To-The-Trade with Interior Design Community

Brooklyn-based interiors, architecture, and hospitality photographer Regan Wood joins Laurie Laizure and Nile Johnson to talk about the part of the design business that most designers pay for and least understand.
Regan came to photography as a second career, moving from womenswear design
to dog photography to interiors, which she has shot since 2013. She sees
photography as an opaque trade in the same way design is: people work alone
and learn by trial and error. The most common friction point is cost.
Because everyone has a camera in their pocket, professional rates surprise
people, and her advice is to bake photography into the project cost from
the beginning rather than scrambling for the money at the end. When Nile
asks about contacting a photographer at project kickoff to get a number for
the proposal, she says yes, with a buffer for rate increases over a long
build.
On permissions, Regan urges designers to put photography in the agreement
and to raise it with homeowners early, so a no does not arrive eighteen
months in. Nile describes handling it as a matter-of-fact step repeated
across the investment guide, welcome guide, and a separate permissions
sheet. On rights, Regan explains that a photographer can legally license an
image commercially, but a property release from the homeowner is required,
and retouching a designer's specified products out of a shot is bad form.
For designers chasing press, she offers a reality check. Magazines are
flooded with submissions, and who took the photos may get an email opened
faster but will not change the answer. Editors decide on the project, the
homeowner, the designer, the art, and the styling, and the most common
rejection notes are that a space does not feel lived in or needs better
art. She points designers toward regional and niche titles where serious
local homeowners are already looking.
The practical half covers DIY shots for designers who cannot hire yet
(natural light only, lights off, tight details and vignettes, skip the wide
shots), pre-production, shot list discipline at fifteen to twenty shots a
day, shooting opposite the light with a compass and an assistant, mixing in
verticals for social and editorial, and bringing five times more florals
than expected. She also shares her shared-shoot rules after one painful day
with an architect and designer both on set, and makes the case that
storytelling, not documentation, is what actually wins designers more work.

Marcy Sagel, CEO of MSA Interiors and Designer Bank in Baltimore, has spent 25-plus years building a commercial design practice focused on multifamily, affordable housing, senior living, and student housing, alongside a smaller, personal residential practice. Her conversation with Laurie Laizure centers on one idea: know your numbers before anyone else in the room does.
Sagel built Designer Bank, a course platform launching with 13 courses (35 within its first year and a half), after noticing that most design school graduates arrive without Revit training her large architectural partners already require. The courses run from Revit fundamentals through Enscape rendering, because visualization, she says, is what actually gets clients emotionally attached enough to say yes.
That same instinct for closing a gap shows up in her approach to commercial interiors. Rather than default to sterile, repetitive commercial finishes, she carves out lounges, cafes, and gaming areas that feel residential, an approach Laurie dubs "resommercial." The goal is not more spending. It is making sure people feel proud of the building regardless of price point.
On budgeting, Sagel pushes back hard on the idea that asking a client's budget upfront is manipulative. A budget range, she argues, is simply where two sides start communicating what they actually want, and it is not optional on large commercial jobs, where clients are funded years in advance with no room to ask for more later.
She is equally direct about specifying versus purchasing: her firm specifies more than ten million dollars a year in materials her clients never realize she is choosing, from decorative lighting to paint to flooring underlayment. Her signature story: scratching a client's wood floor sample with his own key to prove it was the wrong choice for a high-traffic event space, then sourcing a commercially rated floor for less money than he was already planning to spend.
On running the business, Sagel credits delegating to a VP of Operations she trained by bringing her to every client meeting, and credits her entrepreneurs' organization membership for the accountability a CEO does not otherwise get.
The episode closes on two points IDC's audience will recognize. Asked if new designers should market themselves before they have projects, Sagel's answer is yes: market who you are as a person. And Laurie names something rampant in the industry, imposter syndrome, pointing out that no contractor waits to get published in a magazine before calling himself a contractor.

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.