I had lunch last week with two other creatives in my industry, a custom homebuilder and an architect. Both are seasoned, thoughtful, and as stubborn about their methodologies as I am about my interior design process. 

 

All three of us have been at this for years and ridden the waves of learning what goes into running a business. When it comes to our work, we realized we aren’t interested in the latest software, AI tools, or digital hacks to speed things up. What is truly important (and the driving force behind our individual success) is much less glamorous or shiny, but infinitely more powerful. It’s our processes. And in each of our businesses, especially mine, our process isn’t something that happens quickly or that we’re looking to speed up. 

 

Design takes time. And our little lunch group has taken the time to become subject matter experts, refine the tools of our trade, and develop rinse-and-repeat formulas that guide our processes and daily business operations. 

 

What makes a design project successful isn’t the tools, the vision, or even the talent behind it. It’s the process. Sure, the clients change, the homes change, and the styles change, but ultimately the process remains the same. And you only get better at this game by doing the same thing over and over and over until it’s not even a thought but an immediate action. Sounds dull, doesn’t it? 

 

But trust me, my interior design process is everything. And boring builds success. 

 

Our Process is More Important Than Any Tools or Expertise

“We don’t rise to the level of our expectations; we fall to the level of our training.” This quote has been attributed to an anonymous Navy SEAL, paraphrasing the Greek poet Archilochus. From a military perspective, managing chaos and stressful situations has nothing to do with ascending to greatness. Instead, it involves relying on the automatic response of countless training drills to navigate the problem at hand. It doesn’t matter what tool you have or your level of expertise. All that matters is following the tried-and-true process to get it done. 

 

It might sound a little dramatic to compare interior designers to soldiers. After all, people’s outside perception of interior design is a glamorous world of beauty and decor. But in reality, it’s chaos. We’re not dodging bullets, but design can be surprisingly disruptive. A home renovation upends daily routines, stretches budgets, and tests even the most harmonious households. Big, emotional decisions often have to be made on the fly, in less-than-ideal conditions. That’s why process matters. It’s the structure we fall back on when things inevitably go awry. It’s what keeps projects (and everyone’s sanity) intact.

 

And yes, creativity is important. However, without a regimented process and proper planning, there are no bounds to lock creativity in and actually make an impact. When a tile shipment arrives cracked or a dining table can’t fit through the door on installation day, you don’t need a creative solution that reinvents the wheel. You need the immediate muscle memory instinct you’ve used to solve this problem a hundred times before. 

 

Digital vs. Analog Interior Design Processes: Finding the Balance

When looking to refine or improve upon existing processes, folks are often quick to want to add something to the mix, like a new tool or technology. However, sometimes stripping things down to the basics of pen and paper is actually more efficient. 

 

Now, don’t get me wrong. We use digital tools every day at our Austin interior design firm. They’re efficient and help us scale. But they are not a substitute for process. And you certainly can’t rely on a digital tool to complete such a tactical project like design. You can use design software to lay out a room, but you have to be in the space to actually see how it feels. And while shopping online might feel like it speeds up the process at first, it can’t substitute actually feeling the weave of a rug in person. 

 

There’s a loss of sensory truth when we go too digital, too fast.

 

Why Interior Designers Still Use Analog Methods (And Always Will)

My team and I actually rely mostly on analog methods in our process. We still hand-sketch. We still lay out physical fabrics on worktables. We still sign off (with a pen and paper) on hand-stitched upholstery samples from our favorite local workrooms. 

 

Design is such a physical job, through every step of the process. The tradespeople we trust most to bring our visions to life are still doing things by hand. Take our plaster artist, for example. Watching her layer texture into a ceiling is like watching a painter in the middle of a decades-long love affair with her canvas. No digital shortcut could ever match the intention and intimacy of that work.

 

I’ve written before that our process is the opposite of “quick and easy.” I prefer a slow and complex approach because that’s what leads to excellence. And I think that other folks out there are beginning to appreciate a more thoughtful and intentional work, as everything else around us seems to be speeding up. 

 

For example, the slow decorating movement has been picking up steam. It’s based on the idea that a home takes years to curate and design. A direct pushback against the instant gratification of renovation reveals and quick design jobs that feel sterile and generic. One of our clients in Philadelphia has been collaborating with us over several years to renovate and decorate her 1811 rowhouse. It’s more than a project with a timeline. It’s a living, breathing work of art. It takes more time to curate things and ideas through the years, yes. But this process also yields a better result.

 

The Ritual and Romance of Analog

The analog world has a sense of ritual to it. A ritual that can’t be replicated by any digital substitute. There are things like the soft crackle of a vinyl record that makes your favorite song sound better, or the way a handwritten letter commands so much more attention than an email. It’s romantic in the way that it makes us take notice. 

 

We recently shot photos of our new workshop with Likeness Studio. Their photojournalist eye captured the true soul of the space. And yes, they shot on film. That’s part of their process, and there’s a reason it resonated with us.

 

The ritual of analog and all its slowness and deliberateness invites you to take notice of the process itself. Jotting a meeting down in your bound day planner has so much more intention than a digital calendar event popping up with an unexpected alert. Just like the grain of film makes you conscious of the medium itself. Analog processes force you to connect and appreciate the steps you take toward a result. 

 

In a world obsessed with optimization, that kind of presence feels radical.

 

In a Fast-Paced World, We Choose Craft

I run every design decision through a process that has been pressure-tested by time, chaos, and the inevitable renovation surprise. Is the process the fastest? No. Because our job isn’t to be fast. 

 

Our job is to get it right.