WHERE DO YOU EVEN START WITH HIRING SOMEONE TO DESIGN YOUR HOUSE?
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Practical stuff like storage, mudroom space, or laundry location gets skipped over way too often.
Totally hear you. I always ask people how they actually live day-to-day—if a designer glosses over where your shoes and backpacks end up, that’s a problem.
- Budget talks shouldn’t be awkward. If someone makes you feel “cheap” for wanting to stick to it, they’re not the right fit.
- Honestly, I’d rather have a clever storage solution than a marble backsplash any day.
- It’s not about being cheap, it’s about being smart with your money.
Totally agree—if a designer can’t talk through where your muddy boots or laundry baskets actually go, that’s a red flag. I always tell folks:
- Ask to see past projects, especially ones with families or lifestyles similar to yours.
- Don’t be shy about bringing up your “unsexy” needs (pantry, coat hooks, dog food storage... all the stuff that keeps life running).
- If someone pushes you toward fancy finishes over practical stuff, that’s not a great sign.
Honestly, clever storage beats a showy kitchen every time. You’ll thank yourself later when you’re not tripping over shoes in the hallway.
WHERE DO YOU EVEN START WITH HIRING SOMEONE TO DESIGN YOUR HOUSE?
You nailed it with the “unsexy” needs. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve walked through a gorgeous new build and thought, “Where do these people put their vacuum?” Or, like, does nobody in this house own a winter coat? It’s wild how often those basics get overlooked.
I’m curious—has anyone actually had a designer who *did* ask about your daily routines? Like, “Where do you dump your mail?” or “Do you have a spot for muddy soccer cleats?” I’ve seen some designers get so caught up in the Pinterest-worthy stuff that they forget real people live here. I mean, I love a waterfall countertop as much as the next person, but if there’s nowhere to stash the dog food bin, what’s the point?
One thing I always wonder: how do you balance wanting clever storage with not ending up with a house full of closets you never use? I’ve seen projects where every nook is a cabinet, but then half of them are empty because nobody actually needs that much storage. Is there a trick to figuring out what you’ll really use versus what just sounds good on paper?
Also, anyone ever had a designer push back on your “practical” requests? I had one try to talk me out of a mudroom because it “interrupted the flow.” Sorry, but my kids’ boots interrupt the flow way more than a bench and some hooks ever could.
At the end of the day, I’d rather have a spot for my recycling bin than a chandelier in the laundry room... but maybe that’s just me.
At the end of the day, I’d rather have a spot for my recycling bin than a chandelier in the laundry room... but maybe that’s just me.
That’s not just you. I had a similar debate with our designer about a broom closet—she kept suggesting “open shelving” for aesthetics, but where am I supposed to hide the mop? I get wanting things to look nice, but if it doesn’t work for daily life, what’s the point? Has anyone found a good way to communicate these priorities without sounding like you’re shooting down every creative idea?
if it doesn’t work for daily life, what’s the point?
I couldn’t agree more with this. I’ve been through a few projects where designers got really excited about “statement” features—like a glass wine wall in the living room or floating shelves in the mudroom. Sure, it looks great in the renderings, but then where does all the actual stuff go? Once, I pushed back on a design that had zero closed storage in the kitchen. The designer was convinced everything should be “on display.” I finally just brought in a box of random kitchen gadgets and set them on the counter during our meeting. That made my point better than any argument could.
In my experience, it helps to frame your feedback around how you’ll use the space day-to-day, rather than just saying no to their ideas. Something like, “I love how this looks, but I really need a spot for X because of how we live.” It’s not always easy—sometimes they do take it personally—but at the end of the day, you’re the one living there, not them.
