A client nods at a floor plan for twenty minutes and then, at the end, asks where the front door is. That is not their failure. We handed them a technical drawing and expected them to see a home in it.
So we stopped presenting plans on their own. Now every layout is shown with a walk — a written sequence of what you see as you move through, in order, from the entrance. Where you put your keys. Where the light comes from at breakfast. Which door you will actually use.
Nobody lives in a plan. They live in the order things appear.
Furniture on the drawing, always
An empty plan flatters the designer and misleads the client. Every plan that leaves this studio is drawn with real furniture at real dimensions, including the pieces the client already owns and refuses to part with. A room that only works while empty is not a room we have finished.
The result is fewer changes late on. Clients who understand a drawing raise their objections at the drawing stage, which is the cheapest possible moment for us both.