My Design Process | Concept
Oops! It’s been so busy over here that the last two weeks passed me right by. If someone had told me the most difficult part of starting your own business would be keeping up with a blog I simply would not have believed them. But they certainly would have been correct!
I’m so thrilled to be taking on so many projects as of late, but I’ve always been very open and honest on this blog about how exhausted I get from overworking. This job can be quite demanding and a substantial energy drain. When you’re so passionate about something so volatile, you find yourself spending more time than you’d like in a panic. I’m lucky to work with clients who understand when communications slow down for a week or so while I refill my cup. Lately I’ve been day dreaming fervently about a trip to my favorite place: Kripalu. Anyone who has been there will certainly understand why! Maybe 2022 will be the year I finally return back after a long hiatus.
Anyway, I think this is just the right time to write about my conceptualization process, as it is my absolute favorite part of being a designer. Every single thing we do, day in and day out, is to bring our vision to life. And my god, the process to get there is turbulent as hell. Whether it’s not being on the same wavelength as a client or jumping through hoops for a contractor who doesn’t play nice, there are a million things that can go wrong, and most of them do. Houses are fickle creatures at best, and often their worst flaws are hiding beneath the surface, unseen and unimagined until you dig them up.
And that is precisely why the ideating stages are so damn fun. Nothing has gone wrong yet! The budget hasn’t been touched! It’s blue skies forever, baby.
In my practice, conceptualization takes the form of a mood board. Once I meet with you and understand your style and your desires a little better, I tune into my creative energies and imagine your life in the house. This stage is very much about the aesthetics, since we haven’t gotten into any layout changes yet. I develop a color palette, decide what kind of details will suit the project best (Traditional mouldings? Minimalist features? European finishes? Etc.), and start compiling both inspiration and specific pieces that I think are in line with what we are trying to achieve.
I keep things very general in the beginning. Here is a recent mood board I did for a new client. They described their style as a bit eclectic (if you guys are reading this, hi! I’m so excited to be working with you), and shared with me some pieces of furniture they own and are attached to. I also had them share their Pinterest board so I could get a good look at their dream spaces.
All of the images from this mood board were gathered from that Pinterest board. If you are looking to work with me, or any designer, you should 100% create a board! You get to save things you love, and I’ll choose the things that resonate with me as a designer. I can piece them together to create a unique whole that works for you and for me. I have always felt very free when it comes to style… sure there is a look that I like best, but I like to experiment. I am not a one-size-fits-all designer, and that makes it all the more fun.
For this specific mood board I chose to incorporate some pieces that I could see working in the space. I also like to include three words that we will try to encompass while we design (something I learned in grad school). I have always been in love with words, and I find they make the visual all the more rich.
If all goes well, I will have the client approve the mood board - thus our concept is born.
Conceptualization is different for every designer, every client, and varies greatly from residential to commercial design. In design school we had a focus on commercial design, and we were required to come up with these wildly symbolic concepts that would drive our projects. Perhaps it’s because we weren’t actually designing for a real client, or because it was something they just wanted us to learn how to do.
For example, the concept for my thesis project (that I never finished writing about, but here’s a link to the post I did about it way back when) was “The Void”, a.k.a. the universe, consciousness, the human soul, however you like to put it. It was VERY challenging to create a physical structure that truly represented arguably the most abstract concept that exists.
The central physical representation of the void was a massive two-story meditation chamber, kept dark enough so that you could not actually perceive the confines of the space. Kind of “Pit and the Pendulum” style, with a shallow water feature in the middle.
Directly above The Void was The Egg - almost a complete 180 from the atmosphere of the structure below. With a glass top that can open up to the skies, it’s meant for contemplation of our place in the universe and our connection with the heavens.
From the outside, it’s a curious object far greater than human scale, meant to draw people in to investigate further.
Here is a section cut showing how the two major features interact, with a spiral staircase wrapped around them to symbolize our journey through life.
I know this is so extra - and the reason I’m sharing this on my residential design blog is because I want to show you just how big and wild design conceptualization can get. I always start with the story. Your story should shape your home. At the end of the day, your story is our concept. The structural design and furniture/decor sourcing are all meant to reinforce that story.
The next post in this series will cover the design and layout process, which is informed by the concept and how you will use your home. This is the step that everyone likely thinks of when they imagine hiring an interior designer, and it’s such a fun part of the job!
Until next time,
Nicki
