Commissioning a residential interior designer is the smallest big decision in a renovation. The decisions that follow it (every joinery line, every paint code, every chair) get made inside a relationship that started with a 200-word email or a tap on a website form. If the email and the form are right, the project usually is too.
This is a working note from a designer's side of that conversation. What to send in the first email, what a designer is actually looking for, what a fair fee looks like, what a contract should and shouldn't say, and the small set of red flags worth paying attention to. The briefs that work share more than the ones that don't.
What to send in the first email
The brief that gets a confident reply has six things in it. None of them are exhaustive. Each is specific.
- What the home is. Suburb, postcode, type (Queenslander, terrace, coastal-modern, apartment, brick veneer). One line. "1970s timber-and-tile in Pottsville" is enough.
- What you're trying to do. Renovation, single-room refresh, full redesign, styling for sale, colour overhaul. Plain English. "We want the kitchen and living to work as one room and we'd like to replace the bathroom" is better than "we'd like a holistic transformation".
- The budget reality. A range, not a number. "$80,000 to $130,000 for the build, plus furniture" tells a designer how to scope. "Some idea after we talk" doesn't.
- The timeline. "We'd like to start in October and be in by Christmas" or "no rush, sometime in the next 12 months". This is honest, not a deadline.
- What you've already decided. "We're keeping the front three rooms, replacing the back, and we don't want to move the kitchen". Designers will respect this. It stops the proposal arriving with the kitchen moved.
- Why this designer. One sentence is enough. "I saw Havana House in The Design Files and the colour conversation matches what we want for this place." Designers don't need flattery. They do need to know whether they're being shopped against ten other studios or actually being chosen.
A first email between 150 and 350 words gets the right reply. Fewer than 100 words and the designer can't tell the difference between you and a tyre-kicker. More than 600 and the project is being designed in the email instead of in the room.
How a designer reads a brief
I read for three things, in this order.
Is the project real? Real projects have a postcode, a budget range, and a rough timeline. Speculative projects have wishful word counts and no specifics.
Is the scope sane? The relationship between budget, scope, and timeline either makes sense or it doesn't. $40,000 to gut a Queenslander kitchen with the existing trades is sane. $40,000 to redesign a whole house in eight weeks is not, and any designer who says yes to it is either not going to do the work or not going to do it well.
Is it a fit? Taste, geography, and working style. A studio that does quiet neutral well shouldn't take the colour-led brief and squint through it. A studio that works locally shouldn't quote on a project five hours' drive away unless e-design is on the menu. The first email tells a designer whether to say yes, no, or "let's talk".
The reply you get back should answer all three. If it's a generic "we'd love to hear more, please book a consultation" without any acknowledgement of what you sent, that designer didn't read the brief.
Fees: the four common structures in Australia
There is no single fee model in the Australian residential design market, which is why pricing pages disagree with each other and why most homeowners arrive confused. Four structures cover roughly 95% of the market.
Hourly billing runs $150 to $400 per hour, with a mid-market average around $200 to $250 across the country. Sydney rates run higher, often $275 and up. Melbourne sits closer to $210. Brisbane and the regions run lower. It's the most flexible structure and the worst for budget certainty: the project costs whatever the hours add up to. Ask for an estimated hour range up front, in writing.
Fixed-fee billing is a scoped quote for a defined deliverable. "$18,000 for full design of the kitchen, living, and dining, including documentation and trade coordination, excluding furniture procurement." It's the most common structure for residential projects in 2026 because it gives both sides certainty. Studio LaLa runs almost all projects this way. Fixed fee requires a clear scope, which is why the first call is a working tool, not a pleasantry.
Percentage-of-project-budget pricing runs 10% to 20% of the construction-and-furniture spend. More common at the luxury end. At its best it aligns the designer's interests with the project; at its worst it inflates spec to inflate fee. Less common in residential under $200,000.
Per-room and per-package pricing covers e-design, colour consultation, styling. Studio LaLa's e-design starts at $1,800 per room. The colour consultation is $850 for a half-day. The pricing is published because the scope is fixed.
What you should never see: an hourly rate with no estimate, a percentage with no cap, or a fixed fee with no scope.
Deposits and contracts
A deposit on signing is standard. 30% to 50% of the design fee is typical for residential interior design in Australia. Some studios take a smaller engagement deposit (a flat $1,500 to $2,500) and stage the rest against milestones.
A contract should specify, at a minimum:
- The scope of work, with deliverables listed
- The fee, the structure, and the payment schedule
- The timeline, including realistic durations for concept, documentation, and install
- What happens if either side wants to end the project (and the cancellation cost on each side)
- Who owns the design once delivered (you should)
- Procurement terms if the designer is buying furniture on your behalf (margins, deposit timing, freight responsibility)
Australian Consumer Law applies. A contract clause saying "no refunds under any circumstance" doesn't override the law. Mandatory consumer guarantees still apply: services must be provided with due care and skill, fit for purpose, and within a reasonable time. If a designer asks you to sign something that contradicts those guarantees, that's a flag.
Don't sign anything you wouldn't be comfortable having read aloud in a room of friends. If the language is opaque, the brief was opaque. If the deposit is more than 50% before any work has started, ask why.
The first call
A 15-minute first call is the cheapest, fastest project diagnostic in this industry. I run mine for free. It almost always answers four questions:
- Is this a project the designer can actually do well, given scope, geography, and the calendar?
- Is the budget reality matched to the brief, or is one of them going to need to flex?
- Do the people involved like talking to each other? Twelve weeks of design work depends on the answer.
- What are the next two specific steps if we go forward, including dollars and dates?
If the call ends without those four answers, push for them. A vague "let's connect again next week" is the polite way of saying nothing was decided.
Red flags
These don't mean the designer is bad. They mean the conversation hasn't gone deep enough yet.
No published price floor anywhere is the first one. Either a starting figure on the services page or a bracket given on the first call. Studios that won't say what their work costs are usually billing more than the market because they can.
No portfolio of completed work is the second. A few moodboards on Instagram is not a portfolio. Look for at least two photographed, completed homes. Stock-photo testimonials sit in the same family: testimonials with a first name, a suburb, and a year are credible; generic ones aren't.
A proposal that looks identical for every brief is a third. Templated proposals get sent when the studio has too many leads and not enough time. The work tends to follow the proposal. Refusal to put scope in writing belongs in the same bucket; verbal scope means scope creep, which means cost creep.
The last one: an aggressive deposit ask before a real conversation. A studio that asks for 50% deposit before a 15-minute call has the calendar of a studio you don't want.
None of these are deal-breakers in isolation. Two or three together usually are.
What I ask on every first call
For context, here are the ten questions I ask every prospective client on the first call. Some are about the home, some about the people who live in it, some about budget reality, and one about the design itself.
- What's the home, and how long have you been in it?
- What's working in it, and what isn't?
- What's the part you're most worried about getting wrong?
- Who lives in the home, and what does a normal Saturday morning look like?
- What's the deal-breaker (a wall you don't want moved, a piece of furniture you're keeping, a colour you can't live with)?
- What does success look like at the end of the project?
- What's the budget bracket?
- What's the timeline reality (start date, in-by date, any non-negotiables)?
- Who else is involved (architect, builder, partner, family)?
- Why have you reached out now, specifically?
If a designer asks something like these on the first call, you're in safe hands. If they don't ask anything in particular, the project is already off the rails.
To put it plainly
Send a 200-word email with a postcode, a budget range, a timeline, and one specific reason you've chosen this designer. Get a reply that engages with what you sent. Take a 15-minute first call. Get a written scope, a fixed fee where possible, a published deposit structure, and a contract you'd be comfortable having read aloud at a kitchen table.
The rest of the project, every joinery line and every paint code, gets easier from there.
If commissioning Studio LaLa is on the table for you, send me a brief. If you'd rather talk first, start with a 15-minute call.