
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.
People love lists and superlatives, dating way back to high school yearbooks. But the publications are missing the juice: The best designers in the world have the best clients in the world.
Fear is the power that fuels inertia. I read somewhere that the all-white room is a byproduct of fear.
The driver’s seat upheld a particular status in our family — probably in most families I expect. The driver is in charge. The pilot navigates the dark, scary world where strangers live in big, dark houses and high beams are a weapon.
I bet your wardrobe does. Or your car, your wrist watch or even your boat. What about your home? Do you hesitate to invite people over?
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 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.
Often times we see flaws, oversights and potential improvements that no one else sees. Should we speak up and point them out?