Why Do Interior Designers Use Fancy Words?
Let’s face it, every profession has its jargon, but there’s something about the way we interior designers talk that even I find baffling sometimes. It’s as if we’re auditioning for a part in a period drama rather than explaining how to make a room look nice. And don’t get me started on the word “moment.”
Oh yes, the moment. Not the kind you have when you finally find your keys, but the kind designers keep insisting is in every room. “We need a moment here,” they say. But what do they really mean?
It’s usually something simple, like a striking chair, a fabulous piece of art, or a stylish coffee table. But calling it a “focal point” or even a “statement piece” apparently isn’t chic enough these days.
Wine Words and Design Speak
It’s like the wine industry, isn’t it? You don’t just drink wine anymore; you sip notes of elderflower, inhale hints of leather, and marvel at its unctuous mouthfeel. (What does that even mean?)
And while you’re trying to figure out whether your Pinot tastes like leather or just like wine, you’re reminded how inaccessible this language makes things for the average person who just wants to enjoy a drink.
Interior design can be a bit like that. Clients come to us for help because they don’t speak our language, and then we start throwing terms like negative space, curated vignettes, and biophilic design at them. (Biophilic, by the way, just means bringing nature into your space. See? It didn’t need the Latin flourish.)
Some Offenders in Interior Design Jargon
Here are a few terms that make me roll my eyes - and how we could describe them in plain English:
“We’ll create a vignette.”
What it means: A styled arrangement of objects on a surface, like a side table or shelf.
What we could say: “Let’s make this corner look lovely with some books, a vase, and a candle.”
“This room needs a sense of juxtaposition.”
What it means: Contrast between two things, like sleek modern furniture against rustic wood.
What we could say: “We’ll mix it up with a blend of modern and rustic styles.”
“Let’s incorporate some negative space.”
What it means: Areas left open and uncluttered to balance the room.
What we could say: “We won’t fill every inch of the room so it doesn’t feel crowded.”
“It’s all about layering textures.”
What it means: Adding variety with materials like velvet, linen, wood, or metal.
What we could say: “We’ll mix different materials to make the space feel cosy and interesting.”
“We want this room to evoke warmth and intimacy.”
What it means: A cosy and inviting space.
What we could say: “It’ll feel like the kind of place where you want to curl up with a blanket and a cuppa.”
The Real Job of a Designer
Here’s the thing: Our job as designers isn’t to bamboozle people with fancy words; it’s to translate a client’s needs into a space they love. If we’re busy talking about narratives and visual tensions, we’re missing the point.
The client doesn’t want to learn the lingo - they just want a living room that feels like home, or a kitchen where they’ll actually enjoy cooking.
When I teach my students, I tell them to focus on communication. Clients need to see the picture you’re painting with your words. If they can’t picture it, they can’t trust you to deliver it. It’s that simple.
If we’re busy talking about narratives and visual tensions, we’re missing the point.
The Balance Between Design Theory and Communication
Of course, when I’m writing a blog about the theoretical aspects of design, I naturally lean into the official terminology - it’s part of the language of our craft.
However, even then, I make it a priority to break those terms down into bite-sized chunks and use language that’s easy to digest. These blogs are aimed at design students and people eager to learn more about the “why” behind the “what” of interior design.
But as a tutor, it’s also my responsibility to emphasise the importance of communication. It’s not enough for designers to know the theory; they need to be able to convey their ideas to clients in a way that’s clear and relatable.
If a client doesn’t understand what you’re proposing, it doesn’t matter how brilliant the concept is. Teaching students how to translate complex design ideas into accessible language is just as critical as teaching them colour theory or spatial planning. After all, design is about connection, and that starts with how we communicate.
Going Back to that Word “Moment”
I can’t write this blog without addressing my current nemesis: the word “moment.” The designer on that renovation show I can’t watch anymore talks about moments in every room, to the point that I started counting them out loud. “This corner needs a moment.” “We’ve created a moment here.” “Do you feel the moment there?” By the end, I was shouting, “IT’S A PLANT!”
Because let’s be honest, calling a nice lamp or a piece of wall art a “moment” doesn’t make it any more special. It’s just a statement item, a focal point, or - if we really want to break it down - something interesting to look at. That’s it.
Keeping It Simple
I’m not saying designers shouldn’t have a little flair when describing their work. We’re creative types, and we love words almost as much as we love paint swatches.
But at the end of the day, our clients don’t need to hear about visual balance or layered narratives. They need to know if their room will look like the cosy, inviting space they’ve been dreaming of - or if that piece of art really works above the sofa.
At the end of the day, our clients don’t need to hear about visual balance or layered narratives.
So let’s save the fancy lingo for the designer meet-ups and just talk to our clients like real people. Because honestly, a “warm and cosy living room” will always sound better than a “layered textural palette evoking intimacy.”
And for the record, my own living room doesn’t have any “moments” (albeit full of my own statements) - just a comfy sofa, a throw blanket, and a glass of "nice" wine. And that’s all the magic it needs.
