Caroline Turner (42:15)
Literally. Yeah, Just, like, not. I could feel the shift in the air. James didn't notice me. Staring. Too busy flipping through a sample book. I couldn't help myself. I took a few slow steps closer, trying not to make it obvious, but unable to look away. There was something so familiar about her, something that made my stomach twist with an uncomfortable certainty. And then, as if sensing my gaze, the woman turned, her eyes locked on mine. She froze for a moment, then gave a small, confused smile. Hi, she said, voice warm, but with a hint of hesitation. Do I know you? I felt my heart race. The words caught in my throat. I could barely respond before James spoke up from behind me. Hey, babe. Over here. His voice was bright, casual, and utterly unaware of the storm brewing in the space between us. The woman's face shifted, her polite smile slipping for just a fraction of a second, revealing something I couldn't quite place. Then she took a step toward James and kissed him on the cheek, A gesture so intimate that it made the air between us feel too tight. It clicked. This wasn't his wife. This was his side piece, the woman he was building this forever home for. Oh, my God. I felt. And you're just in a stone yard. No, like, what do you do? And this woman is just, like, smirking, like, yeah, I know. I know. You know. Oh, my God. Wearing her big sunglasses. Wow. My God. Yeah. That would be chilling. I'm not sure. I felt heat rising in my chest, anger mixing with disbelief. I forced a smile, trying to hide the disillusionment creeping up on me. I didn't realize you two were working together on this, I said, trying to sound neutral. James turned to me, oblivious. Oh, this is Jessica, he said casually. My partner. Partner. We're just picking out the final pieces for the kitchen. Partner? The words stung in a way I hadn't expected. Jessica gave me another smile, this one cooler than the first. I'm glad we could finally meet, she said, though I sensed there was nothing friendly in her tone. I nodded, trying to remain professional. It's nice to meet you. My voice felt distant, like I was speaking through a fog. James turned back to the stone samples, already back in business mode, as if nothing had happened. But I couldn't shake the feeling that the entire project, this so called forever home, was a L. This wasn't about creating a family space. It was a monument to deceit. See, that's where I would be at. I'd be like, what? He lied to me about everything. This is like a lie. Like I'm in a lie right now. And also, you have to know that information to do your job correctly. Absolutely. It's just a complete and utter bait and switch. Oh, can you imagine just being the designer that, like, knows that he has a wife and you're just oh my God, I can't. I'm really, really trying to think about what I would Next one Next one A few months ago, I was hired by a wonderful family to redesign their living room. The project seemed like a good one. They wanted a comfortable, modern space that still had a cozy, inviting feel. The budget wasn't enormous, but there was enough flexibility to source some beautiful pieces and I was all in. It was the perfect blend of my favorite styles and I was excited to bring it to life. We had a couple of design presentations with lovely but fairly boring final selections. That's the worst. I hate when that happens. But there was one piece I had my eye on. This gorgeous statement sofa I knew would really tie the whole room together. It was high end and a bit more than the client was originally planning to spend, but it was a showstopper. I felt like it would elevate the entire space, so I recommended it. They hesitated, but after some back and forth, they agreed. We moved forward. Now, here's where I need some advice. As the project progressed, I started noticing small details about the family. Things that didn't quite feel right to me, like how they often made comments about how they, quote, needed to save money. Yikes. Or quote, how luxury pieces weren't their thing. I began to second guess that sofa purchase, but at the same time, I had a vision. I didn't want to back out and compromise the integrity of the design, which I do understand. Yeah. Like, clients will often be like waffle. And they'll be like, I. I've been thinking about that, and I'm not sure. And I have to look at them and say, if you can trust me, I promise this will be amazing. Right. But I wouldn't ever do that if I also wasn't 100% sure. Which I think is the, you know. Fast forward to the big reveal. The family loved everything except for the sofa. The moment they saw it, the husband raised an eyebrow, and the wife immediately mentioned how, quote, over the top, it was for their space. They appreciated the design as a whole, but couldn't get over how extravagant the sofa seemed. Was it, like, gilded in 24,000 gold or something? What could have been so extravagant? I don't. What it sounds like to me is buyer's remorse. Yeah. Like, I don't think there was anything wrong with the sofa. I don't think so either. I think that they started realizing, like, at the end of the project, you tally up how much money you spend. Right. Exactly. And if you spend $8,000 on a sofa and you're $15,000 over budget, that $8,000 sofa starts to look like an irresponsible decision. And I think that's when people get a little squir. Honestly, I was gutted. And here's my confession. I knew deep down they weren't truly comfortable with the piece from the start. Well, that's. But I pushed it through anyway. I didn't listen to my gut when I should have, and now I feel like I let them down, like I missed the mark. They haven't mentioned it again, but I can tell there's tension. So here's my question for all of you. How do I navigate this? Should I offer to replace the sofa with something more in line with their budget and style, or should I let it go and trust that I still created a beautiful space? I'm torn between wanting to make things right and feeling like I did deliver what was best for the room, even if they didn't get on board with that one piece? What do you think? How do you deal with situations where, you know a client is unhappy but doesn't come right out and say it? I've been in design for years, but this one's really throwing me help. I. I'm so torn between. I know. It's a. This is a really hard one. Especially since she said she had a gut feeling at the beginning that, like, it wasn't. She shouldn't do it. I guess it's like, for me, if she had had a gut feeling, it wouldn't look right. That would be an issue. Yeah. I think the gut feeling of, like, the client might have an issue with it. I mean, I don't know. It's hard because part of your job is to push your clients to do things outside of the other. Always do. But I agree with you. I mean, if she knew, they're gonna have a problem with this. It sounds like it's custom that can't be returned. Right, Right. That's not something you take a chance on. So. So I don't know. I don't know. And I know that's not the answer that she wants. I think, frankly. And this is probably gonna sound bad. It would depend on the client. Yeah. Yeah. Like, was the client perfect in the rest of the process? And they love every other thing but that one sofa. Did you make enough of a profit that you can absorb the sofa and still not, like, be in the hole? Yeah. If. So, I would say, yeah, congratulations, you now have a new sofa. And I would buy your clients a, like, West Elm, CB2, whatever they feel comfortable with or, you know, maybe offer to. I don't know. There's. There's ways I think you could negotiate that a little bit and. Yeah. Thoughts? I think. Yeah. I. I think the thing is, she went in knowing that they were on a tight budget. Yeah, true. That was. I mean, I. You've had confessions on here where the designer finds out later how cheap. Yeah. How cheap the client is. Yes. So I do think that there needs to be, you know, caution. If they're even hesitant a little, then it does. Okay. Maybe they can't afford this. Yeah. So obviously, when we take on this process, we're doing an allowance that's breaking down, like, what every single thing we think should cost, and then it gives you the total. Right. I think there's gotta be something like that to prepare the client. And I'll say I normally, because furniture is towards the end, because we're often doing construction. And so in that process, I'm educating them, like, here's what you should be spending money on. On. Actually, let's not buy the expensive tile, because I want you to be able to buy this sofa down the line or vice versa. Let's do the expensive tile and we'll do a cheaper sofa. Yeah. So I think, like, our clients give us one number and then we work within that number to make it all work. Hi, I'm Rachel. Hi, Rachel. I'm Rachel, an interior designer. Thank you. And I've got a story that still makes me cringe every time I think about it. It happened at a stone yard and involved a stone rep, a couple of lawyers, and, well, something that should never have happened. I was working with a couple on a full home renovation. They were both lawyers, smart, meticulous, and very particular about everything. Naturally, I was doing my best to ensure every detail was perfect. We were at the stone yard choosing the slabs for their entire home. This is real. The client was already excited about the project and we were narrowing down our options. Everything was going smoothly until we met a new stone rep. We'd never worked with her before, but I assumed things would be fine. I was explaining the difference between honed and polished marble finishes, when out of nowhere, the rep licked her finger and ran it down the slab to demonstrate the difference. Oh, cute. You read that, right? She licked her finger. I froze. My clients, already a bit skeptical, exchanged horrified glances. The wife actually gasped and the husband just stared at me like, is this really happening right now? The rep, oblivious to how uncomfortable the situation had become, continued as if nothing had happened. As you can see, the polished finish would make the stone appear darker. She said, clearly proud of her demonstration. Meanwhile, I was mortified. I tried to recover quickly, redirecting to another slab, but the damage was done. For the rest of the meeting, the mood was tense. My clients were polite, but clearly put off by the incident. Afterward, I had to send a follow up apology to my clients. The whole experience was awkward, to say the least. Needless to say, we worked with a different stone yard. Moral of the story. People are weird. I do think that is probably the moral story. Gross. Like what? I understand what she was trying to do, but also, typically at a stone yard, right next to polished shape, I was a shape. Literally like, you can. I do have every time you go to a stone yard, illustrate honed leathered polish. You can find a slide. They're usually each of her. Oh, my goodness. It's also because, like, you don't know who's a germaphobe and like, I have some clients that like, would literally be like, we are not working with these people. Because who knows what's going on behind the scenes if they're licking a lab in front of us. Look, I've done Tons and thousands of appointments, right? Walk through demonstrations, telling the stories, different materials. Let's take Soapstone, right?
