
We always joke that interior decorating emergencies don’t exist – save for the ones we can handle. Like you move in with a significant other and your collective stuff clashes.
We always joke that interior decorating emergencies don’t exist – save for the ones we can handle. Like you move in with a significant other and your collective stuff clashes.
Fear is the power that fuels inertia. I read somewhere that the all-white room is a byproduct of fear.
Many of our clients struggle with the challenges of downsizing. But what about upsizing? Typically out of college, we land our first job, maybe we shack up in a trendy urban neighborhood, then get married, celebrate a first born. But the inevitable arrives, planning for that second (or third) child?
Not for the strict minimalist, unless carefully and obsessively arranged, this approach involves hanging all the pictures closely next to and atop one another in order to fit them all in.
Aren’t we all, at some level a bit afraid of being judged? Our homes might be the ultimate reveal into our personal attics of shame.
The one thing that will completely transform a room is an exceptional paint job. It’s the type of application that people can understand and relate to, though rarely give much consideration to the varying levels of quality.
We’ve all said it, but this doesn’t work all the time, especially when a kaleidoscope of decisions must be made.
The journey of interior design transformation is often more valuable and memorable than the results. This means (to me) gently and thoughtfully leading the client through a series of carefully intended doors.
When asked what I did, I would usually get the same blank stare. Not to put down that career choice, it just doesn’t incite the type of excitement and enthusiasm that saying “I’m an interior designer” does.