Good Design Begins with Good Listening
“I no longer look for the good in people. I search for the real. Good is often dressed in fake clothing. Real is naked and proud. ”
I’m often asked why I call myself the Interior Design Shrink. I explain by saying that “I do the work of the therapist with the tools of the interior designer”. The parallels have never been lost on me when I am being invited into a person’s home, their sacred inner sanctum, and they are allowing themselves to be vulnerable, as they drop their public personas and job titles to show me who they truly are.
My job, plain and simple, is to get to the root of issues and problem solve. In order for me to do that job well, I need to really understand the lives of my clients. I need to step into the details of their daily routines, to know their likes and dislikes, to become fluent in what they are trying to communicate about themselves, and to find the places they feel satisfied or unsatisfied. I couldn’t have the level of insight needed to help people if I didn’t ask a lot of questions.
When I start with a new client, it’s often a little uncomfortable for them to be asked such direct and personal questions, which can leave them feeling vulnerable or defensive. But with every question asked, a bit of veneer falls away and a bond of trust starts to be established. This allows clients to share with me the things that are often hidden from the rest of the world. Slowly I am shown their sleep apnea machines, the contents of their medicine cabinets, their overflowing closets, the family heirlooms they secretly hate, and their separate bedrooms. I take all that I am shown and keep it in strictness confidence, as a good therapist would.
Once we’re over that vulnerability speed bump, it’s understood that these questions are not meant to embarrass, but rather, to get valuable information that leads me to the core of their emotional and physical needs. This is the rich data that is critical to formulate the design solutions I will offer. Without this, I am creating nothing more than pretty, vapid space.
In my design career, I have come across countless homes that leave me scratching my head and wishing they had received a little pre-construction therapy to formulate more thoughtful planning. I have seen doors and windows placed where they make no sense because no one thought to ask how furniture might need to be arranged. I have critiqued (and then redesigned) countless kitchen and bath layouts, which made no sense because no one asked if a client packed kids lunches, liked to cook or bake or preferred showers or baths. And I’ve entered scores of homes feeling heartbroken when I see the insufficient closet space and missed storage solutions opportunities that homeowners were left to deal with.
I know it’s natural to want to skip right to the bells and whistles of design - Of course, it’s more fun to look at beautiful kitchen tile than do an inventory of pots and pans. Who wouldn’t want to look at soaking tubs over measuring shampoo bottles and counting how many towels are in the linen closet? And daydreaming about walking into that beautifully fitted walk in closet is so much sexier than counting socks and yoga pants. But jumping to the fluff, before doing the intense work of figuring out root problems and devising a plan is a recipe for disaster, and a very expensive disaster at that. It’s disheartening when I am contacted after all those mistakes have been made and I have to heavy heartedly let them know that not everything can not be fixed.
I often wonder how many relationships between home and homeowner would be a lot happier if they just had a little bit of counseling to reconcile their differences. How much longer might they stay together if they had taken the time to get to know one another a little better? And how answering a few embarrassing or uncomfortable questions could be the key to finally finding the solution to a long-suffering problem.
It may seem to my clients that I put them on the therapist’s couch before I can begin to find them the perfect couch. Perhaps I do, but it is a technique that sets a solid foundation for all of my design decisions. So, I will continue to ask lots of questions and keep digging to find the places (and people that need care and tending to. I will continue my life’s work as The Interior Design Shrink and show people that life truly can be re-designed.
