In search of the ideal designer

Kiplinger's Personal Finance Magazine, July, 1998 by Jane Bennett Clark

The challenge: Redo a family room--and find the perfect spot for the piano.

I'm sitting on an overstuffed couch surrounded by swatches, and I'm feeling a little unhinged. Consulting an interior designer is like seeing a therapist to address my conflicted relationship with chintz. The hour is almost over and I still haven't decided on a window treatment for my family room. Should we schedule another session?

Normally, I favor a self-help approach to home decorating. That means I pick up something at a flea market or secondhand store, rearrange every stick of furniture in the house to accommodate it, and then call in my friends, my mother and my cleaning lady for their opinions. My husband, Chris, gets a say-so as long as it isn't too ludicrous. Ditto my three kids.

A few years ago, though, we acquired a family room--along with a new house--whose functions we've never quite narrowed down. Computer station? Piano room? Lounging and eating area? Currently it's all of the above, resulting in a style you could call Neobedlam with a touch of mosh pit. What we need, we recently concluded, is a professional who can pare the room down, create more storage and, above all, find a better place for the piano. Suggestions for slipcovers and window treatments are also welcome.

Before scheduling any appointments, I chat over the phone with each designer to see if our tastes and working methods match. "There's a certain comfort level you want to achieve" before embarking on a designer-client relationship, says Jerry Harke, a spokesman for the American Society of Interior Designers. Harke also recommends setting a budget for purchases to avoid misunderstandings. I figure on $5,000 as a starting budget, with $10,000 as the outside limit.

Designer's fees can run into big money, depending on the size of the job and the billing arrangement (see the accompanying box). But because the job I need done is small, several designers agree to do a one- or two-hour consultation for fees ranging from nothing (the hope being that I'll buy something through the store or service) to $225 for hands-on rearranging.

THE INDEPENDENT DESIGNER

Fee: $100 an hour

Estimate: $10,000

Having described my taste to the American Society of Interior Designers' referral service as "Victorian country" in a moment of panic, I'm curious to meet Odette, an ASID-certified designer whose taste supposedly matches mine. (Call the service at 800-775-2743, or check the Internet at www.interiors.org.)

During the hour's consult, Odette looks over the layout, asks about our habits and brainstorms the piano problem. The living room is a logical choice; but in the current arrangement, space is a bit tight. Hmmmmm. How about the dining room? Actually, the piano will just make it if I move out the hutch, take a leaf out of the table and move a chair--the chair I usually sit on.

As for the family room, she suggests we paint the window trim a contrasting color and skip fabric treatment. A custom, wall-size computer unit would be nice, as would a textured slipcover for the couch and a 5-by 7-foot kilim rug. She doesn't bring any samples and is vague about prices, but she figures the custom unit will run at least $8,000. If we use modular components, the whole job could stay below $10,000.

After Odette leaves, I realize ASID's referral service was right--we do have similar tastes. So similar, in fact, that many of her suggestions were variations on ideas I'd already had (you think we never measured the dining room for the piano?). I'd call on Odette for a bigger job, but apart from the trim idea, I'm not sure the walk-around was worth $100.

THE STORE-BASED CONSULTANT

Fee: none

Estimate: $6,350

"You have to like the furniture here--otherwise, there's no point," says Jill, an Ethan Allen in-house consultant. Ethan Allen (800-228-9229), a chain of more than 300 outlets with a wide range of products, provides free at-home advice to encourage purchases. (Ethan Allen designers undergo two weeks of training and take design classes during the year.)

Jill asks plenty of questions up front and wields a mean tape measure, drawing detailed dimensions to be blocked out later with furnishings. She catches on immediately when I say I want something "handkerchief-y," as opposed to heavy, for the windows. The piano stumps her momentarily, but her face brightens when I acknowledge that we have a basemerit. If we can get it down the stairs (a very big if), "that would be the ideal place for it," she says. (And the end of any actual playing.)

A week later, back at the store, Jill proposes we purchase a computer unit for about $1,700, two bookcases' a love seat to replace our couch, an ottoman and a 4- by 6-foot rug. She also suggests board-mounted fabric triangles for each window, which look handkerchiefy as heck but cost a substantial $1,350. The total comes to $7,000, minus $650 in discounts.

It's an attractive plan, but as Jill warned, it's limited by what the store offers. For instance, although I love the cotton fabric she has chosen for the upholstered pieces, the couch she recommends is too deep, and the one I prefer doesn't come in the same fabric. Plus, over the past few days I've decided that a custom computer unit would work best for our room.