It’s tough at the top, and never more so than when you are the interior designer for the world’s super rich: that 0.0001 per cent who think nothing of paying £75 million for an apartment in central London, and an equally stratospheric amount on the décor.
The challenge of making a “des res” even more desirable falls to specialists such as Alex Holden of Oliver Burns, an architectural interior design company to the global elite.
“It can be difficult to get it right,” he says. “The client might not realise they don’t like something until they see it.”
To ensure they create the perfect interior, these designers ask their clients to fill in a detailed questionnaire to learn as much information as possible about them, their family and why they bought the house.
These documents, which are often up to 12 pages long, can cover everything from allergies to pets to favourite colours. “Do they watch TV together or separately? Do they want ‘his and hers’ dressing rooms?,” asks Holden. It’s enough to make a divorce lawyer salivate.
To create exactly the right size wardrobe and dressing rooms, an interiors team needs accurate figures. Not so much height, width and depth, but how many designer shoes are there? How many long and short dresses? And how many Hermès bags – which can range from £8,000 to £200,000 – are there? “It really does go into every single piece of detail to make sure that space is absolutely right,” says Holden.
Clients are also shown images, mood boards and given computer-generated “walk-throughs”. In some cases it can take up to 10 meetings just to nail the design concept, says Charu Gandhi, of Elicyon, an interior design company.
If this doesn’t work, Gandhi resorts to a tried and trusted favourite and simply asks what their favourite hotel is. If in doubt, the answer is invariably ubiquitous greige.
It’s the sort of approach which works well in One Hyde Park, Knightsbridge. Gandhi has done the interiors of 20 apartments in the infamous building, largely when she worked for Candy and Candy, many billionaires’ developer of choice.
Though these homes are barely used, iconic as a totem of the “lights out London” trend, Gandhi often finds herself on weekly flights to far-flung parts of the globe for vital design meetings to discuss the finish of a client’s leathered granite kitchen worktops (stone scratched with diamond tips to give a leather-like texture) or a dining table made from 150-year-old Canadian barn-wood (covered in 80 layers of resin, then polished).
Her work often involves purchasing the Lalique crystal for an owner’s collection, as well as selecting seamless faux shagreen for frames to go around televisions (real stingray skin is terribly expensive, even for billionaires).
Clients will send emails from their private jet, or ring their interior designers late at night or over the weekend. “The prevalence of mobile phones means you are always available,” says Holden. “I think that is becoming part and parcel of the luxury industry, particularly working with clients in multiple different time zones both in the Far East and America.”
Sourcing a client’s wishlist can be challenging. Demands vary from matching the veining in the walls of bathroom marble, to finding the perfect cowhide panels for a hallway.
To create a headboard of straw marquetry (a type of straw veneer which originated in Asia then came to France the 17th century), Gandhi had to interview 10 different suppliers, before they found the perfect artisan in Wales.
All of which begs the question: what if the client doesn’t like it? Thanks to all their consultation, this has not yet happened, says Gandhi.
“We pride ourselves on helping our clients deduce what they are looking for,” she says. Nevertheless, there is no pleasing some people, and clients have an awkward habit of changing their minds.
“We counter that by having a very robust sign-off on drawings and finishes,” says Holden, who spends a lot of time “managing the client when they want to change it”.
These are not the type of people who are used to hearing the word “no”. Has anyone had hissy fits? “It can get stressful,” says Holden, circumspectly.