I will soon be celebrating my 30th year in the business of interior architecture and design.  It is hard to articulate the differences in this business since I dove head first into all things aesthetic.  And although accommodating the many challenges everyone faces in their daily lives, especially lately, my office has adjusted rather nicely to working within the new normal of the business of design.

First, a look back. The late 1980s was a heady time of excessive everything.  Interiors were filled with layers upon layers of damasks, brocades, and the ever popular moires.  Upholstered pieces were embellished with tassels and braids, and the swag and jabot window treatment was simply de rigueur, no matter how old your home actually was.  If you were lucky enough to own an authentic antique piece of furniture, you displayed it proudly, and its patina gave a room an air of value and authenticity.

My background in architectural history was a perfect match for this time period in design, and it was a joy to create rooms with historical significance, or at least a real reference to such.

Building and maintaining a business was a separate, but equally important, process that existed simultaneously with the creative work.  There was no  “Insta” to connect with potential clients, no Google to tap into for fast furniture or fabric options, no websites to feature your own services.  You built your business on your actual work, and by the personal connections you made.  

Showhouses were yearly events where designers chose a space within a large home, and designed it to exhibit their particular design aesthetic.   This was a ton of work for the designer, who not only had to absorb the entire cost of a room’s renovation, but also had to rely on actual furniture “showrooms”  to loan out the furnishings for weeks at a time. People would flock to these events, where the designer could actually be present to meet with the tour-goers, explain elements of the design, and make personal connections.  Special evenings were set aside when a designer could lecture on specific design features.  One evening I gave a talk on how to add humor to a space, and the success of hanging a rubber chicken in the window of an elegantly renovated  kitchen.  I gained four new clients from that lecture.  Yes, those were the days.…but I digress.

It’s a little different now. With the paired down simplicity of spaces, patternless fabrics, straight lined seating, and rooms devoid of any real architectural interest, almost anyone can click on Firefox and order a room straight out of Wayfair.com.  And for anyone who might be seeking some real  design help, you can click on a slick website with a photo of a vase or a lamp shade, and decide right then that this design firm is the perfect one for you!  It is only after a few weeks that you realize that one of the most important aspects of the design process is the personal connection that exists (or doesn’t exist) between you and the designer.  A successful design outcome is dependent on it, and you can’t know that by a photo of a lamp shade.

A few years ago, a website designer told me my website was too wordy, and it needed to be simplified.  I really tried to pare it down.  It was then that I realized that the detailed descriptions of those projects were such integral parts of the success of those projects, that I would not only be doing a complete disservice to the clients, but to the projects themselves.  Those written descriptions convey the design elements, the all important process, and in some ways, portray the designer/client relationship, critical to the success of any design project.

My office still does all our drawings by hand, selects fabrics and colors with actual samples, and will only use computer-generated data if absolutely necessary.  Otherwise, there is just too much risk of misunderstanding.  Okay, I admit, I am a bit old fashioned.  But this approach has worked for me, and the people that work with me, for many years.  I might not be able to meet you personally at an upcoming designer showhouse, or give a lecture on the incorporation of humor in a design, but I am pretty certain that being a bit old fashioned is a sure avenue to design success!

Patricia Cove is Principal of Architectural Interiors and Design in Chestnut Hill. Find her at www.patriciacove.com.