You can read the actual deliverable before you buy it.
The trouble with buying design is that you are buying taste, sight unseen, and what turns up is a PDF. So the real thing is on this page — one past client's room, names and address removed, every page of it. Read that and the three packages below take about four minutes to choose between.
Victorian front room, north-facing
The hard one. North light kills warm greys, so the scheme went the other way. 63 items scheduled, £11,400 spent including the joinery.
Read the roomKitchen–diner, knocked through
Designed alongside the builder's programme rather than after it, which is the whole reason the sockets are where the lamps are. £24,900.
Read the roomTwo bedrooms and a landing, rented flat
Nothing screwed to a wall, nothing that couldn't come with her. Landlord-proof design is a real brief and it's under-served. £3,200.
Read the roomThree packages
Concept
- Two-hour survey at your place
- Two directions, not fifteen
- A palette with real samples
- An honest read on the budget
One room, complete
- The full pack — plan, elevations, lighting
- A schedule with every item and price
- A box of samples, posted
- One round of changes included
Whole house, in stages
- A running order for the whole house
- One room designed at a time
- Pause between any two rooms
- The order is set by money, not taste
Fixed means fixed — Quoted after the survey and it doesn't move because the project turned out to be interesting. If the brief changes, we re-quote in the open rather than adding it up quietly
The concept fee comes off — If you go on to a full room within three months, it's deducted. It exists so you can stop cheaply, not so you can be walked into the next thing
What none of them include — The furniture, the trades, delivery, and the two everyone forgets — window treatments and a decorator. Budget those from day one and nothing later is a shock
A schedule with a line for every item — Product, supplier, size, price, lead time and the link. Forty to ninety lines for a room, and the prices are the ones you pay
Elevations for anything built in — Joinery, alcoves, a fireplace wall. Your joiner prices from these — a joiner pricing from a mood board is guessing, and the guess is never low
A lighting plan and a switching plan — Two drawings, because where the light goes and where the switch goes are separate arguments and both are settled at first fix, months before you see a lamp
A box of samples, posted — Paint, fabric, tile, timber. On a screen everything is the wrong colour and every one of us knows it
One page saying what order to do it in — The least glamorous thing in the pack and the one people come back and thank me for. Doing it in the wrong order is what makes a room cost twice
I take no commission from suppliers — Some designers do, openly, and charge a lower fee because of it. That model is fine. It isn't mine, and you are entitled to ask any designer which one they're on before you hire them
What that would be worth, so you can price the silence — Ten to twenty per cent on everything specified. The number is here because a discount you cannot see is not a discount you can compare
Nothing is marked up on its way to you — Invoices come from the supplier in your name wherever the trade account allows it. Where it doesn't, you get the supplier's invoice attached to mine
I don't take a percentage of the build — It rewards the wrong thing. A designer paid on spend has a quiet reason to prefer the expensive tile, and you shouldn't have to wonder about that
If the budget can't do it, I'll say so and charge nothing — A room designed to a budget that isn't there is a plan for disappointing you slowly. That conversation happens at the survey, before an invoice exists
It still has to meet the rest of the house — One room done to a different standard makes the hall look worse. We plan the join even when we're only doing the one side of it
Say what's staying — The sofa you like, the rug from your mother, the telly that's too big. Designing around fixed things is the job — pretending they aren't there is how a scheme dies
Budget shapes the plan, not the taste — The same room at three budgets is three different specifications and one identical drawing
One room at a time, priced one at a time — You are never committed further than the room we're on, and pausing costs nothing except the wait to start again
The running order is its own deliverable — You get it after the survey, before you commit to anything, and it is useful even if you never hire me
Sequencing beats specifying — Most of what a designer saves you on a whole house is doing things in the right order, not finding a cleverer lamp
I can't make a small room big — I can make it work, which is a different and more useful thing. Anyone showing you a before and after where the room grew has changed the lens, not the room
I can't hold your builder's programme — Their dates are theirs. What I can do is get the drawings to them early enough that a delay is never my fault, and tell you honestly when it is
I can't promise a look from a photograph — The light in that photograph is not the light in your house, and light is most of it. What I can do is show you the same scheme in your own room at three in the afternoon in February
I can't fix a house you don't enjoy living in — Some of what people want from a redecoration isn't a decoration problem. Better said out loud at the survey than discovered at the end, when it's been paid for
I won't specify something I haven't seen — Or sat on, in the case of a sofa. It slows the schedule by about a week and it is the reason things almost never go back
“She talked me out of the extension and into moving one doorway. It cost a fortieth of what I'd budgeted and it's the reason the house works now.”
A client, second project
Ask about your room
Live preview — every color, word and block is editable after you pick it.
