I’ve definitely run into that—sometimes the first draft feels like it’s from a totally different planet. I remember once getting a layout where the living room was basically a hallway, and I just couldn’t see how it fit my client’s lifestyle. When I asked about it, the architect explained they were trying to maximize natural light, which made sense on paper but didn’t really work for how the family actually lived. It’s interesting how much those conversations reveal about whether someone’s actually listening or just following their own design instincts... Sometimes you have to push back a bit to get to that middle ground.
I’ve had that happen too—one of the first drafts for our place had this huge open kitchen, which looked great in the renderings, but it meant cutting out a much-needed storage closet. I get that designers have their vision, but sometimes it feels like they forget about the day-to-day stuff. I had to remind ours that we actually need somewhere to stash all the kids’ gear... It’s a balance, for sure, especially when you’re watching every dollar.
WHERE DO YOU EVEN START WITH HIRING SOMEONE TO DESIGN YOUR HOUSE?
That’s such a common thing—those glossy renderings can be super tempting, but they don’t always reflect how you actually live. I’m always curious: when you were working with your designer, did you feel like they asked enough about your daily routines? Sometimes I wonder if the process is too focused on aesthetics at the start, and not enough on the nitty-gritty of storage, traffic flow, or even where the dog’s bed goes.
I’ve seen people bring in Pinterest boards full of open kitchens and then realize halfway through that there’s nowhere to put the vacuum or winter coats. It makes me question whether we (as designers) are doing enough to dig into those details early on. Did you get a chance to walk through your day with your designer, or was it more about picking finishes and layouts from the get-go?
Budget’s another tricky one. I’ve noticed that when clients are upfront about what they can spend, it actually helps us prioritize things like storage over, say, a statement light fixture. But sometimes folks feel awkward talking numbers right away. Do you think it would’ve helped if your designer had pushed more for those practical conversations up front?
I’m always trying to figure out the best way to balance vision with reality. Maybe there’s no perfect answer, but I do think asking “where does all our stuff go?” should be one of the first questions in any design meeting. Otherwise, you end up with a beautiful space that doesn’t quite work for real life... and then everyone’s frustrated.
Curious if you ended up getting that closet back in the final plans? Or did you have to compromise somewhere else?
“I do think asking ‘where does all our stuff go?’ should be one of the first questions in any design meeting.”
Couldn’t agree more. I always tell folks: start with a “day in the life” walkthrough. Literally, pretend you’re coming home—where do your shoes go, where’s the mail land? It’s not glamorous, but it saves so much headache later. And yeah, budget talks are awkward, but nothing’s worse than falling in love with a feature you can’t actually afford. I’ve seen more than one dream pantry turn into a glorified broom closet because nobody wanted to talk numbers early on.
Totally hear you on the “day in the life” exercise—it’s honestly one of the best ways to spot where things can go wrong before they do. I always say, if you don’t know where your keys and bags will land, you’ll end up with a pile somewhere you didn’t plan for. Budget talks are awkward, but I’ve found people are way happier when they’re honest about what’s realistic from the start. It’s not just about pretty finishes; it’s about making sure the space actually works for you.
