To-The-Trade with Interior Design Community

Yvonne Christensen didn't plan to build a design partnership. She and her now business partner, Nicole (Nikki), ran separate solo practices for about ten years before an organic collaboration on a Parade of Homes project, taken on while Yvonne was expecting a baby, turned into a full merger three years later. Nearly six years in, Christensen walks through how they structured the partnership to last: merged furniture buying power and joint accounts from the start, separate billing for hours worked in the early years, and a operating agreement they revisit regularly as their roles shift. A year ago they brought on a business coach who typically works with CEOs, meeting weekly for three hours. He's helped them build an organizational chart and forced overdue conversations about financials and communication. Christensen says the biggest surprise wasn't the partnership itself but how much back-end work employees created. The conversation gets specific on pricing. The firm bills hourly for design work until plans go to engineering, then flat fee once square footage is set, reverting to hourly past 18 months. Christensen spends about ninety minutes consulting clients and calls their builder directly to clarify documentation expectations before quoting. Furniture requires full payment before ordering and a second retainer before staging, so clients rarely face a surprise bill at project close. Consistent builder relationships are, in her words, key to staffing and profitability, since repeat work with the same builders cuts the learning curve on subcontractors and allowances. She also shares that furniture and design fees carry comparable profit margins percentage-wise, though furniture produces higher total dollars, and margins vary by builder based on how much oversight a project requires. This year the firm opted out of Parade of Homes for the first time in ten years, taking a deliberate break after years of tight, high-pressure timelines, even though the parade has historically driven strong long-term referrals. Looking forward, Christensen and Nikki are pursuing product licensing, and Yvonne recently joined the Moen Design Council through an organic industry connection. The episode wraps with a few personal notes: her favorite spaces to design are libraries and additional sitting rooms, her belief that a house should always feel personal, and a favorite project on a ranch property in Kanab, Utah, where a client's handful of found rocks set the entire material palette.

Jaclyn Isaac, an interior designer at Donnie Douglas Designs, built Nest Freight , a new freight-and-receiving platform for the trade, after two costly wake-up calls. While seven months pregnant and managing a high-end install in Fort Lee, New Jersey, she discovered her receiver had left boxes unopened for months, resulting in thousands of dollars in damage and a ruined client experience. Separately, a $900 freight quote for $6,000 worth of hand-carved Italian marble tile came back at $3,000 when it was time to actually ship. A friend with a logistics background, now her co-founder, got the same shipment delivered for $541. That gap between quoted and actual freight cost is the core problem Nest Freight solves. Jaclyn says her team sees average savings of $150 to $200 every time they requote a shipment, and the long-term goal is to use collective industry volume to negotiate better group rates directly with carriers. Nest Freight soft launched in March with almost no marketing. Jaclyn's original goal was 100 signed-up firms; the platform is at about 21 so far, entirely through word of mouth. She and Laurie discuss why adoption has been slower than the savings would suggest: most designers have never thought to requote their own freight, and getting a second quote feels like extra work on top of an already full plate. The company has expanded into receiving in New Jersey, Southern California and San Diego, and Florida, matching where most of its current users are based. Jaclyn is direct about what makes receiving hard to get right: pricing transparency, since designers routinely get surprise invoices weeks after delivery, and inspection quality, since a generic warehouse may not catch the kind of damage a designer would flag on a high-end piece. She shares an example of spotting small tears in leather on a studio chair that a standard receiver likely would have missed. The conversation also covers insurance gaps most designers do not consider until something goes wrong, including freight carriers' low default liability caps and receivers not insuring items in storage on a designer's behalf. Jaclyn and Laurie both recommend using AI to review vendor contracts and identify actual liabilities before signing. Jaclyn is offering IDC listeners a discount through Nest Freight, code IDC2026 , for one free month.

Christie Leu spent fifteen years as a self-employed fine craft artist before a contractor called her a serial redecorator and asked her to help style his clients' homes. That request became Christie Leu Interiors, now in its 13th year serving Maryland, Northern Virginia, Washington D.C., and the Eastern Shore. Leu traces her business instincts back to age fifteen, when she noticed she was earning about $100 an hour making pottery at night and $1 an hour babysitting during the day. That early awareness of her own value still drives how she prices today: $300 an hour for herself, $110 an hour for her assistant, $150 an hour for drafters. Her take on flat fee pricing is direct. Skipping hour tracking because you charge a flat fee is how designers lose money without realizing it. Much of the conversation with Laurie Laizure and Nile Johnson traces how directly her art background feeds her design work, from color memory to composition to balancing an off-center fireplace, plus a formative tax seminar at 23 that taught her to read her own numbers from day one. One of the episode's sharpest stories involves a lighting vendor whose polished pitch on lumens and product specs never answered the question Leu actually needed answered: what's the payoff for the designer, and how do I explain the value to my client? She pushed back hard, and the larger lesson holds: vendors chasing designer referrals need to speak to the designer's business reality, not just the product's features. Leu also unpacks a client's comment questioning an email line item on her invoice. Her answer: about 80 percent of her time goes to email, coordinating contractors, tradespeople, vendors, and warehouses so that a twenty-component window treatment order stays on schedule. Actual designing is closer to 8 percent of the job. She closes with a peer group she helped start, built on a business-of-design foundation and still meeting monthly with outside experts, plus a quick lightning round: kitchens and baths are her favorite rooms, gray is the trend she's ready to retire, and murals and window treatments are the splurges she always defends.

Karen Laos learned to negotiate at six, when her dad handed her a few dollars at a flea market and told her to have fun but never pay full price. Twenty-five years into a communication career, she joins Laurie Laizure to talk about the part designers struggle with most: what to say in the seconds after you name your price. Karen has coached at NASA, Google, and other large brands. She left corporate in 2019 to help 10 million women overcome self-doubt and communicate with confidence in 10 years, and she is about halfway there. The turning point was a boardroom where she could not get the words out. Her boss shut down the meeting, then told her she could have simply tabled it. Karen's takeaway was not embarrassment. It was a question: why do I keep asking for permission? The most quotable moment in the episode is a negotiation she ran from a loading dock. An HR contact asked her rate, she gave it, and the line went quiet. Karen let the silence sit, then asked How does that land with you. The answer was that she was significantly higher than other coaches under consideration. Karen said, I recognize that I'm higher than most. Is that a deal breaker? It was not. She also walks through a recent decision to hold a new speaking minimum, turning down $3,500 and a paid trip rather than negotiate against her own word. Within days she met someone on a plane and opened a six-figure conversation. Her framing: your rate is a decision, not a feeling you wait to have. The scary part is the trapeze gap between letting go of one bar and catching the next. Laurie brings it back to design economics. Reverse-engineer the number from salary, rent, overhead, insurance, and retirement, and unprofitable projects stop being emotional decisions. She also raises the scenario designers fight most: a client reverse-images a chair and finds it cheaper online. Karen's answer is to handle it proactively by deciding what you are available for and setting the parameters at the start of the engagement, rather than defending them mid-project. The lightning round delivers the practical layer. The sentences to practice: that doesn't work for me, and I'm not available for that. The word to retire: sorry. The credibility leaks: I think, maybe, kind of, does that make sense. And the cheapest improvement available to anyone, which is recording yourself on a client call and listening back.

You get maybe twenty good photos of a finished install in a year. There are 365 days in the year. What fills the rest? Most designers cycle the same images or go quiet, while the thing clients actually want to see- the process and the reasoning and the real cost- never leaves the designer's head. Shannon Ggem hit that wall for ten years. She posted three times a week and earned roughly one new follower every three months, most of them people she met face to face at trade shows. Then she agreed to be the private case study for a new content system from Laurie Laizure at Interior Design Community. This To-The-Trade conversation is the thirty-day debrief. The first fix was not strategic. Laurie told Shannon to drop the filters, and the numbers moved immediately. In a feed increasingly full of AI-generated talking heads, looking like an actual person is now an advantage. The second fix was scripting, which Shannon resisted hard. Being told to be authentic and then handed a script feels contradictory. The comparison changed her mind: scripted videos are cleaner, shorter, and free of her natural repetition. The workflow is practical. Build the script from your own talking points, edit it in Notes until it sounds like you, paste it into the teleprompter in Edits, record one paragraph at a time, delete bad takes as you go, and curate your photos before you open the app. Shannon's most useful admission is about the times she reverted to her old habits. Those posts took longer and performed worse. Her top two videos in the whole feed were made with no makeup, in pajamas, in about ten minutes. The back half widens out. Laurie tracks what featuring a brand does for that brand, which is fifty new followers at minimum and sometimes 250, and makes the case for naming makers out loud so handcrafted work becomes desirable instead of anonymous. Shannon talks about posting on drawings, a topic she assumed nobody wanted, and finding that clients rebuilding after the fires very much did. Both push toward publishing real timelines and cost ranges alongside the satisfying before and after reels. There is also a good stretch on emotional resistance, which for Shannon disguised itself as a file management problem and nearly killed a post about her first career as a scream queen. That post was a hit. The month ended at 158,800 views and 990 new followers, plus a licensing conversation, a referral, and two paid brand collaborations. IDC is opening the process up to the full community.

Susan Jamieson founded Bridget Berry Designs, a Richmond, Virginia-based design firm named after her rescue dogs rather than herself, a branding choice she made so the business could grow and change hands independent of her own name. Over 35 years, she's built the firm into a home store, a paint line, a wallpaper line, and most recently a self-published book. Susan's move into design happened by chance. She started college aiming to become a stockbroker, then fell in love with the field while sitting in on her mother's renovation meetings with an architect and designer. She switched paths and never looked back. The paint and wallpaper lines both grew out of the same problem: she could never find the exact color or pattern she needed, so she started making her own. She encourages designers to support smaller, designer-led product lines because they offer flexibility larger brands can't, including custom colors and scaling. Her new book, Bridget Berry Color Rules, expanded from a blog into 70 rules on color theory, inspiration, and practical application, aimed at homeowners but also useful as a refresher for designers. She self-published to control pricing and margin, printing through a manufacturer in China. Susan and Laurie talk through AI's limits in design work, agreeing that AI struggles with scale and can't replace the judgment and delivery work designers provide. Susan walks through her client process, including a New York condo project for repeat clients whose usual traditional style doesn't match their new space. Asked about her biggest business mistake, Susan points to overstaffing early in her career and the payroll and tax burden that came with it. She's since scaled her design team down to three people. Her pricing has evolved from purely hourly to a mix of hourly site visit billing and flat project fees with built-in time limits, since client indecision, not design work, tends to drive delays. The episode wraps with a quick round on Susan's personal preferences and a look at what's next, including a new fabric line and a booth at High Point featuring the book, wallpaper, and new lampshade designs.

Laurie Laizure and Nile Johnson talk with Tara Kelley, founder of TJK Bookkeeping and a longtime friend of Laurie's, about one of the biggest struggles in the design industry: financial clarity. Tara built her career in corporate finance before starting her own firm, where she now works with several interior design clients. The conversation covers why most designers never feel like they have a firm handle on their numbers, especially without dedicated support. Tara explains the value of working with a bookkeeper who specializes in design, since industry-specific knowledge helps her spot red flags, benchmark margins, and guide better decisions around marketing and staffing. The group discusses the monthly P&L as Tara's go-to report, and why so many designers don't know what a P&L even is, largely because design software doesn't present financials in a useful way. They talk through profitability by product category, using appliances (low margin) versus cabinetry, tile, and upholstery (higher margin) as examples, and make the case for breaking revenue into visual, granular buckets so designers can see where their profit really comes from. Tara shares that nearly all of her recurring clients came to her with messy books, and most engagements start with a cleanup project. Nile highlights how important that honesty is, since fear of judgment keeps many designers from getting help in the first place. Tara reassures listeners that she never judges, she just gets things cleaned up. The episode also touches on bigger financial decisions, like investing in show houses, marketing events, and trade shows like High Point Market, and how these decisions often carry an emotional weight that can cloud good business judgment. Tara closes with two pieces of advice for designers at any stage: keep personal and business finances completely separate, and reconcile accounts every month to catch errors before they compound. The conversation ends with a discussion of pricing models (hourly, flat fee, and project-based) and how each affects a designer's ability to track and protect their profit.

Laurie Laizure talks with Morgan Finley of Morgan and Hatch Design about the reel series that put Morgan on Laurie's radar, "Who's Gonna Clean That," and what it revealed about why designers should show more of the real, unfiltered version of their work. Morgan explains how a single viral video, a fluted marble hood nobody wants to clean, drove roughly 3,000 new followers and kept compounding as shares and saves pushed it through the algorithm. Laurie adds a tip: repost a viral video again after about ten days, since it typically performs just as well. The two dig into the industry's core communication problem. Laurie cites a recent poll where 95 percent of designers said the public doesn't understand their value, and both agree that's the industry's job to fix. Laurie's definition of the work: designers make the plan, then hold everyone, including the client, to it, catching problems like a crooked tile or a beautiful but impossible-to-clean finish before they become regrets. Morgan shares her own shift from an aspirational content persona to a relatable one, and how showing her real, builder-grade home, instead of hiding it, made her content connect. They talk through simple production tools (background eliminators, CapCut, clean sound) and Morgan's advice to always include a "why me" statement so viewers know what makes a designer worth following. Money comes up often. Post-pandemic pricing shifts, tariffs, and supply chain issues have changed costs significantly, and both agree a big part of the job is walking clients through what things actually cost. Morgan notes that budget size doesn't predict a good client relationship. What matters is whether the client values the designer's judgment. They also discuss why designers rarely support each other publicly compared to fields like photography, and agree the real competition is homeowners who never learn a better option exists, not other designers. Morgan describes cross-promoting with contractors and subcontractors, and Laurie shares ideas for local, client-relevant content that also builds goodwill with nearby businesses. They swap examples of practical, budget-conscious fixes, such as updating cabinet hardware instead of replacing custom cabinets and honing stone countertops instead of tearing them out, to show that good design advice is often about smart choices, not expensive ones Laurie closes with a simple starting point: a clear bio with contact information, plus three pinned videos, an introduction, a company overview, and a project showcase, and mentions Interior Design Community's upcoming content challenge with free scripts and images for designers ready to start posting.

Chris Laumer-Giddens joins Laurie Laizure to talk about building science, the study of why homes fail and how to build them so they last for generations instead of twenty years. Chris works with his wife, Jody, who has owned LG Squared since 2006; he joined in 2012 after specializing in indoor air quality, rot, mold, and thermal failures. LG Squared handles architecture, interiors, and mechanical, electrical, plumbing, and structural design under one roof. His clearest rule: "Foam is a four-letter word." The firm avoids spray foam and other toxic, plastic-based materials entirely, building instead with natural materials and traditional joinery. Chris has seen a client collapse from spray-foam fumes on-site and has replaced mechanical systems damaged by off-gassing. His real point is that improper installation, not any single material, is what causes most building failures. Much of the problem, he says, comes from builders and architects who simply do not know what they do not know, often working from bad information that circulates as trade wisdom. He encourages designers and architects to ask questions without embarrassment, the same way architecture licensing exams teach you to find answers rather than memorize them. That gap led Chris to get his GC license, and he eventually built about half a dozen homes, including a five-million-dollar off-grid homestead. He now often works as an owner's agent, vetting builders and catching costly mistakes before clients buy or build. Pricing gets concrete. LG Squared's billable rate runs $350 to $500 an hour, padded roughly 30 percent for follow-up time, and wealthier clients tend to prefer a fixed lump sum over hourly billing. The firm now charges $2,500 for an initial two-hour site visit, down from offering it free, after giving away too many high-value ideas. Chris also shares a sobering legal story. A $7,000 liability cap meant nothing when a lawsuit landed on LG Squared, and the firm ended up roughly $200,000 out of pocket because the builder did not defend them as promised. He and Jody have weathered two lawsuits and real PTSD from the experience. The two also discuss running a firm together as spouses, working through early ego friction, and how Chris's YouTube content, which Jody avoids, became the firm's biggest source of trust-based, design-build clients. The episode closes with a tour of the couple's new apartment in a chateau in southwest France.

Jameelah Watkins-Mallett, founder of Lauren Wesley Designs and creator of the CASE Collective conference , talks with Laurie Laizure and Nile Johnson about trust between designers, real talk about money, and the path that took her from doing hair at twelve years old to running a thriving design and events business. The conversation opens with a candid look at why designers hide their best work online, often out of fear of judgment from other designers rather than clients. That leads into a story about a breach of trust within a private community, where a comment in a group chat made its way back to a client. Jameelah and Laurie compare notes on the ground rules that keep community spaces safe, including zero tolerance for fraud and strict confidentiality. Jameelah shares her career story: years in bridal hair and events with business partner Ebony, the referral that became her first interior project, a feature on Martha Stewart's blog, and the pandemic pivot that pushed her fully into interiors. Her first full year in business brought seven projects, almost entirely through word of mouth. She also describes the early luck of working with a contractor who ran his job site like clockwork, a level of professionalism she later realized was rare in the industry. A large portion of the episode covers the CASE Collective conference, which Jameelah built to address underrepresentation in design. She talks through adjusting her messaging after learning some designers felt excluded by a conference designed to be inclusive, and the group discusses what it means to build community spaces around shared experience, whether that experience is rooted in race, geography, or access. The conversation also touches on how rural and urban designers face very different barriers to finding clients with design budgets. The episode also tackles money directly. Jameelah and Laurie push back against the industry's discomfort with discussing pricing, profit margins, and paying yourself, and Jameelah notes that even a modest conference budget can run close to six figures. She shares a coaching example about helping a designer in a rural market find the right neighborhoods to target. The group wraps with a discussion of content creation, weighing direct, education-first social content against rage-bait trends that can alienate potential clients, followed by a lightning round and details on the CASE Conference, happening October 1 through 3 in Atlanta.

Sharon Sherman of Thyme and Place Design has 40-plus years of experience across interior design and kitchen and bath, and that dual perspective gives her an unusually clear view of what's broken among designers, showrooms, and brands, and what actually works. The episode digs into a gap that's been widening since COVID. Clients are changing. Showrooms are closing. Brands that want the designer market often don't understand what that market actually needs. Sharon is direct: brands spend heavily on events and PR that completely miss designers, then blame the design community for being unsupportive. What designers want, she says, is to be welcomed and inspired, not sold to. They want solutions that improve projects and make businesses more profitable. She illustrates the dysfunction with a personal story. She visited a company's showroom repeatedly over several years before placing her first $45,000 order. Her rep never once reached out. The rep finally appeared after multiple large orders had already been placed. The showroom had benefited from her loyalty. The brand had no relationship with her at all. Her own approach is intentional. About 25 accounts across furniture, flooring, wall covering, and accessories, not a hundred. Deep relationships that go both ways: her showroom contacts know her well enough to advise her clients in her absence, and to tell her when a material won't work before she specifies it. She credits those relationships with saving her from costly mistakes, from wrong seaming placement on countertops to finding the right specialized installer for a gym floor. The "dinner plate" analogy she offers is one of the episode's most practical frameworks. Large vendors for core products, local showrooms for regional sourcing, and one or two specialty partners for the pieces that matter most. Managing that mix on purpose, rather than by default, is a business decision. On direct purchasing, her view is nuanced. Better margins are real, but only if the infrastructure supports it: receiving relationships, purchase volume that makes the brand care, and the capacity to absorb what goes wrong. For many solo designers, the showroom relationship is the more profitable choice once all the hidden costs are factored in. She closes with a prediction: the industry is dividing into conveyor belt design and what she calls painterly design. One fills spaces efficiently. The other curates them intentionally. The right clients, the right vendors, and the right relationships will determine which side of that divide each designer ends up on.

Jenny York, VP of Marketing at Currey & Company, joins Laurie for a conversation about what it actually takes to build a brand that designers want to work with. Currey is approaching its 40th anniversary as a second-generation family-owned business, now led by founder Robert and Suzy Currey's son Brownlee. That independence shapes everything, including creative risk-taking, the decision to hold real inventory, and the culture of high-touch relationship-building that makes their showrooms feel like a reunion every market week. Jenny brings nearly 30 years of experience in the home furnishings industry to her role, including 20 years in editorial, covering trade shows, market centers, and the rise of designers as a major distribution channel. That history gives her a different lens. She saw firsthand which companies made the shift to being designer-friendly and which didn't, and she watched Currey become an early adopter of that change. Some of the most practical takeaways in the conversation: being genuinely designer-friendly means restructuring your warehouse, customer service, and sales team, not just hanging a welcome sign. It means valuing the small orders, not just tolerating them. And it means being honest that some people on your team won't make that cultural shift, and being willing to act on that. What makes a designer stand out to a brand like Currey? Coming to market in person always matters. But the tip Laurie and Jenny return to is simpler: photograph your finished project, own your copyright, and share those images directly with the manufacturers who made it. Currey can't shoot thousands of products in real homes. When a designer shares installation images and does so freely, that's genuine brand partnership, and it tends to pay off in relationships that hold up when things go wrong. On the industry at large: Jenny sees a real shift toward quality and away from fast furniture, AI has a place in analytics and projections but not in Currey's creative voice, and the consolidation of trade shows means every in-person interaction counts more than it used to. Currey is expanding carefully into adjacent product categories, most recently cordless lighting and bath vanities, with a new addition coming this fall. They'll be in Atlanta, Dallas, and Las Vegas this summer.

Kimberly Kerl is an architect and designer based in South Carolina with thirty years of experience, and her episode with Laurie and Nile covers a lot of ground: client process, billing, trends, and an honest read on where the market is right now. She starts with video. Kimberly has been documenting a live renovation at her own home, posting unscripted walk-throughs from the job site multiple times a week. Her audience is hooked. The value, she says, is in closing the knowledge gap. Clients have no idea what a pocket door actually involves until they see the framing and the electrical relocation happen in real time. Video makes that visible and, eventually, makes billing conversations easier. Her intake process is tight. Every inquiry gets a free 15-minute discovery call, followed by a paid on-site consultation ($375 to $600) where she requires both decision-makers to be present. She's evaluating communication styles, priorities, and who the real decision-maker is, all before she writes a single word of a proposal. The proposal arrives within one to two days, ties directly to her contract, and breaks the project into four phases with clear fees attached to each. She doesn't collect a retainer and has never been burned doing it that way. A recurring theme in her work is the renovate vs. move question. Clients come to her undecided, and with today's interest rates, the math often favors staying put. She helps them work through it, and most do continue forward. Multi-generational living is also driving more projects, with adult children back home and aging parents needing accommodation. Kimberly designs proactively for privacy, acoustics, and flexibility even when clients aren't thinking about it yet. On trends, outdoor living is fully mature in South Carolina. She's installing dishwashers, ice makers, retractable screens, and layered lighting in spaces that function year-round. Health and wellness is the next wave, with saunas showing up at every trade show and home gyms becoming genuinely well-designed spaces. Smart home tech is valuable when it works quietly in the background, and a good integrator makes all the difference. The market has slowed. Inquiries are down, contractors are calling her rather than the other way around, and clients are cautious. Kimberly sees it as a market correction after an unusually long run, not a reason to panic. It's cyclical, and it always has been.

Tracee Murphy has spent 26 years in luxury residential design, runs her firm Trademark Interiors, and teaches designers and brands how to leverage psychology for a competitive edge through her platform, The Designer Launch. Her title, The Design Biz Therapist, is not a metaphor. She believes the gap between a struggling design business and a thriving one often has nothing to do with talent, portfolio, or pricing and everything to do with emotional intelligence. The conversation starts where Tracee says every project should start: with the designer. Before reading a client, you have to be able to read yourself. That means knowing your triggers, recognizing when your emotions are shaping your decisions, and building the self-awareness to pause before you react. No system, no contract, and no questionnaire does its job without it. On the client side, Tracee has developed a lifestyle questionnaire that serves a dual purpose. On the surface, it collects project information. Underneath, the answers reveal how a client makes decisions, how much control they want, how they handle problems, and what they need to feel confident in a process they do not fully understand. Tracee feeds those answers into AI to build a psychological profile, then uses that profile to calibrate how her team communicates, not to reinvent her process, but to tailor her language. A control-oriented client might get more specific updates. A hands-off client gets the same template with less added. The process stays the same. The communication flexes. That consistency matters because trust is not built in a first meeting. It is built through leadership. Tracee talks about what happens when a designer lets a client take the wheel, from choosing tiles together in a showroom to absorbing last-minute changes from an absent partner who never signed off on anything. In her firm, all decision makers are required to attend every meeting. If someone new comes in six months later wanting to change direction, the conversation is clear: here is what that costs, here is how it changes the timeline, and it is your call. The business results are real. Over five years of intentionally implementing emotional intelligence practices, Tracee's firm's profits doubled. She also had a heart attack at 48 during a client presentation. The two facts are connected. The boundary work is not just about money. It is about staying in this industry long enough to do great work. The Designer Launch offers courses on the psychology of interior design, conflict management, and selling luxury. Follow Tracee at @thedesignbiztherapist on Instagram and visit thedesignerlaunch.com to learn more.

Eric Dillman started in interior design school, moved into sales and digital marketing, and now works directly with designers to help them show up consistently on social media and stop waiting for the perfect moment to post. In this conversation with Laurie Laizure and Nile Johnson, he gets into what designers should prioritize, how to stay consistent when life gets hard, and how to finally get on camera. On platforms, Instagram remains the primary play for most designers. It's visual, it's where clients are, and Meta rewards native posting. LinkedIn is useful for brand and manufacturer relationships, not client leads. YouTube Shorts is quietly building, and Laurie notes that YouTube feeds AI search in ways worth paying attention to. The simplest strategy is to find one platform where you can perform well and automate distribution to the rest. On content: designers are sitting in a content goldmine and don't know it. The mistake is thinking in terms of final outcomes— the reveal, the finished room. Clients want the process. They want to know who's in their house, why you made the choices you made, and what goes into a recommendation they might have taken for granted. Tag your brands. Document your decisions. That context is something no influencer can fake, because they weren't on the job. On consistency: batch your content. Eric records podcast episodes months ahead and coaches designers to keep a running camera roll of unposted content so that when a hard week hits, the feed keeps going. Laurie adds that reposting something from six months ago is completely fair—most people won't remember, and the ones who do will just say it was a good one. On-camera fear: Nile admits he has the ring light and the mic and still doesn't use them. Eric didn't show his face on his own profile for two years. His starting point: a tight one-minute script, built with AI, run through a panel of AI critics to strengthen it before you record. Use Instagram's free Edits app for teleprompter, green screen, and clip-by-clip recording. Flub a sentence, delete that clip, move on. Post it, then put your phone down. Your biggest supporters will be strangers who connect with your work -- not your inner circle. The episode closes with an idea Laurie and Eric are both clearly excited about: a challenge to get 10,000 interior designers making videos, using shared scripts and a common hashtag.

Rhobin DelaCruz has been designing for over 18 years, but he didn't attend High Point Market until about 2.5 years ago. The turning point was business coaching, specifically understanding that designers who build direct vendor relationships and sell to their clients themselves can capture 20 to 100 percent profit on goods, compared to the 10 to 20 percent that comes from sending someone to a retailer. That math made the trip worth taking. In this episode of To-The-Trade , Rhobin talks with Laurie Laizure and Nile Johnson about how his approach to the market has evolved with each visit. His first was about observation. His second was intentional: meet the right people, make a lasting impression, and leave market with contacts who would remember his name. That shift in strategy set off a chain of relationships that has shaped his business in ways he didn't see coming. This spring, Rhobin is a High Point Market Style Spotter. He's leading a Saturday tour focused on just two showrooms, Classic Home and Sunpan, and plans to highlight the campus's outer areas that most attendees skip. His practical navigation advice: download the app, group your visits by building, and wear broken-in shoes. Fashion is a real thing at High Point, but the market day calls for comfort first. Some of his best advice is the bigger picture: go in with a strategy, but stay open to who you meet. That's how the Design Besties came together. Rhobin met Whitney Atkinson, Laurie Johnson, and Nikki Watson at the VRD Summit, and the four bonded on a group showroom tour at his second market. He started a group text after the trip. Two years later, they're in daily contact and serve as each other's informal board of advisors. From that group came the Teachers Lounge Movement, now a 501C3 nonprofit. When Nikki suggested designing a teacher's lounge for a local school instead of her own backyard, the group immediately said yes. The emotional reveal from that first project changed the trajectory of all four designers' work. Their High Point collaboration with High Point by Design brought in over 20 brands and more than $50,000 in donated furniture. The episode also covers how visibility in this industry is actually earned, why follow-up is the skill most designers undervalue, and why the path to becoming a Style Spotter or panel guest has nothing to do with paying to play. Rhobin's Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/rhobindelacruzdesigns/ Website: https://rhobindelacruz.com/

Houston designer Juliana Ewer has been going to High Point Market almost every year since 2018. In this episode of To-The-Trade, she and host Laurie Laizure make the practical, financial, and professional case for why market attendance matters not as a perk, but as a real competitive edge. The conversation starts where Juliana always starts: product knowledge. You can't do a sit test online. When a client says they want a firmer seat or a fabric that holds up to daily family life, the designer who has been in the showroom and sat in the chair already knows what to recommend. Laurie adds that the market also helps you spot saturation. She walks through the boucle moment, when every showroom in the same year had the same off-white fabric, and experienced designers immediately clocked that it was already over. You only see that pattern from a bird's eye view. The quality difference between trade-only and retail brands is clear. If the general public knows a store by name, the company has spent a lot of money on marketing rather than on materials. The brands at High Point that don't run national campaigns typically reinvest that budget into the product. Juliana illustrates this with a vendor who, months after delivery, identified a frame issue from a single photograph and coordinated a full pickup and rework around her client's schedule, including a family wedding. That level of service is what protects a designer's reputation when something goes wrong. Practical market tips run throughout the episode: comfortable shoes, leave the laptop at home, let vendors mail the catalogs, and plan your showroom route around the education sessions. The 313 Space gets a recommendation for its natural light and boutique vendors. The Antique and Design Center at Market Square opens a day early on Thursday, and things move fast. Hooker's outdoor deck is the reset button when the day gets overwhelming. Juliana leads Insider Tours for High Point Market Authority and is leading a Hotspot Tour this year as part of the StyleSpotter program. She came to market for the first time as a new designer in 2018, went to every education session she could find, and met a stranger on the shuttle who became a lasting friend. The market is where relationships are built with vendors and other designers, and sometimes with the version of your business you didn't know you were building.

Jill Erwin started her interior design business in 2006, survived the recession, and recently hit the 20-year mark with a rebrand: Just Jill Home. She joined Laurie and Nile on To-The-Trade to discuss what it actually takes to get to the point where you charge what you are worth and stay there. Pricing was the throughline. Jill has spent years attending industry panels where designers reference rates without ever naming a number. Her take: just say it. Based on the market data Laurie shared, designers at the 20-year mark are operating in the $250 to $300 per hour range, with major metro markets pushing considerably higher. Jill confirmed she is moving toward $250 in Richmond and is clear-eyed about why: that is what her experience is worth. To give clients a lower-risk entry point, Jill developed two introductory service tiers she calls Quick and Fast (2.5 hours) and Short and Sweet (5 hours). Both were designed to let her assess a client's and a project's fit before moving into a full contract. If the dynamic feels off, she has a structured way out. If it feels right, she moves forward. The contract itself has evolved over 20 years, adding photography rights, scope protections, and other clauses she learned to include the hard way. Design philosophy came through in the specifics. She described a multigenerational family room near the Chesapeake Bay where she fit seven individual seats, a sofa, and a round leather ottoman into a cohesive plan, each piece chosen for how a specific family member actually uses the room. She also talked through a repeat client who came back after 15 years as an empty nester. Jill designed a custom coffee station with navy cabinetry and a bistro table, built around how the client now starts her mornings. The broader conversation circled back to the same point Jill has spent 20 years learning: designers who undercharge are not just hurting themselves. They are giving away equity that belongs in their own businesses and households. The client benefits. The designer absorbs the cost. Jill's new website, Just Jill Home, launches May 1, 2026. She can be found on Instagram at [@justjillhome](https://www.instagram.com/justjillhome/).

Maria Khouri grew up in Beirut during Lebanon's 15-year civil war, moving 12 times in 10 years. She has spent her career making homes in San Francisco that feel like exactly that: home. Her boutique firm handles high-end residential work across the US and into Europe, and her commercial clients hire her for the same reason her residential clients do. They want spaces that feel personal. In this episode, Maria walks through the elements that define her practice. Every project includes one piece made by a Lebanese artisan, a signature Easter egg that connects her two countries and opens clients' eyes to artists and art forms they have never encountered. Her onboarding process relies on a 20-slide visual presentation that shows clients exactly what working with her entails, from mood boards to reveal day. She credits this tool with a measurable improvement in her closing rate. The pricing conversation is one of the most honest in recent memory. Maria charges $300/hour in San Francisco and argues that even flat-fee designers should know their effective hourly rate. Without that math, she says, you are likely leaving money on the table and will not know why. Nile and Laurie weigh in from their own experience, and the tension is productive. There are real reasons to charge both ways. The key is knowing what you are actually earning. The highlight of the episode is the story about the Hermes scarf. A Los Altos Hills client asked Maria to translate a framed Hermes scarf into a foyer floor. The result was a custom marble mosaic featuring 25 different stone colors, designed in collaboration with an Italian artisan who flew his team to California for the installation. The client still talks about it. Maria also shares how she uses AI for renderings and elevations without compromising her design process or her clients' IP. She is thoughtful about what she will and will not give a platform access to, and that carefulness is a lesson for any firm. Trust your gut on clients, she says. The same goes for the tools you let into your business. Quick-fire round: bouclé is overused, invest in antiques, wallpaper never gets old, and please pay attention to your outlets and plugs. Visit Maria at [ mariakhouri.com ]( https://www.mariakhouri.com/ ) and follow her work on Instagram at [@mariakinteriors]( https://www.instagram.com/mariakinteriors/ ).

Kelly Collier-Clark of House of Clark Interiors came to interior design after nearly 20 years in corporate America, a real estate license, and a full life lived before she ever took her first design client. When House Beautiful named her a Next Wave Designer, she found out at a restaurant and cried in the bathroom. It was earned. In this conversation with Laurie Laizure and Nile Johnson, Kelly gets into the real work behind confidence, the business logic behind marketing strategy, and why pricing clarity is a professional responsibility, not just a personal choice. On confidence: Kelly is direct. She did the work. Temple University's design program. Paid mentorship. Years of corporate experience in rooms where she was often the only woman and the only Black woman. The confidence she brought to design didn't come out of nowhere. And her message to newer designers is consistent: faith without works is dead. Show up, do the work, and the confidence follows. On strategy: Laurie opens with a marketing story about a small bikini brand that infiltrated a celebrity's inner circle before going directly to the celebrity. Kelly connects it to the sphere-of-influence principles from her real estate training. Know your ideal client. Know where they spend time. Be in those rooms. She's moved intentionally to LinkedIn because that's where her former corporate colleagues, the professionals with real budgets, are spending time. On showing up as yourself: Kelly's best content advice is also her clearest. Clients are doing research before they ever reach out. They're watching your stories. She's had new clients mention her honeymoon location in the first consultation. That level of trust doesn't come from AI-generated captions. It comes from consistently showing up and being authentic over time. On pricing: No designer should charge less than $100/hour. Kelly takes it further: lowballing doesn't just hurt the individual designer. It sets a market standard that affects everyone. New designers especially need to hear this. Running a project doesn't get easier just because you're newer. If anything, it's harder. Charge accordingly. The conversation also covers the "free design" offered by big-box retailers, why it's furniture sales, not design, and how smart designers can use quality comparisons as direct content to attract the right clients. Find Kelly at House of Clark Interiors and on Instagram @kellycollierclark .