Custom Residential
Oh, Gosh, You Must Love It Here!
I'm often asked for my opinion on people's homes when they show them to me. Please stop. You're torturing architects. All we know, is that you love it and think it is wonderful. Can't that be enough? And besides, I know that you must love it there. Isn't that all that needs to be said?
July 20, 2011
If I can base America's dream jobs based only on my conversations with people it would clearly have to be an architect. "Oh, I've always wanted to be an architect, I was going to do that but decided to go into accounting instead." (Really? Because the two are so similar.) But clearly, these people didn't know what they're missing out on. Are you aware of the torture that architects are put under? It is truly a cruel and somewhat unusual punishment.
You see, I'm often asked for my opinion on people's homes when they show them to me. It goes something like this, "So here's the living room, the dining room, the kitchen, and oh, what do you think about this room, huh?" "This Room" is always something that clearly the owner is super happy about and proud of. Unfortunately, what it also means is that they also know that there is something not quite right about it either but are testing me to see if I'll point it out. If I don't, then they think it flies under the radar and is good to go.
But you know where this is going, right?
See, the thing about being an architect is that I KNOW there are often valid reasons why strange things exist in houses. Compromises often have to be made and a good architect can help you walk through the pros and cons and select the best design option. Hopefully, that challenge turns into an opportunity and no one is worse for the wear. But often times due to budget or physical constraints some things just end up a little strange. Maybe you have an old house and there's something funky that you just can't afford to really fix as you'd rather spend the money on something else. No problem but it means that it won't be a picture perfect magazine home. Which, if you ask me, is actually pretty great.
The problem though is that when I'm touring a house, I get none of the backstory of why little things may be off or strange. It isn't fair to be asked an opinion without all of the information. It's 'drive-by design' and that's a nasty proposition. So when I'm asked what I think about something that (often) clearly isn't so wonderful, I'm left with the following responses:
- Oh, gosh, you must love it here! (Which is true! Homes should make the inhabitants happiest.)
- Tell me your favorite thing about it! (My favorite; it starts a conversation and often exposes the backstory.)
- Golly, who'd you work with on this design? (Useful, as it clarifies if this is a "homeowner design special" that I should be extra careful around, or gives me a name of an architect to help reference the work.)
- Don't you just love having something come out the way you want it? (This will then typically trigger the homeowner to tell me actually what they DON'T love about it.)
You try it. And, check out the site I found it on (enjoy the three toilet bathroom).
Um...glass block wall, huh? Wow, who'd you work with on that design?
I was taught early on that lying never works. Professionally or personally, it is never a good idea. If I make a mistake I own up to it and I've realized that my opinion is a big part of my service. It is what people pay money for after all! So know that if you truly want my opinion on what makes your space work well or what could be improved for a future remodel then realize that you get what you pay for! Asking an architect what he thinks about your house is cruel and torturous to pretty much everyone in my profession that I've spoken to. Compliments are always better when they're unsolicited.
I'll ask all the right questions to help guide you down a path of discovering what you love or hate about your own house but I'm certainly not going to insult something that you love so dearly.
The Victorian reading nook inspired by the ugly-as-sin but memorable one in Grandma's house (whose ashes are in the unfortunate looking urn, thank you very much) that you have strangely, faithfully, re-created in your 1950's ranch? Yup.
Gosh, you must love it here!
PS: Glass Block, I'm coming back for you in another post. But if you can't wait, see here for a first volley by one of my favorite blogs.
