Emily Palmer Wolff: A Work in Progress
On a cold January afternoon, I took a short walk to Emily Palmer Wolff’s studio in the heart of Mainstrasse, Kentucky; it only took me about a song and a half in my headphones to get there from my own home. On my walk, I passed a tall brick building undergoing a makeover; my favorite neighborhood bar, Larry’s; and the side of a building with a mural that reads “Love Y’all” – all everyday details Emily Wolff has touched in Covington.
Emily’s studio, one of her many “in-progress” pieces of work, sits on the corner of Pike and 9th with a wide-open view of a bustling intersection – her real-life canvas.
Emily is a preservationist, business owner, “learn together” parent and teacher, neighbor, and truth teller. Emily spoke to me about her life-long passion for historical preservation and honoring and redefining chapters, and reminded me how as women, we shouldn’t shy away from being honest and asking each other for help.
Interview by Sarah Wheatley. Photography by Heather Colley.
Tell me a bit about your story; how did you decide to open your first restaurant?
I have a fine arts background. I had all these scholarships to art school and then I was like... maybe I want to be pre-med? I had this really weird identity crisis so I went to University of Kentucky to see if I liked pre-med courses. And of course, I took a couple science courses and was like, “Yeah, art’s my thing.” And then I met Paul.
My husband, Paul, was always cooking food for me throughout college. I’d go over and he’d have this beautiful dinner made and I’d be like, “Wait, where are the carryout boxes?!” So we made a decision in 2002: If we ever want to open a restaurant, now’s the time. Before we get bogged down in parenthood (we had two babies on the way). So we decided to purchase Otto’s. And we lived upstairs! Paul was like, “We’re going to sell 60 sandwiches a day and we’re going to be able to afford our mortgage.”
It was perfect. We were the only two employees. I was able to hang art on the walls and sell from that space, and then we just grew our business; we were actually able to hire employees, do other things, and grow our family. So we had to move out of the small apartment above our restaurant, and we didn’t go far – we moved to Bakewell Street.
Is that where you are now?
Yep. So St. Aloysius, the house we live in, is a former Catholic rectory. When we bought it, it had no plumbing, no electricity, and it had been vacant for more than 20 years. It was a huge undertaking.
That was our first, like, major renovation. It took about 18 months. We moved in with one bathroom and no kitchen – we finished those while we were living there. I was in the process of potty-training my two year old and our bathroom was on the third floor.
How did you manage that major renovation?
It was crazy; everything we do is a little bit crazy. And I like operating that way.
Renovating our house sort of led to this passion for preservation and bringing abandoned buildings back to life. I’ve always been super into preservation work and the idea of taking something really old and broken and making it beautiful. Whether it’s a piece of furniture or something I find at a thrift store or an actual house… it became a passion once I started doing these houses.
What type of properties do you like to work on?
It’s the worst of the worst ones that we want to do. Where they’re like, “Demo that building!” and we’re like, “Nooo! I want to save it!”
That’s how we got Frida. That building was slated for demolition because it was in such structural disrepair. We got a phone call from the fire department, and they said we had to demo it. I was like, “We’ll sign the papers tomorrow; just please don’t knock it down!”
When you see something that’s deteriorated… can you still see the vision of what it could be?
I love spaces; I love being in a space and seeing how the light moves through it. So yeah, I do. Now, my husband does not. I’ll walk in like, “Let’s do this project!” and he’s like, “You’ve gotta draw it out – my head is not where yours is.” He’s so good at math and numbers and figuring out things, whereas, I’ll be like, “Hey, this is what I want,” and then we figure it out together.
So, thinking about preservation work – has this always been a passion for you?
As a kid, I had a dollhouse that was my obsession. My mom said I would disappear for hours and I would cut apart her magazines and wallpaper and things in the house. And I still have the dollhouse in my studio at home. I looked at it and was like, “Oh, my God, I use the same decorating methods in the houses I do now!”
What purpose would you say this space, your studio, has been serving for you?
It is kind of like this sanctuary space. It’s still a work in progress. Every piece I have back here is a work in progress. You know, even to work on something for an hour and just clear my head… that’s what it’s been right now.
I’ve always been super into preservation work and the idea of taking something really old and broken and making it beautiful.
The idea was to use this space to really start some more intense design projects, like residential design. And that’s still slated to happen; it’s just on pause because there’s only so many hours in the day right now. I think that everything happens for a reason, as cliché as that sounds. Sometimes, it takes a really long time to find those reasons. And I mean, everything is out of your control. My mantra is just “surrender.” Like, okay, we made it through another day… what’s tomorrow gonna be?
How do you take care of yourself?
[Laughs] Um, it’s kind of nonexistent at the moment. Self-care as a mom of five and an entrepreneur is really hard.
When the weather was nice, I was hiking all the time. I could take the kids out and turn it into a lesson. There’s something so grounding about being outside and walking with the trees. If I have a really bad day, I’ll take the dogs and walk to the river. Power walking is kind of like my way to get in the zone and work shit out.
How has it been navigating your work while homeschooling your kids during this weird time?
I always say, I can wear lots of hats! I love the idea of having time with the kids and being able to travel; just being on our own agenda. So, to be able to be at home and just do whatever has been really fun.
I’ve been teaching our third grader about area, perimeter, and how to space out quilts – like, how many squares can we fit in this area? And then, translating it into a little cottage we’re doing on Bakewell. How many square feet is this kitchen? And how many cabinets can I fit? Turning real life into a math lesson.
My parenting style is really more child-led. Like, “Oh, you’re into this? Let’s learn everything we can about it.” They’re all very much their own individuals, and if I can foster that and let them become the people they’re supposed to be, then I think I’m doing okay.
And your restaurants – do they ever feel like your kids?
Oh yeah. When we open a restaurant, I always refer to it as its infancy; it’s like having a newborn. You have to be there all the time; you aren’t sleeping; your finger’s on the pulse. So opening The Standard during the pandemic was… a lot.
But our industry is like, pivot, pivot, pivot. You don’t ever just hit autopilot. So, that was a test of everything we knew and didn’t know, and we’re still figuring it out.
So, what are your primary projects right now?
Right now, most of my energy is going toward the restaurants because we’ve had to pivot so much. At Frida, we redesigned the taco window. I did a redesign of Otto’s interior dining room because we’ve always wanted to but never had time to shut down and do it. Like, how do I keep it on brand with what we have our roots in, but still give it a grown-up face-lift? And at The Standard, it’s still in its infancy.
I’ve seen you at Frida before, like, bussing tables, and I just love that you were in the trenches with everybody. Is that part of your approach?
Oh yeah! I don’t sit still and neither does my husband. If toilets need scrubbed, we’ll go scrub. If you’re not hands-on, then you’re probably not seeing something.
We have this amazing staff right now. And part of me has had to say, “I’m going to give up some of these freedoms or creative choices I always had and hand it over to one of my managers.” That’s been hard for me, but in the same breath, it’s kind of that surrender. It’s just giving up some of the control to others.
What role does the history of a space play in the way you renovate it?
I think it’s really important to not mask the history of a space. Like, The Standard is a garage that’s been in our community since the 1930s, so specifically leaving that grit and feel of what it truly was: this auto body shop where these men spent their whole lives working. I mean, talk about historic preservation. Butch is the guy we got the garage from. It was really fun to visit with him and share stories. It’s been through everything. To give it the honor of turning that space into a restaurant, it was like, “I’ve gotta do it right.”
We put roots down in Covington. We’ve opened all of our businesses in this neighborhood; you have to put your money where your mouth is. If you’re going to say this is a great neighborhood, you have to be a leader and actually do it, too.
It was this idea of masculine and feminine because it was all guys there, but then Butch’s wife (whom he adored) was there with him all the time. Everyone knew Marge, but Marge was never part of the story. So, for me, I wanted to honor her in the space.
I also wanted it to be the next chapter of the space; a continuation of the story. I wanted to use my art to storytell the past and bring it to 2020-2021; that was such an honor.
It also just feels right for someone like Butch. When he shut down the garage, within a month or two, Marge died. Then, he found out we were doing the space and he came down right at the beginning – just so excited. He was in frail health; I just wanted him to see it finished. It was so awesome. He and his kids came down and got to see it.
It’s the human thing. We get so caught up in our lives and one day we’re going to be that old, gray person and it’s going to be like… Do we want to live a life someone wants to honor? Or do we want to live a life that just sort of goes away?
I love what you said about how it’s important to preserve the history of a prior chapter but that life also takes on new chapters and we have to honor that. Thinking about your chapter right now and what your life used to look like – what would you title this chapter, today?
I thought this chapter was going to be this big celebratory year and all these great things were going to happen… and then, obviously, COVID-19. But it put shit into perspective.
First of all, we shouldn’t wait to celebrate anything, so that’s been my life lesson: We have to be present; we have to celebrate every moment. Who cares if it’s your 40th birthday or your 41st? They’re all important.
Talk to me about Covington. Why this area? What about Covington really speaks to you?
I think it was just a love affair: opening a business at 22 and really just falling in love with that building. It wasn’t nice when we got it, but the entry to a rehab was approachable for us as a really young, poor couple. All the historic details were masked; that was our first home, and as a family, we wanted to be able to bring it back to what it should’ve looked like, historically, refinishing these hardwood floors, finding pocket doors…
There were so many abandoned properties when we moved here 18 years ago. I just know there’s still so many intact historic homes in this area. It felt like rebuilding the community, too, because I think there’s a big difference between gentrification and kind of what we are doing. We’re taking a property that is abandoned – that hadn’t been loved in a really long time – and bringing it back. Making it have the pulse of the city.
We put roots down in Covington. We’ve opened all of our businesses in this neighborhood; you have to put your money where your mouth is. If you’re going to say this is a great neighborhood, you have to be a leader and actually do it, too.
I think there’s economic diversity, people of color, and I mean... we’ve got the Pride crosswalks at Rosie’s and Bar 32 and they make me so happy. Like, that’s where I want to raise my kids. When we were looking to move from the apartment above Otto’s, it was around Christmastime. We were down on the promenade with the kids and there was Christmas karaoke. This amazing drag queen comes out and starts singing “Happy Birthday Baby Jesus,” and Paul and I looked at each other, like, “We’re never moving out of Covington. We have to raise our kids here.” And that was it.
How do you feel like your role in creating spaces helps bring more people of color and feel comfortable here?
So when we first moved here, there were definitely some bars that were white supremacist bars. It was very much this… white male superiority vibe. Things in the neighborhood change, but I think it’s because we’re this creative hippy population that says, “That doesn’t stand.”
I had people reach out after George Floyd was killed. We started hanging Black Lives Matter signs out of our windows or from our porches. People walking would stop and say, “Thank you for caring,” and if they see that on every house, it sets a tone.
You don’t see that in the suburbs – you don’t get the vibe of “We love you no matter what,” and I feel like in our neighborhood, you get that.
It’s cool to see, even just walking here today. You’ve left your mark on so many spaces. What kind of mark (long-term) do you hope to leave on Covington?
I like using art as creative placemaking and connectors. Building a neighborhood, part of it is like – the Love Y’all mural – you can tell somebody who just moved in, “Oh, you’ll pass the Love Y’all and then Larry’s is right there!”
I always want to push the boundaries. I don’t want it to be something you look at and see on a Pinterest page or an HGTV magazine. How do you push it and make it your own? How do you put a stamp on something?
What’s important about having a community of women to support you?
I do have that community. We’re all supporting each other; we’re all rooting each other on, it’s just… everyone’s busy. Everyone’s doing their own thing. As a modern woman, you’re “supposed to be” the perfect woman, the perfect mom, the perfect business person and juggle your 9-to-5 and your kids. And actually, that’s kind of bullshit. I feel like modern feminism is kind of needing to be like, “Actually… it is hard.”
I think if we can be honest with each other and say, “Work is really hard right now” and “I’m dropping the ball with the kids,” we’ve got to be able to say that to each other and support each other. Women are meant to support each other and help each other.
So, you’re a teacher in a lot of ways – with your kids and your restaurants. Who would you say is the most influential woman or teacher in your life and why?
I have a lot. I think in different areas, I channel different energies. You know, you have that maternal energy, and you have that healing energy, and that artistic energy. In place and preservation: Jane Jacobs, I think, is incredible. She wasn’t an urban planner or a preservationist, and yet, she was. Her thinking is very aligned to mine, as far as community health.
Artistically, I don’t share the style, but just the idea of Frida Kahlo. Her approach to community and politics is interrelated to my life as far as when we were designing [the restaurant] Frida. She’s an amazing feminist. Her stamina is so incredible. Her resiliency from early trauma to late in life; she was a shadow to this male artist who got all this credit, yet she was this amazing artist in her own right. For her to be able to navigate and find her voice in a time where women weren’t really doing that is really inspirational.