There's something about the design industry that continues to amaze me.
And no, it's not the extraordinary ability of some designers to turn a perfectly good rectangle into a $200,000 structural engineering exercise.
It's the apparent disconnect between what things cost to design and what things cost to actually build.
I've lost count of the number of projects I've come across where clients have spent months working with a designer, fallen in love with their dream home, and then received a construction quote that practically requires a second mortgage, a lottery win and a wealthy relative with questionable health.
And the designer's response?
"Oh, that's more than we expected."
Really? Because I'm fairly certain the builder didn't just invent the price of concrete yesterday.
Over the years, I've been involved in projects originally designed by others where the clients' budgets and the proposed designs weren't just slightly misaligned.
They weren't even in the same postcode.
Beautiful homes? Absolutely.
Financially achievable? Not unless the clients were hiding a substantial inheritance from me.
And here's what really frustrates me.
By the time these clients realise there's a problem, they've often spent thousands of dollars on design fees, invested months of their lives, and become emotionally attached to a home they were never realistically going to afford.
All because someone forgot one fairly important part of the brief.
The budget.
Now, I'm not suggesting designers should be quantity surveyors. And yes, construction costs fluctuate, site conditions can be unpredictable, and sometimes the unexpected really does happen.
But surely understanding the financial implications of your own design decisions should be a fairly fundamental part of the job?
You know, somewhere between choosing the perfect shade of off-white and explaining why the kitchen island needs to be four metres long.
In my experience, the problem usually comes down to one of two things.
Some designers genuinely don't understand what things cost. Others understand perfectly well, but seem to believe budgets are merely suggestions.
Neither approach is particularly helpful when it's someone else's money.
I've always believed that good architecture requires more than an eye for aesthetics.
It requires an understanding of how buildings go together, what materials cost, where money is best spent, and where a little restraint can achieve a far better result.
Because anyone can design an extraordinary home with an unlimited budget.
There's no great genius in spending someone else's money.
The real skill is creating something extraordinary within the financial reality of the person paying for it.
At Solving Design, I believe construction costs and financial feasibility belong in the conversation from day one.
Not six months later, when everyone is sitting around a table trying to work out which half of the house they can afford to keep.
Good design should challenge expectations.
It shouldn't require clients to sell a kidney to build it.
Because ultimately, the real achievement isn't designing a million-dollar home for someone with a $600,000 budget.
It's designing a $600,000 home that feels like a million dollars.
And frankly, I think that's a much more impressive talent.
