Category: Interior Design

I love designing, which is actually a pretty silly way to start because if I didn’t love it, there is no chance I would still be here.

It is HARD.

But I have discovered that I really love the stuff that isn’t easy. Hence my dogs, pottery and children.

I love hard finishes. Going to select stone at a gallery is positively, cosmically incredible. You are looking at what pressure has done to sand, foliage and minerals over millions of years, and there is something so euphoric about walking through a stone yard that I suddenly understand hippies and psychics.

And then there is tile, which I am also completely in love with. It has come such a long way, and I am so grateful for the reemergence of historical designs, while at the same time we are getting all these fresh new designs that were not even possible before the printing technology became available. The mix of materials is insane. Marble, terrazzo, clay, ceramic, porcelain. It just keeps going.

And the freaking woods are keeping me going. The veneers alone are OMG. They can be dyed, bleached, smoked, layered, reconstituted and sliced all over again. They can be book matched, slip matched, laid into marquetry or pressed over fluted, ribbed, scalloped and curved cabinetry. We can change the color, grain, texture, pattern and shape of wood while still allowing it to be wood, which is completely insane.

And all of that leads into custom furniture, because furniture needs to be two things. Functional and beautiful.

The pieces we create for our clients’ homes are completely original. I continually want us to up our game, integrating functional items into furniture so you would never even know they were there, adding texture to a simple design, playing with scale and height and working out how to make something more useful without making it less beautiful.

We work with high end clients who have amazing homes, but they still want functionality. Of course they do. They want to be comfortable. They want storage. They want things to work. And we can dish that out in spades.

We can make comfort beautiful, and we can make beautiful functional.

Wools, papers, woods, fabrics, leathers, metals, ceramics, glass and stones are all part of our toolkit. How lucky am I that I still get to play every day?

Nikki Levy Interiors Is Funny

Now I want to write a blog about the really funny things that happen in interior design.

But I can’t think of any.

That is a joke.

Our world runs the gamut from very intense, very serious and very expensive high-end business to moments where I genuinely test the limits of how hard a person can laugh.

Elvis Has Entered the Room

We had a client with four dogs. Three small little babas and one badass named Elvis. He knows who he is.

Elvis was a snarky fellow who was usually monitored at all times. If he had been slightly bigger, his teeth could have done more damage than a few little pinpricks. But he had the aggression and fortitude of a hungry lion combined with a dragonfly—which, by the way, is apparently one of the most successful predators in the animal kingdom.

Anyway, Elvis was not allowed out when vendors were on site. But somehow, he escaped.

We heard barking. Then shrieking. We all ran in and found the poor drapery installer spinning around in circles with Elvis attached to his pant leg by his teeth. All four of Elvis’s legs were completely off the floor.

Spinning and spinning and spinning.

I could have sent the entire performance to Swan Lake.

Of course, animals are not the only ones who can create complete chaos on a job site. Sometimes all it takes is one small misunderstanding.

The 2′ x 2′ Rug Sample

We were meeting a client at a showroom and decided we needed to get a rug sample from her home to make sure everything worked together. So we sent our intern to pick it up.

You know, the little 2′ x 2′ sample.

Anyway, we received a text saying they couldn’t find it. Soon after, another text arrived: Don’t worry. They found it.

Next thing we knew, they arrived at the showroom hot, bothered and profusely sweating. They had brought the entire living room rug. The huge, enormous, full-size living room rug.

The NLI team kept it together. The client somehow didn’t notice the rug being carried in and then immediately carried straight back out.

But the minute she left, we died laughing.

Sometimes the funniest moments happen in clients’ homes. Other times, we manage to create them entirely on our own.

The Interviewer Who Wouldn’t Stop Waving

One of my fondest memories happened just after we moved into our new studio and were still learning the lay of the land.

What we had not yet realized was that the boardroom light was on a motion sensor. It only stayed on when it detected movement. And if movement never occurred, well, the light went off.

I was doing a remotely filmed podcast, and about 15 minutes in, I realized the light was probably going to turn off soon. So I started waving.

The interviewer waved back.

I waved some more.

He waved some more.

I stopped waving.

He stopped waving.

A little later, a client walked through the front door. I can see the entrance from my seat, so I instinctively waved at her.

The interviewer waved back again.

Then the lights finally went out.

Obviously, I threw both arms into the air and did my full “help me” wave so the lights would come back on. The poor interviewer had absolutely no idea what was happening, so he gave me one final, very uncertain little wave.

The poor guy. He was so confused.

At Nikki Levy Interiors, we take our work very seriously. Ourselves, less so. We design homes throughout Miami, Palm Beach, Boca Raton and Delray Beach—and pretty much anywhere else a wonderful project takes us. There will be budgets, deadlines and about a million details, but I can promise you there will also be a lot of laughter.

An Exhausted Designer Is Not a Good Designer

I started my company a little over 13 years ago. I was super motivated, highly ambitious and utterly clueless.

I started my company a little over 13 years ago. I was super motivated, highly ambitious and utterly clueless. Clueless because I charged $750 to design a full home, spent 16 hours a day on it, seven days a week, and was exhausted. I suppose that was the work I had to put in to build my business. But an exhausted designer is not a good designer, and that is important for clients to remember.

The first thing you need to understand is that a designer who undercharges can only be as good as her ability to keep her business running.

If she is undercharging you, she is probably overloaded with clients, because everyone has overhead. We have refined our square-footage load and our overhead so that what you pay us keeps the business running like a well-oiled machine.

We are not inexpensive. But we are so good.

I am here to tell you why you need to pay enough to keep your designer rested, creative and motivated. Ultimately, you are going to have a better home.

Imagine I am your financial manager. I am exhausted. My eyes are red, I can barely string a sentence together and the numbers are starting to blur. I have been working nonstop for days, and now you give me $1 million to invest across 80 different stocks.

That sounds like a recipe for disaster, doesn’t it?

So why would it be any different with your home?

I have matured—read: gotten old—and realized that I am so much more capable and 1,000 times more creative when I am rested. Now, that does not mean I don’t work well under pressure. My ADHD loves some pressure. But it does mean that when I start your project bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, your home is going to be so much more beautiful.

So, let’s carve out what clients and designers can each do to create this perfect scenario.

Clients need to brief their designer fully and realistically. That means sharing anything and everything that is important to you: the musts, the wish list and the things you absolutely cannot live with. We need to know all of it.

It is completely fine to have a budget. In fact, your designer desperately needs to know what it is. Just don’t be like one of my clients who refused to give us a budget and was then shocked when we came in above his very secret budget. Apparently, mind reading was also included in our scope.

Communicate clearly. Email is best because it is much easier to organize, refer back to and find six months later.

Let me explain why.

This is an actual version of my chat-group list with one client—let’s call her Millie because I watched The Housemaid the other day:

Millie. Millie and Mackenzie. Millie, Mackenzie and Kristen. Millie, Mackenzie and Giulia. Millie, John and Mackenzie. John and Millie.

And that is just the tip of the Millie iceberg. We have many more Millie chats, and not one of them has a subject line. Somewhere in that mess is a very important decision about a powder room wallpaper. Good luck finding it.

Email. Please.

I know not contacting your designer during evenings and weekends is hard. You love us. We are awesome. You are excited. You are frustrated, and we can alleviate that frustration. You are worried, and we probably have the answer. You heard something funny and wanted to share it.

Actually, the last one you can text. I love receiving happy texts after hours. Puppy pictures are also always welcome.

Now let me tell you why I want you to email the important things instead of texting or calling during evenings and weekends. Designers do not leave their work at the studio. It lives in our heads, and it is very, very hard to wind down. Every call and every text takes a tiny hammer to our calm and shatters it.

I know that may sound like I am minimizing our clients’ feelings and stress, but it is actually the opposite. Somehow, designers feel everything our clients are feeling and amplify it. I sometimes think we may be an entire industry of empaths, which is wonderful—but also incredibly draining.

I promise you, we dream about your projects. We go to restaurants and see finishes that inspire us for your home. But sometimes we need to pretend to forget about your project so our families can get a little attention.

Please know that our children, husbands and wives all thank you. They already know they come second to that stunning alabaster and unlacquered brass light that will patina beautifully over time.

Be respectful. There is nothing more debilitating or demotivating than disrespect.

Let me tell you a story about respect. A good one, actually.

We had a client who completely trusted us. She loved us, respected the process and worked as part of the team. Of her three homes, the one we designed was by far and away the best.

Why? Because we felt her respect, and all we wanted was to make her happy.

Now let me tell you about a disrespectful client. She questioned everything and anything. She was aggressive, called morning, noon and night, never made a decision and didn’t trust our opinions. She complained constantly and surveilled our vendors like the CIA.

We walked off her project.

It was not quite as cut and dried as that. We tried very hard to fix the situation first. But ultimately, we left.

And it felt so good.

Finally, don’t waste time. If you have hired a reputable design firm, follow their lead. Your project will be finished faster and it will be more beautiful.

Meeting after meeting after meeting is basically like putting Gorilla Glue into your project.

It gets stuck in one place.

As an interior design client, you should expect a process. You should expect structure. You should expect your designer to be interested in you and to truly understand what you want for your home.

You should expect respect—both personal and financial.

And you should expect lots and lots and lots of questions. If your designer is not asking questions, she is guessing. And we have already established that mind reading is not included in our scope.

So yes, this is going to be a little like raising a kid: the most fun, occasionally stressful and definitely not inexpensive adventure. But if you play it right, you are going to be so happy.

In the end, you will have a home that becomes the backdrop to your very best memories.

Nikki Levy Interiors designs homes throughout Miami, Palm Beach, Boca Raton and Delray Beach—and pretty much anywhere else a wonderful project takes us. We are not inexpensive, but we are so good, and we will care about your home as much as you do.

AI has Bad Taste

AI is amazing. I use it all the time.

But I also think we need to be very clear about what it is and what it is not.

It does not understand taste.

It does not understand humanity, or how people live, or why one room makes you want to stay and another room makes you want to leave. It does not understand the way a family actually lives in a house. The mess, the habits, the dogs, the kids, the husband who only sits in one chair, the person who needs quiet, the person who likes to cook while everyone hangs around the island.

And even if it could understand all of that, it would be pulling from millions of things that have absolutely nothing to do with you.

That is the part people forget.

AI is not sitting with you in your kitchen. It is not watching how your family moves through the house. It is not noticing that you say you want formal, but every image you save feels relaxed. It is not hearing you talk about your childhood home, or noticing that every time you describe your perfect day it involves being outside.

It is not understanding the tiny, weird, wonderful things that make your life your life.

Design is not just “make me a pretty room.”

Pretty is easy.

Good is harder.

A beautiful room can still feel wrong.

Good design knows when something is too much. Or not enough. It knows when a room needs warmth, or restraint, or a little tension. It knows when something should be edited out, even when it is beautiful.

AI can show you a hundred rooms in ten seconds.

But it cannot tell you which one feels right for you.

And a lot of what it creates is the average of everything. The average of thousands of images, trends, homes, hotels, Pinterest boards and magazine spreads.

Sometimes that is helpful.

Sometimes it just creates more noise.

The people who get the most from AI are usually the people who already know what they are looking for. They can look at what it produces and say, no, warmer. No, less expected. No, that feels generic. No, that doesn’t feel like me.

They are directing it.

The people who struggle with AI are often asking it to make the decisions for them.

And that is where things go sideways.

Because AI doesn’t know what good taste is. It doesn’t know what makes something timeless. It doesn’t know what will still feel special ten years from now. It doesn’t know your family, your routines, your aspirations, or the way you want to feel when you walk through your front door.

It only knows what has already been done.

A home should feel personal. It should tell your story, not the internet’s story.

And for all the incredible things AI can do, that part still comes from people

help us understand how you live

One of the most important parts of designing a home is understanding the people who are going to live in it.

Not just what colors you like, or whether you prefer modern or traditional, but how you actually live. Where you put your bag when you walk in. Where your kids drop their shoes. How you drink your coffee. Whether you really sit at a desk, or somehow always end up on the sofa with your laptop.

Those little things matter.

As designers, our job is to make your life better, prettier, easier, more comfortable, and more functional. But to do that well, we need to understand you.

We can guide the design. We can see possibilities you may not see yet. We can think through scale, layout, lighting, finishes, furniture, flow, and all the layers that make a home feel complete.

But you guide us too.

When you review plans, look through quotes, and ask questions, you are helping us understand what matters to you. Maybe something feels too formal. Maybe you need more storage than we realized. Maybe a chair looks beautiful, but you know your husband will never sit in it. That is useful. That helps.

We don’t expect clients to know every design answer. That is our job. But we do need to know what you are thinking, especially before decisions are finalized.

If we are not given the information we need to make the best decision, we will fill in the gaps based on our experience and what we believe is right for the project. You will see what we have done, and that is the moment to guide us, ask questions, and let us know if something needs to shift.

Because once something is reviewed, approved, and signed off on, it moves forward. At that point, it is no longer an idea floating around. It becomes an order, a drawing, a finish, a measurement, or something that other people are now working from.

The earlier we understand how you live, what worries you, what excites you, and what does or doesn’t feel right, the better we can design for you.

Good communication is not about questioning the process. It is part of the process.

Because the goal is not just a beautiful home. The goal is a home that supports your life, your family, your routines, and the way you want to feel every day when you walk through the door.

The Best Thing I Bring Home From Vacation

I always think vacations are so funny because you go away thinking you’re just taking a break, but really you come home with a whole list of things you suddenly want in your house.

And I don’t mean the obvious stuff. Yes, I notice the hotel lobby. Yes, I’m looking at the bathroom stone and the restaurant lighting and the cute little outdoor chairs. I can’t help myself.

But the thing I really notice is the feeling.

Like how good it feels to sit outside in the morning with coffee and not be staring at a million things that need to be done. Or how everyone somehow gathers in the same spot without anyone planning it. Or how a room can be simple but still feel so warm and good and easy.

Sometimes I come home and think, I need more places to sit outside. Or better light. Or less clutter. Or a room that doesn’t feel like everyone has to stand on ceremony.

And sometimes I come home knowing exactly what I don’t want. I don’t want a house that feels too formal or too stiff. I don’t want pretty rooms that nobody uses. That makes me crazy.

Travel reminds me that home is not just about how it looks. It is about how you live in it, how your people move through it, where they sit, where they talk, where they stay too long.

That’s usually the best thing I bring back from a vacation. Not a souvenir, not a shell, not another photo on my phone, although obviously there are a lot of those.

It’s the reminder of how I want home to feel when real life starts again.

The Project That Made Me Add “Please Behave” to a Legal Document

(a story about instincts, promises, and why contracts now have feelings)

Every designer has one story.
This is mine.

The setup

I said no.

We were busy. Properly busy. The kind where you know taking on one more project is a bad idea for everyone involved. So I did the responsible thing and declined.

She cried.

Actual tears.

And said, “I promise I will be your best client.”

Now, in that moment, there are two paths.
Stay strong. Or… be human.

I was human.

I said yes.

The beginning

At first, everything felt fine.

Excited emails. Big ideas. Energy that makes you think, maybe I got this one right.

Then little things started to feel… off.

A tone that didn’t quite match the moment.
A reaction that felt slightly oversized for what was happening.

You tell yourself it’s nothing. Everyone has a day.

The unraveling

It was not nothing.

The first vendor call came in.

“Hi Nikki… quick question… is there any way I could… not go to the house?”

I laughed. It sounded dramatic.

It was not dramatic.

Within a week, it became a pattern.

Electrician suddenly “unavailable”
Tile installer asking if someone else could go
Cabinet guy texting me like we were coordinating something classified

And then, my personal favorite
“I’ll go, but can you stay on the phone with me?”

At this point, you start to reassess your life choices.

The office mood

Then the client calls started.

The office would go quiet in a way that felt almost rehearsed.

Someone would look at me.
Someone else would whisper, “it’s her.”
One person would stand up and leave the room like they didn’t want to be involved in whatever was about to happen.

I would take a deep breath and answer like a very calm, very composed version of myself.

All for things like… a drawer.

The moment

There is always a moment where your brain just goes, enough.

Mine was watching a very kind vendor being spoken to in a way that made absolutely no sense for the situation.

And I thought, no.

Not happening again.

Not to my team. Not to our vendors. Not on my projects.

Because these people matter. They are the reason anything gets built.

Also, I like them. I would like them to continue liking me.

We finished

And yes, the house turned out beautiful.

Because we always deliver.

But behind the scenes, I was already rewriting how we operate.

The contract enters the chat

Next project. Updated contract.

Right there, quietly included like it had always been there
A code of conduct.

Simple expectations
Be respectful
Be professional
Treat people well

Nothing aggressive. Just clear.

The plot twist

Since then

Everyone is lovely

Vendors show up willingly
My team answers the phone without a moment of silence beforehand
Install days feel like they’re supposed to feel

Now I don’t know if
People read it and think, noted
Or if I got better at spotting the early signs
Or if something about seeing it in writing makes people pause for a second

But I am not asking questions.

If I could really add anything to a contract

and people actually followed it

Here is what would make life wildly better

1. If you open with “I trust you,” it has to last longer than a week
Not until the next screenshot arrives.

2. Pinterest is inspiration, not instruction
We are not recreating a stranger’s house with different ceilings and different light and a completely different life.

3. No one is allowed to discover their personality through grout
Choose it. Live with it. Grow as a person.

4. Vendors are to be treated like the highly skilled professionals they are
Because they are. And also because they are the ones holding the tools.

5. “While we’re here” should come with a warning label
That phrase has never once stayed small.

6. Decisions are not a revolving door
We make them. We move forward. That is how projects get done.

7. If something doesn’t fit, it’s not a surprise twist
The room did not shrink overnight.

8. Storage is not optional, it is a life strategy
You will have things. The things need a plan.

9. Comfort is not negotiable
At some point, someone needs to sit down and enjoy the house.

10. Everyone remains a nice person from start to finish
A simple concept. Surprisingly effective.

Final thought

The best projects are the ones where people actually enjoy the process.

Where vendors want to show up. Where the team feels good walking into the house. Where conversations feel normal and productive.

That energy shows up in the end result. You can feel it in the space.

So yes, we design beautiful homes.

And now, we quietly make sure the experience feels just as good as the outcome.

Interior Design Thoughts That Actually Matter

(the things I say out loud on jobsites that somehow end up being useful)

Interior design is not always these big sweeping moves.
A lot of it is small, slightly obsessive decisions that quietly make everything work.

Here are more of them. No order. Just real life.

Your rug is too small

It is. I don’t need to see it. It is too small.

Rugs should sit under furniture, not float like a lonely island.

Lighting should happen in layers

One overhead light is not a plan.

You need lamps, sconces, maybe something low and warm that makes everyone stay longer than they meant to.

Plan your art early

Do not wait until the house is done and then panic-buy art.

Think about it during the architectural phase. Wall sizes, lighting, even where a picture light might go.

We have literally moved walls to make art sit properly. That is how much it matters.

If you don’t know where something goes, you need storage

Not another basket. Actual storage.

Drawers, cabinets, places where things disappear easily.

Move your art down

It is too high. Lower it. Then a little more.

Mix materials like you mean it

Stop matching everything.

Let things have a bit of tension. That is where it gets interesting.

Are you really going to use that thing

This one is important.

That extra bar. The second island. The oversized tub. The built-in coffee station.

It sounds great. Will you use it? Every day? Once a year? Never?

We have seen beautiful spaces designed around things that no one touches.

Curtains should go higher and wider

Always. It changes everything.

There should be somewhere to put your drink everywhere

Every seat needs a surface. No one enjoys balancing a glass on their knee.

Stop buying furniture without a plan

That chair you loved online might be perfect. Just not for your house.

Use your weird spaces

Awkward corners are usually the best opportunities. Storage, seating, a moment that feels custom.

Your entry sets the tone

Even if it is tiny. Especially if it is tiny.

Give it intention.

If everything is special, nothing is

Pick your moments. Let them land.

Comfortable always wins

If no one wants to sit in it, it is not working.

Plan your trash cans

No one wants to talk about this.

Where are they going. Kitchen, bathrooms, laundry.

We have seen stunning kitchens with nowhere for a trash can. It becomes a daily annoyance.

Hide them, integrate them, but plan them.

Cabinet pulls, the decision everyone avoids

For some reason, no one wants to deal with this.

You can design an entire kitchen and then freeze when it comes to hardware.

It matters more than people think. Scale, finish, how it feels in your hand, how it lines up across drawers and doors.

We have seen beautiful cabinetry completely fall flat because the hardware was an afterthought.

Pick it early. Test it. Commit to it.

Think about outlets before it is too late

Where are you plugging in lamps. Charging phones. Plugging in vacuums.

Outlets placed badly will irritate you forever.

Walk your floor plan

Before anything is built, walk it. Tape it out.

See how it feels. Where you turn. Where you bump into things.

It will tell you more than a drawing ever will.

Think about doors

Door swings matter more than you think.

Doors hitting each other, blocking furniture, opening into tight spaces. It is avoidable.

Storage where you actually use things

Not where it looks good on paper.

Where do you drop your bag. Your shoes. Your keys. That is where storage goes.

Don’t forget the boring things

Cleaning supplies. Laundry flow. Where the vacuum lives.

If those are not planned, they take over.

Your home should feel like you, just edited

Not a showroom. Not a copy.

Take what you love and make it work better.

Final thought

Good design is a thousand small decisions that make life easier without you noticing.

Also, again.
Your rug is too small.

Designing for the Real VIPs

(Milo, Ralphie, and everyone else with paws, claws, or a very strong opinion about where they sleep)

Let’s start here.
If you have pets, they are not part of the home. They are the home.

Milo and Mr. Ralphie run ours. Cats do the same in their own, slightly more strategic way. Birds, bunnies, whoever is living with you, they all quietly take over and somehow it feels completely right.

They are family. Big time. Everything shifts around them without it feeling like a compromise. It just becomes how the house works.

And yet, people still design homes like pets don’t exist. Beautiful, precious, nowhere for anything, and then two weeks later it all unravels.

If you are going to have pets, design for them from the beginning.

They need real places, not leftovers

Pets do not want the space you didn’t use.

They want to be where you are. Always.

So instead of hiding a bed in a hallway, we build it in. A sleep spot tucked into millwork. A place under a console that actually fits them. A corner in the family room that feels intentional, not like an afterthought.

Milo has very strong views on proximity. Ralphie pretends he doesn’t, then quietly moves closer.

Cats are even more specific. They want height, sunlight, and the best seat in the room. Give it to them properly and it becomes part of the design.

Food, water, and the mysterious movement of bowls

Dog bowls move. Cat bowls move. It is a phenomenon.

You start with a neat setup and suddenly they are in the middle of everything like they made a decision.

So we plan for it. Built-in feeding stations, tucked into cabinetry, easy to clean, easy to access. Water that does not damage floors. Food storage that looks like it belongs in your kitchen, not like a temporary solution.

It is simple. It just needs intention.

The bath situation no one thinks about

Washing a dog or even rinsing muddy paws should not feel like a full production.

A proper setup changes everything. A handheld spray, the right height, surfaces that can handle water, a space that makes sense.

Milo tolerates baths. Ralphie negotiates every step.

Either way, the design helps.

Fabrics are not about you anymore

This is where things shift.

Your fabric choices are for them.

Performance fabrics, forgiving textures, materials that can handle being climbed on, curled into, and lived on daily. Not delicate. Not precious. Just smart.

A beautiful sofa that no one can sit on because of the dog is not a win.

Cats will test everything. Dogs will claim everything. Choose accordingly.

Furniture that knows what is coming

There will be jumping. Sliding. Spinning.

Furniture needs to handle it.

Solid frames, good proportions, pieces that feel stable and comfortable. Layouts that allow movement without constant correction.

If you are thinking your pet will not do that, they will. Milo and Ralphie have already tried it.

Floors that forgive

Paws, nails, water, quick turns for no clear reason.

Floors take it all.

Wood works with the right finish. Stone works. Tile works. The goal is something that looks better with life, not worse.

Anything too precious becomes stressful very quickly.

Storage, because their things multiply

Toys, leashes, treats, towels, more toys. It grows.

If there is no place for it, it spreads everywhere.

So we build it in. Drawers, baskets, cabinets. Easy to use, easy to maintain, nothing complicated.

Because no one is reorganizing pet things every day.

The part people don’t always realize

When you design for pets, the home becomes better for everyone.

More thoughtful layouts. Better materials. Smarter storage. Softer edges. More ease.

It feels relaxed. It works harder without looking like it is trying.

Milo and Ralphie, for context

Milo believes everything belongs to him. He is persuasive.

Ralphie is gentle until he decides otherwise. Then he is very clear.

Both assume every space was designed with them in mind. Which, at this point, is not far off.

If you are designing a home and you have pets, include them properly.

Dogs, cats, whoever is part of your world, they are not an add-on. They are part of the brief from day one.

Design like they live there. Because they do.

Things That Quietly Drive Me Crazy in Design

(unpopular, subject to change, but here we are)

There are things in this industry that get labeled as “style” or “preference.” Some of them are neither. Some of them are just bad decisions wearing good lighting.

Here is where I stand today.

1. Designers being mistaken for decorators

We do not place pillows and call it a day.

If that’s all it was, I’d be out of a job and frankly a lot more relaxed.

Designers think through structure, flow, scale, materials, lighting, and function. We are in the bones of the house, not just the last layer.

I cannot tell you how many times we walk into a home mid-construction and something feels off. No one can explain it. Then you start looking and realize the kitchen doesn’t relate to the living space, the lighting makes no sense, and there is nowhere to actually live.

That is not a styling issue. That is a design issue.

20 things designers do that decorators don’t:
Space planning
Architectural detailing
Lighting and electrical layouts
Plumbing layouts
Millwork design
Custom cabinetry
Material specification
Finish coordination across an entire home
Door, trim, and molding design
Stair and railing design
Kitchen and bathroom layouts
Exterior material selections
Furniture layouts based on circulation
Built-ins and integrated storage
Ceiling design
Window and door placement input
Construction drawing packages
Coordination with architects and builders
Problem solving on site
Designing how a home functions, not just how it looks

2. When everything is so busy it loses the point

If your eye doesn’t know where to land, it gives up.

We once walked into a home where every wall had a moment. Every light was a statement. Every rug had a personality. It felt like being yelled at from every direction.

Editing is not you holding back. It is you knowing when to stop.

3. Designing for photos, not for living

If it looks great but doesn’t work, it is a prop.

Homes should handle real life. Not abuse. Nothing can handle abuse. Nothing lasts forever. A little wear is normal. It means people actually live there.

We have seen kitchens that belong in a magazine and nowhere else. No prep space, no storage, just vibes. Stunning, until you try to make breakfast.

The goal is not untouchable. It is livable and still beautiful.

4. Repeating the same look over and over

If every project looks the same, it is not a signature. It is a copy paste.

It is lazy and a slap in the face to a client who is paying for a personalized process. The client deserves more. Their home should be 100 percent them, not a recycled version of someone else’s.

There are designers who stay in one lane and do it well. That works for some clients.

Our clients expect more.

If you look across our work, it is all over the place in the best way. Different tones, different moods, different directions. Still a clear point of view, still a vibe, just never the same answer twice.

We have clients show us inspiration all the time. The job is not to recreate it. The job is to understand why they love it and then do something better and specific to them.

You are not hiring a look. You are hiring thinking.

5. Not pushing beyond what the client asked for

Clients hire designers for perspective, not agreement.

If we are just nodding and delivering exactly what was asked for, something is off. The value is in showing what could be better.

At the same time, there is always that moment where a client is locked into an idea and you are trying to gently say there is a much better move here.

We have had to say, just trust this one thing. Those are usually the decisions that change everything.

No trust, no great design.

6. Design without a clear point of view

A home should have variety, but it should make sense.

This is the “I love everything” problem. Modern kitchen, coastal bedroom, traditional living room, a little glam powder room for fun. On paper it sounds great. In reality, it feels like four different houses sharing a zip code.

We had a project where the client loved very clean architecture and very soft, organic materials. That can go wrong fast. Instead of choosing one, we defined how they work together. Clean lines as the base, warmth layered in. It all spoke the same language, just with different accents.

If every room is trying to be the star, the house gets exhausting.

A clear story fixes that.

7. Playing it safe with color

I love color. I use color.

What I don’t love is fear disguised as sophistication. Entire homes washed out because no one wanted to take a chance.

At the same time, color is not easy. We have all seen what happens when it is used without control. Suddenly everything is competing and nothing feels grounded.

I am not convinced most designers know how to use color well, and that is part of the problem.

When it works, it elevates everything. When it doesn’t, everyone runs straight back to beige like it’s a safe house.

8. Wasted space and poor planning

This one hurts because it is so fixable.

Wasted corners, awkward layouts, hallways that go on forever for no reason. All of it comes from not thinking things through early enough.

We have pushed clients to move walls over inches. Inches. Not to spend more, but because those inches change how a room works. Suddenly a bed fits properly. Suddenly there is storage. Suddenly the room makes sense.

We are not pushing for more space. We are pushing for the right space.

There is a difference.

9. Thinking interior design has no real value

This one is always surprising.

Interior design is not just how something looks. It is how you move, how you feel, how your day runs without you even thinking about it.

We have seen homes where doors hit each other, kitchens don’t flow, and there is nowhere to put anything. You feel it every day.

There is psychology in this. Scale, light, layout, storage. All of it affects how you live.

Good design is doing a lot of work quietly.

And then there are the small things that drive me insane

The quiet offenders. The ones that don’t seem like a big deal until you live with them.

Switches in the wrong place
A bathroom with nowhere to put a towel
Beautiful stone with terrible seams
Lighting that makes everyone look tired
A sofa floating for no reason
Rugs that are too small
A kitchen with no landing space near appliances
Closets that look good and function terribly
Hardware that fights the door it is on
Millwork that almost aligns but doesn’t
Chairs that no one wants to sit in
Overhead lighting with no layering
And the big one
People who spend millions on a home and then slowly chip away at it with bad decisions

This is the part no one talks about. Design is not one big move. It is a thousand small ones.

Get those right, and everything feels easy.
Get them wrong, and you feel it every single day.