Why I Don't Like Giving Interior Design Discounts

Ever since I started working as an architect, I've been hearing the same question.

You meet a client, discuss their future home, explain what the project involves, present your fee, and almost immediately hear: “So, what kind of discount can you give me?” Or even better: “What if I recommend you to my uncle? Would you give me a discount then?”

A good friend of mine from the UAE once explained that bargaining is simply part of the culture there. People expect to negotiate, and getting a special price makes them feel that they've received something personally tailored to them. It's part of how business relationships work.

I understand that. But I personally don't like discounting my work. Not because I'm greedy or unwilling to compromise. I simply find it strange to start a relationship by trying to reduce the value of someone's time, knowledge, and experience. Especially when that person is about to design the place where you'll spend the next ten, twenty, or perhaps thirty years of your life.

Think about it. You're hiring someone to decide how your home will feel, how the spaces connect, where the sunlight enters, how you move through the rooms, and how comfortable you'll be living there.

Sometimes I think you'd be better off paying that person a little extra. Give them a reason to feel appreciated, to push themselves creatively, to go beyond what was expected.

Instead, some relationships begin with an attempt to negotiate the lowest possible price.

And when the main argument is “We don't really have much money right now,” I find that particularly strange.

Custom architecture and interior design are, to some extent, premium services. You're choosing them because you want something beyond a standard solution. And there's absolutely nothing wrong with that.

Some people want expensive cars. Others buy watches, jewellery, or designer bags. Some of us would rather invest in a beautiful home. But here's something I've never understood.

People walk into luxury boutiques and spend enormous amounts of money on fashionable handbags. Sometimes they even have to convince a sales assistant to bring out a particular model, and not necessarily in the colour they wanted.

Yet somehow, asking for a discount doesn't seem to cross their minds. And the funny thing is that one of those bags can cost more than an entire interior design project.

Now think about what goes into that project.

Months of design work. Space planning. Visualisations. Material selections. Technical drawings. Construction documentation. Coordination with contractors. And all the wonderful headaches that come with turning an idea into a real building. Meanwhile, a bag is still just a bag.

I'd understand the excitement if Michael Jackson had carried it to his last party. At least there would be a story behind it. But no. It's just a piece of fabric that everyone has somehow decided to lose their minds over.

Of course, the handbag is only an example of how strangely we sometimes measure value. I've never really understood it, and I hope I never will.

WHEN DISCOUNTS ACTUALLY MAKE SENSE

I'm not against discounts in general.

If you're buying factory-produced bathroom fixtures, furniture, or lighting from Italy, that's a different situation. These are manufactured products with production costs, distribution margins, and retail markups. Negotiating a better price on those items makes perfect sense.

The same can sometimes apply to exceptionally large architectural projects.

We've worked on houses measuring three, four, or even five thousand square metres. In homes like these, a significant amount of space may intentionally remain empty. Not because we forgot to put furniture there, but because emptiness itself can be part of the architecture. Space to breathe, to think, to enjoy a little peace.

On projects of that scale, discussing the price per square metre can be reasonable. But there's another side to it.

A 5,000 m² house isn't simply ten 500 m² houses combined. The engineering, planning, coordination, and technical challenges become significantly more complex.

And then come the requests: “Could you come and take a look?” “We've changed something during construction.” “The contractor decided to do it differently.”

So a larger area doesn't automatically mean less work per square metre.

YOU'RE NOT BUYING PICTURES. YOU'RE BUYING SOMEONE'S THINKING.

This is probably the main reason I wanted to write this article.

When you hire an architect, interior designer, photographer, artist, videographer, or even someone to build your website or application, you're not simply buying a finished product.

You're paying for their time, imagination, experience, knowledge, and all the mistakes they've already made so that you don't have to make them yourself.

Creative work is deeply connected to a person's emotional state. And I believe that beginning a collaboration with respect and trust is much more productive than fighting over an additional $200 discount.

If saving that amount is absolutely essential, perhaps a standardised design company or a DIY project using ChatGPT would be a more suitable option. There's nothing wrong with either approach. Just don't expect a mass-produced solution to offer the same individuality that made you look for a particular designer in the first place.

“JUST DESIGN IT EXACTLY HOW I WANT”

There's another side to this discussion.

Some clients approach an interior designer and say, “I want you to make everything exactly as I imagine it.” And my first thought is: then why hire a designer?

To me, one of the most valuable reasons to work with an architect is the opportunity to see your own space through someone else's eyes.

Someone with a different perspective, professional experience, and an understanding of architecture that you may not have.

Of course, your preferences matter. It's your home, and you're the one who will live there.

But when those preferences become endless, contradict one another, or conflict with the architecture and the original concept, the entire process becomes a struggle.

Instead of creating something together, everyone ends up arguing over individual details.

If you've chosen an architect because you admire their work, their style, and their approach, try giving them room to do what you hired them to do. You might end up with something you never imagined.

ONE LAST THOUGHT

I'm not suggesting that architects are always right or that clients should agree with everything. That would be ridiculous. But I do believe that respecting someone's work, knowledge, and time is essential to creating a good project.

Ultimately, you're not paying for drawings and beautiful renderings.

You're creating a place you'll return to every day. Somewhere you can rest, spend time with people you love, sit on the sofa, and watch sunlight slowly move across the walls.

A place where you feel completely at home.

And if that home helps you relax, recover, and feel happier, perhaps it will also help you become more productive in your own work and earn even more money.

After all, I'm sure there are people in your profession who constantly try to tell you how to do your job. Not particularly enjoyable, is it?

Respect other people's time, knowledge, and work. Good luck!