After more than a decade working as an interior designer based in the Midwest, I’ve collaborated closely with several interior designers in Chicago, IL—sometimes as a peer on shared projects, other times stepping in midstream when a renovation needed rescuing. Chicago is a different animal compared to other cities I’ve worked in. The housing stock is older, the winters are unforgiving, and clients tend to be deeply opinionated in a good way. You can’t fake experience here, and shortcuts show up fast.
One of the first Chicago projects that stuck with me was a three-flat near Logan Square. The owners wanted to modernize without stripping away the character. Sounds reasonable until you realize the walls weren’t square, the original trim varied by room, and the building had settled just enough to throw cabinet installs off by half an inch. Designers who haven’t dealt with that kind of structure before tend to over-design on paper and under-anticipate reality. The interior designers who do well in Chicago are the ones who think about field conditions before they ever open a sample book.
I’m NCIDQ-certified and trained in commercial and residential interiors, but credentials only get you so far here. What matters is knowing, for example, how radiant heat behaves under wide-plank flooring during a February cold snap, or which millworkers can actually meet a deadline during peak construction season. I’ve watched clients burn several thousand dollars because a designer specified materials that looked great in a showroom but couldn’t handle the city’s humidity swings. That’s not a theory—it’s something I’ve had to help undo more than once.
Another common mistake I see is designers ignoring how Chicago clients actually live. A young family in Lincoln Park doesn’t need a pristine, magazine-ready living room that can’t survive winter boots and wet dogs. I worked with one homeowner who insisted on pale, porous stone throughout the entry. By the first thaw, it was permanently stained. A more experienced designer would have pushed back harder and suggested finishes that age gracefully in this climate. Good interior design here isn’t about saying yes—it’s about knowing when to say no.
What I respect most about seasoned interior designers in this city is their ability to balance aesthetics with pragmatism. They understand local permitting quirks, condo board restrictions, and the realities of working in tight urban spaces where deliveries and staging are logistical puzzles. I’ve personally seen projects succeed or fail based on whether a designer planned for those details upfront.
If you’re trying to decide who to trust with your space, pay attention to how a designer talks about past projects. Do they reference real constraints—old electrical, uneven subfloors, client indecision—or do they speak only in mood boards and trends? In Chicago, experience isn’t abstract. It shows up in how smoothly a project runs, how few surprises hit your budget, and whether the finished space still works six months after move-in.
Interior design here is hands-on, sometimes messy, and rarely perfect on the first pass. The designers who thrive are the ones who’ve earned their judgment the hard way, project by project, winter after winter.