Dear Sean,

Maybe it is a sign of the times or maybe it is just me, but I am a successful female designer in the residential field, and no matter what I do, my clients tend to treat me as a flighty artist when it comes to numbers. This is especially true when I have to go over my hourly billing or explain why some items cost what they do. It is so frustrating that even though I am so careful about both, even my best clients (both men and women) never seem to fully trust that I am on their side and question why I charge what I do. What can I do to change this dynamic?

Tired of No Trust

Dear Tired,

Many of my clients have been and will continue to be women, people of color and gay men. Overarching all, including straight white men, is the stereotype of the flighty artist. No matter the size and scale of the project, the prevailing bias is that a design business is not “serious” in the way it goes about doing what it does—that it’s more a flight of fancy than a business with real profit margins and prices. Were that I was out of touch and that this bias did not exist in 2025. Sadly—oh so sadly—it does. It is what you experience, subtle or not, daily.

Despite platforms like The Expert demonstrating the absolute value of design, most designers like you have to exceed the highest standards of professionalism to get the credibility that is assumed for other professions. Would you ever talk to your doctor, lawyer or accountant the way some clients speak to you and your team? Of course not. So, to change the dynamic for you and other designers, let’s focus on three very important areas: money, design, and the “I made you—you owe me” trope.

MONEY
If you get flustered when initiating money talks, know that the conversation is much more about power than money. When I ask you what you charge, you have to tell me how much you are worth, not just the thing you will be producing. So many designers relate much of their value to the cost of production by charging a markup on goods and services, but you still have to justify that cost (why 35 percent and not 25 percent?).

Here is the point: You are not being (a) a jerk, (b) stupid, (c) unprofessional or (d) flighty by asserting your expertise. If a client asks what you cost before you can establish that they are willing to pay for what the production will cost, there is no point in answering the question. By the way, it is never a question of affordability—it is a question of willingness. Clients all have the wherewithal to engage you (if not, why exactly are you talking?); the real question is whether they choose to spend it with you.

This is where power comes in. If you answer the question of what you cost before establishing they are willing to pay for what it costs, you have subtly, insidiously, yet demonstrably ceded your expertise to the client, who is not, in fact, the expert. Please stop doing that, as it serves no one, least of all your client. Production budget discussions come first; the cost of your design business comes second. Make it clear that what you charge as a percentage of the production budget pays to get it from your head to their house, and that it is a lot of work. Make a real estimate as to what the cost of production will be and then live with it.

DESIGN
Ideas are ephemeral; options today border on limitless. (Hello, AI!) If you believe in blue, there can be a wonderful argument to be made for red. Who cares? You believe in blue, have sold blue, value blue, and are willing to stake your reputation on blue. It ends there—your clients, colleagues and employees alike get to believe in blue or not. Again, here is where the power factor comes in.

“I will not pay for the blue couch; I want a red couch.” The implication of such a statement is that the impact on your design is up to your client, when it is not. You and only you get to decide the significance of the change, and it is almost always irrational. By that, I mean that two designers might come to the exact opposite conclusion: One feels that the red couch is no big deal, while the other finds that the red couch kills everything. You can see how this kind of thing becomes a slippery slope to design marginalization, if not oblivion. (See above about asserting your expertise.) Standing in the position of saying the red couch is thermonuclear (or not) to your design is precisely what you get paid for. If you give up the position, you erode your intrinsic value. Again, please stop doing that, as it not only serves no one, but undermines the fabric of the very industry you so dearly love. We can go into why your client should never know the price of the couch, but I have covered this topic extensively, and we are going to set it aside for today. The point is that, regardless of the price, the couch matters because you say it does. Period.

‘I MADE YOU’
Most designers have had patrons—those who helped you get to where you wanted to go as an artist and a business. Maybe you are doing another project with them, or they have referred you to another client. Sometimes these are amazing relationships where the purity of the work remains and you are fairly paid each time. Unicorns do exist.

What I am talking about is where the dynamic instead distorts into an expectation of “You owe me” because of the past. If you sucked as a designer, there would never be a next time. The reason there is a next time is because your work was brilliant for what your client needed. Arguably you should be more expensive than the last time because they do not have to pay you to “come up to speed.” You and your firm will start at 5, whereas everyone else will be at zero. You should have the best chance to not only get to 10, but to get there faster. So even if you charge what every other designer would charge, you are still an incredible value.

Oh, and will you be better next time? Sure. If you are not promising to improve on today’s performance tomorrow, you should quit. A big break is valuable, but once your talent is proven, you belong on the stage—you need not keep paying for the break. The proverbial genie is out of the bottle because you are that good.

Hopefully, now that you see how bias jeopardizes the power of your design and your firm, you will focus on your ability to say, “Here, I created this for you,” and to say it purely, with integrity and not a shred of doubt that it is yours and yours alone to say. Pay for it or do not—as with any other professional giving incredible advice.

I have said it thousands of times and will never stop: If your clients could see what you see, do what you do, they would. They cannot, so they choose to come to your world to receive its largesse. No sense in making your world look like theirs, especially today, when it never did and never will.

____________

Sean Low is the go-to business coach for interior designers. His clients have included Nate Berkus, Sawyer Berson, Vicente Wolf, Barry Dixon, Kevin Isbell and McGrath II. Low earned his law degree from the University of Pennsylvania, and as founder-president of The Business of Being Creative, he has long consulted for design businesses. In his Business Advice column for BOH, he answers designers’ most pressing questions. Have a dilemma? Send us an email—and don’t worry, we can keep your details anonymous.