieces to match the historic.”

Restoring an old building for a new purpose—which preservation architects call adaptive reuse—can become even trickier. “Standard number one is to find a new use that’s compatible with the historic use,” like turning an old hotel into apartments, Marshall says.

His team transformed the Western Metal Supply Co. building at Petco Park into suites and a team store for Padres fans. “Warehouses like that are the easiest to convert because they’re usually large, open spaces with very few columns and partitions,” he explains. Any additions can be torn out by future preservationists, returning the building to its original state.

All these efforts to preserve the past don’t come cheap. “At The Beau Hotel, we wanted to put back the original 140-year-old bay windows. There were only eight of them, but it would have cost me $750,000,” Herrick says. “You sometimes have to make the economic decision to go with something that looks like the original but really is new.”

Another challenge is that skilled artisans capable of restoring and replicating historical designs and materials are becoming increasingly rare. Over her four-decade career, Herrick utilized craftspeople—some in their 80s—who specialize in unique skills like repointing historic brick or reworking century-old window sashes. “Those guys aren’t around anymore,” she says. “It’s a lost art.”

Historical preservation may also be under threat from a policy perspective. As of now, the City of San Diego automatically reviews any building that’s over 45 years old before it’s demolished or its exterior is altered. But with the city’s current focus on densification and increased housing, Marshall says, “there seems to be a lot of push for fewer restrictions on new construction in historic neighborhoods.”

A proposed amendment to the current Heritage Preservation program would alter that automatic review process because it is “a reactive and, overall, less efficient approach to historic preservation,” says Kelley Stanco, deputy director of Climate, Preservation & Public Spaces for the City Planning Department. “Of the roughly 3,500 properties reviewed every year, 85 to 90 percent are found to have no potential historic significance. In addition to creating unnecessary delays for project applicants, it is an ineffective use of city resources that could be more effectively spent proactively surveying and identifying what is significant and bringing those properties forward for designation.”

Another suggested amendment would give the Historical Resources Board new recourse for overturning historical designations. “If a building owner wants to tear down these newly designated historic houses, they’re gonna go to the council and appeal and, depending if they have any leverage—financially or otherwise—the council could say, ‘It’s not historic anymore,’” Marshall says. He fears that the change would “open the door to nothing being able to stay designated historic and nothing being safe from demolition.”

Stanco argues that changes to the city’s Heritage Preservation program are intended “not to eliminate historic preservation, but rather to incorporate…other important factors” like housing, equity, and sustainability.

The Save Our Heritage Organization (SOHO), a nonprofit dedicated to preserving historical architecture in San Diego, recently sent a letter, signed by former members and staff of the San Diego Historical Resources Board, to Mayor Todd Gloria and the city council decrying delays in historic designation reviews and nominations, among other concerns.

Ultimately, “growth and preservation are compatible,” believes SOHO Executive Director Bruce Coons. “The fact of the matter is that even if all the eligible houses and buildings were designated, it would be one percent or less of the city’s entire housing stock.”

Coons considers many historic properties “naturally occurring affordable housing”: They already exist, for one, giving them a financial leg-up on costly new builds. They’re also typically smaller than contemporary homes, and San Diego’s Mills Act financially incentivizes homeowners to maintain their historic houses through property tax relief. A number of structures in older San Diego neighborhoods also added ADUs during the first and second World Wars, contributing to density.

And beyond the practical, these structures contribute an inimitable texture to the local landscape. San Diego is unique for its mix of architectural styles—the famous Spanish Revival buildings, of course, but also Victorian, Pueblo-style, Art Deco, Craftsman, ranch-style, and midcentury-modern structures, spread across popular neighborhoods like Hillcrest, Bankers Hill, North Park, Point Loma, La Jolla, Logan Heights, and more.

“Our built environment is really what makes San Diego what it is,” Coons says. “It’s difficult to get meaning from a stucco box. I think San Diegans want to feel like San Diegans, and [historical buildings] provide that context, meaning, depth, and character to our lives. We realize that when they’re gone.”

Mark Hoddle lifts the top off a hanging trap and points down at about 20 wriggling, hefty, snout-nosed, black weevils. “They are charismatic-looking,” he says.

His job is to destroy them.

Hoddle is an entomologist at the University of California, Riverside. We are standing in the middle of the Sweetwater Reserve in Bonita, a kind of real-life Hieronymus Bosch painting illustrating an imminent arboreal hell. It’s a palm tree boneyard. Dried-up Canary Island date palm fronds lay in heaps next to behemoth headless trunks.

The shriveled trees are evidence of a wild party: an orgy of South American palm weevils. After mating atop the palm, the flying beetles lay their eggs. The larvae hatch and eat the palm heart, becoming grubs the size of chunky man thumbs, before spinning a palm fiber cocoon and rendering the palm—even
the most sturdy and vital—terminal within months. “It’s a death sentence for the tree,” Hoddle says.

Because they’re like the cow of palms—big and meaty—the date trees are by far the weevils’ favorite. But that doesn’t mean our Mexican fan palms, the tall, lithe ones lining our boulevards, are safe. “It’s like a buffet,” Hoddle says. “The weevils will get the best stuff first, and then when that’s all gone, they’ll work their way down.”

First spotted in San Ysidro in 2011, the invasive weevils are now firmly established. They’ve already taken out more than 20,000 palms in San Diego. Now, they are moving steadily north. Hoddel believes it’s only a matter of time before they arrive in the Coachella Valley, home to a $300 million date industry. When they get there, it’ll be a palm massacre, severely disrupting date-shake life. “We are trying to get
everything ready for an anticipated invasion,” Hoddle says. It’s not just the dates many are concerned about, though.

Californian identity is deeply intertwined with the palm, for good reason—along with the Gold Rush, the palm tree was one of California’s early big wins in branding.

Palm mania started slowly, explains Donald Hodel, an emeritus horticulture advisor for the University of California, Division of Agriculture and Natural Resources. Canary Island date palms, he says, were first brought over by mission-building padres in the late 1700s. They wanted the real-deal fronds when Palm Sunday came around.

From there, palms built up some serious nonsectarian steam. Hodel tells me that, in the late 1800s, developers used palm trees as a siren song for East Coasters, summoning them westward to seek out paradise. They planted Mexican fan palms around citrus orchards and manufactured postcards depicting California as healthy, tropical, and exotic.

After World War II, young veterans exiting the military came west for “their own piece of the pie,” which included a “postage-stamp-sized lot” with, of course, a palm planted out front, Hodel says.

“They are iconic,” he adds. “Rightly or wrongly, [palms] became associated with the upper echelons of the economic ladder.” A frond-crowned tree in your yard meant you’d made it.

Nowadays, those non-native palms are to southern California what pine trees are to Christmas. They’re culturally entrenched—which explains why governments will go to great lengths to protect them. The Encinitas City Council, for example, recently approved a $382,250, five-year plan to defend the Moonlight Beach heritage palm, which involves dousing it quarterly with insecticides, conducting regular inspections, and removing nearby infestations.

At this point, there is only preventative treatment—spraying and crossing one’s fingers—or doing nothing and just rolling the dice. Either way, the palm may die, leaving tree lovers not only bummed out but broke: A tree corpse can cost $6,000 (or more!) to remove.

It’s been tough for palm people in California. Austin Kolander, an arborist with Aguilar Plant Care and first responder on the weevil front, spends his days breaking the news to homeowners that, due to a weevil attack, there’s no hope for their beloved palms. “This woman today was so distraught,” he says. The dying palm had been planted 80 years before by her grandfather. It wasn’t just a tree to her—it was a tether to her familial history.

Luckily, a seasoned pro is on the case. Hoddle (with the help of his entomologist wife, Christina Hoddle) previously cracked the code on the Asian citrus psyllids’ decimation of California’s orange groves. He’s now working nonstop to find an answer to this weevil problem before the impending desert date palm blitz.

A predator is helpful to get an animal population into check, but the weevil doesn’t have one in California, so Hoddle began a search. In Brazil, he found a tachinid fly, which would have inspired the likes of Hannibal Lecter. It, like the weevil, deposits its eggs atop the palms, but then the freshly hatched maggots wiggle down and entomb themselves within the weevil’s cocoon. “They eat the larva alive,” Hoddle says.

Then, they pupate, using the emptied-out cocoon as a sleeping bag.

The issue is that the fly currently won’t reproduce in a lab setting. Even if Hoddle manages it, there’s still a long process involved in green-lighting the introduction of a new natural enemy.

But there is some hope: He’s also currently testing a method he calls “attract and kill” in a 10-square-mile area that includes Rancho Santa Fe and Fairbanks Ranch. The process involves a hanging contraption that lures the weevils using their own pheromones—it’s like backstabbing them with their own horniness.

He points to a tiny vessel. “This is weevil pheromone aggregate.”

“What does it smell like?” I ask.

“It smells like weevil pheromone aggregate,” he says, laughing.

I bring my nose in close. Hints of musk, rust, and maybe old BandAid. Not great, but if it was a candle called Weevil Nookie, someone out there would pay 40 bucks for it.

Once the weevil lands on the trap, the insect is dosed with a puddle of potent poison. “Instead of hundreds of gallons of insecticide,” Hoddle explains, “we’d just have to put out a couple of ounces over vast areas.”

It’s still not foolproof. If it works—and, based on the numbers of weevils that have fallen for the traps so far, it does look great—and is deployed widely, the remaining Canary Island date palms will likely only have a 70 percent survival rate. But that’s far better than the 70 percent death rate so far.

The public can help the fight, as well, by reporting any symptomatic palms one observes to the University of California, Riverside’s Center for Invasive Species Research.

As we wrap up our tour of destruction, Hoddle spots a massive palm he’s been keeping an eye on for the past six years. It’s dead, with telltale signs of weevil activity. He can’t completely blame the weevils, though, he says.

Ten new insects are established in California each year, three of which become a problem agriculturally or ecologically. “Don’t blast through signs at the airport asking you to declare produce when your bags are full of mangos,” he pleads. The repercussions can be enormous: increased taxes to pay for eradication programs; higher prices for produce; more insecticides in our water, land, and bodies.

“Bugs don’t stay in your own backyard,” he says. “They spread, and then we all end up paying the price for it.”

Restaurants are the social lifeblood of a city. They offer a place to commune with friends and strangers alike, build relationships, explore new cultures through flavors, and offer a welcome escape from the reality of our own kitchens. All under the guise of getting something to eat.

With all restaurants do to nourish us, we invite you to give back to them by voting for your Reader’s Choice favorites in several categories.

Vote in as many categories as you like, but you can only cast one vote per category. If the altruistic love of your favorite spot isn’t enough, your vote will enter you to win a $200 gift card to the Catamaran Hotel Resort and Spa.

Winning restaurants earn bragging rights for the entire calendar year—and your continued love and support. So, go on. It’s up to you to decide on our city’s next culinary icon.

Voting has closed. View the Best Restaurants 2024 Winners here.

Welcome to the inaugural San Diego Magazine Home + Design Awards, where we celebrate the brilliance of local interior designers, architects, landscapers, craftspeople, builders, and home service experts within San Diego’s vibrant home design scene.

These awards are a celebration of the creative forces shaping the aesthetics of San Diego and its surroundings. Like brushstrokes on a canvas, we aim to bring attention to the talent and services that turn spaces into living masterpieces.

Vote Now

Why Nominate

Your submission is your invitation to step into the limelight. The winners will be featured in the April Issue of San Diego Magazine and posted online. San Diego Magazine is read by more than 164,700 readers each month, and sandiegomagazine.com receives more than 403,000 monthly page views. Your nomination is an opportunity to captivate our affluent readers who turn to San Diego Magazine for insight into culture, food, arts, and the latest in home design.

To Enter

You can nominate a business or tradesperson whose work and physical business is located within San Diego County. Please provide the name of the business and tradesperson with their contact information. In addition, please include your name and contact information with your entry.

For Transformation entries, provide a high-quality before and after photo to be eligible for the Reader’s Choice vote. We’ve set up an easy-to-use Canva template for your convenience here.

Reader’s Choice Voting

Rally Your Troops! After your masterpiece is nominated, it’s time to gather the votes! From January 8 to 15, unleash the power of your design community. Share, shout, and let your network know that your creation deserves the Reader’s Choice Award, and ask them to vote for your entry.

Important Dates

Nomination Period: December 4, 2023 – January 12, 2024 12 PM
Reader’s Choice Voting: January 12, 2024 3 PM – January 19, 2024

Winners will be announced in the April issue of San Diego Magazine and online at sdmag.com

Nominating Categories

Best Interior Transformations (Before and After)
Bathroom
Bedroom
Closet
Dining Room
Game Room
Garage
Home Gym
Kids Room
Kitchen
Living Room
Nursery
Office
Stairs/Staircase

Best Exterior Transformations (Before and After)

ADU (Accessory Dwelling Unit)
Backyard Landscaping
Conversion to water-wise landscape
Exterior Home Renovation
Front yard landscaping
Garden
Patio + Porch
Sheds
Swimming Pools

Best Home Businesses + Services

Appliance Store
Architect
Carpet/Flooring
Cleaning Services
Closet Remodeling
Door + Window
Electrician
Escrow Company
Furniture Store
Gardener
General Contractors
Handyman / Repairman
Heating, Cooling, and Air
Home Remodeling
Home Security
Interior Designer
Landscaper
Lighting Stores
Nursery / Garden Center
Painters
Pest Control
Pile + Masonry
Plumber
Pool Services
Real Estate Agent
Real Estate Company
Roofing
Solar
Tree Services
Turf
Upholstery

Homes of the Year

Interior Categories

Bohemian
Coastal
Contemporary
Eclectic
Green
Industrial
Maximalist
Midcentury
Minimalist
Modern
Multifamily Residence
Rustic

Exterior Categories

Beach Home
Multifamily Residence
Contemporary
Craftsman
Green
Mediterranean-Style
Midcentury
Modern
Mountain Home
Ranch Style
Spanish-Style
Suburban Home
Tudor-Style
Urban Home
Victorian