The Interior Design Cocktail Party

Two Thursdays ago, the Art Institute was honored to host a cocktail party in its atrium. In attendance were current students, students who had graduated, professionals, and senators. The air was celebratory - the profession of interior design was staying regulated. Over 200 people came to show their support, which was overwhelming. While I was, unfortunately, stuck in the corner selling raffle tickets most of the evening (and wearing a dress that I felt incredibly awkward in) it was still a lot of fun. Students got to meet a lot of people in the field, creating connections that could bring them job opportunities after school. Hopefully it also served to further the understanding of our profession for those who were not as involved, creating new supporters. I’m looking forward to another party next year when we once again remind people why interior design needs to stay regulated.

Why I Do What I Do

Interior design has not always been an important aspect in my life; it wasn’t even an afterthought. Growing up, I was never allowed to paint my room; every house we lived in had white walls. And that’s it. My dad, thinking in his practical lawyerly ways, thought they were the end-all of “interior design”. After he moved out, my mom (an artist) finally told me I could paint my room any color I wanted. The color I chose was called Renaissance Plum, an absurdly dark purple. Soon after I decided to rip out the dark green carpet (ew) in my room and painted the tiles that were underneath it. Not the best thing to do, but hey, I didn’t know any better.

My first place, the apartment my husband and I moved into after we got married, literally looked like a Home Depot paint sample rack threw up in it. Every room was a different color – the living room was red, the kitchen was orange, the bathroom was lavender, and the bedroom was brown. Nothing matched but I loved it anyway. A year later my dad offered for Chris and I to move into one of his rental properties. When we pulled up in front of it, to say it was a slight disappointment is an understatement. The person who had owned it before my dad apparently fancied themselves a do-it-yourself handyman. The 1950’s house had a back porch made of bare 2x4’s and poorly attached screen, and sloped to one side because of an oak tree; the closet in the master bedroom was missing a wall (for no apparent reason); the backsplash in the kitchen was unfinished drywall; the living room was floor-to-ceiling, all four walls cheap paneling; and half of the outlets in the living room didn’t work . . . just because. In addition to all of these things, my dad’s ex-girlfriend had lived in the house prior to me and decided to, for whatever reason, take the cabinet doors, as well as the part of cabinetry with the only drawers, from the kitchen, some of the light fixtures, and the shower head.

Regardless of these things, we moved in and I’ve slowly been trying to fix the things that are wrong with the house. I soon realized, however, that my knowledge was somewhat lacking when it came to the fixer-upper department. I also realized one day that if I didn’t do something soon, I would be stuck in a life of retail and a crappy house. So I decided to go back to school. After a year of waffling back and forth between what I would study, where I would go, and if I was capable of it (HCC didn’t work out so well for me) I decided on the Art Institute and Interior Design. And I couldn’t be happier. It turns out that I really like doing this stuff.

As the two previous years have gone by I’ve learned so much about what this profession really is and what it means to everyone. This career will allow me to help people feel comfortable and make the most of their time in a space, whether it’s through design of their workplace, home, or the places they go shopping.