Nobody Remembers the Designer Who Does Everything

If the word "niche" makes your stomach tighten, because you love too many things, or because picking one feels like closing the door on all the others, I completely get it. I resisted it for years myself. But here's the hard truth: being a little bit of everything to everyone is exactly why no one remembers you. The beautiful part is that finding your one thing has nothing to do with a branding worksheet. For me, it came down to something much simpler and far more honest, just paying attention to how places actually made me feel.

Short answer: Go experience places until you know, in your body, what makes you feel good and what makes you feel nothing. Then design that on purpose. Niching down isn't limiting, it's what lets people seek you out and pay you more. Be narrow in how you talk and market, stay a little open in the work you'll take, and don't worry about your location, because good work travels.

Start with what you already love

Here's something most people get wrong: your niche often hides in what you can't stand, not just in what you love. Let me show you what I mean. Growing up in Tallahassee, before we moved to Seaside, a lot of the kids I knew lived in these big McMansions, and honestly, those houses always made me feel awful. No sense of place, no soul, too many rooms, everyone too far apart from each other. I couldn't have explained it as a kid, but I felt it every single time. That feeling is the entire reason I don't design giant homes today. I don't like how they make people feel, and I refuse to spend my life designing things I don't love.

That's the actual secret to finding your niche, and it's why I'd tell you to put the worksheet down and just start paying attention. And I don't mean you have to jet off somewhere expensive. I mean the homes you already can't stop thinking about, the Pinterest boards you keep coming back to, the house on your street you slow down to stare at every single time you drive past it. If you get the chance to travel or tour homes with a realtor friend, wonderful, but honestly most of what you need is already right in front of you. Just start noticing what lights you up and what leaves you cold. For me, it's lush landscapes, cozy spaces, rich texture, little surprise moments that make you feel something. When you know the work that makes you feel alive, you know exactly what to get great at.

Think like a doctor choosing a specialty

Here's where I'm going to be a little polarizing with you, because I believe this all the way down. Trying to be the designer who does everything for everyone is exactly why no one remembers you. Niching isn't optional if you actually want to build something. It's necessary.

Think about how doctors work. They pick a specialty because they're going to spend their whole lives getting extraordinarily good at one thing, and there are a handful of specialists in the world that people fly across the planet and sit on waitlists to see. You want to be that for a certain kind of home, because when you are, you can charge two or three times what a generalist charges, and people will happily pay it and wait for you. People love to worry about AI taking design jobs, and my honest answer is that if you're truly specific and thoughtful, no computer is coming for you any time soon, because AI makes generic, bland, forgettable things. Specificity is your protection.

How to actually choose your niche

So how do you get specific? You have more handles to grab than most people realize. You can niche by style, like traditional, or Mediterranean, or warm modern. You can niche by project type, like new builds, or historic renovations, or additions. You can niche by the kind of client you want to serve, and by the feeling you're after in a home. And here's the real magic, you can stack two or three of these together.

Say you decided to become the wellness-home designer for busy, high-earning families. Instantly you know exactly who you're talking to and what they need, calm, restorative, screen-free spaces, a home that actually helps them slow down. Every single design decision gets easier, because you already know precisely who it's for. That's what a good niche does. It doesn't shrink your world, it sharpens it.

The one axis I'd be careful leaning on by itself is location. "I design homes in Austin" isn't really a niche, it's a zip code, because there are a hundred completely different kinds of homes and clients inside any one city. Where you work can absolutely be part of your story, it just can't be the whole story.

The steps to actually find yours

If you want this as a simple process you can start this week, here it is.

1. Collect your gut reactions. For a week or two, pay attention to every home, room, and image that stops you in your tracks, and every one that leaves you cold. Screenshot them and drop them into a single Pinterest board or a folder on your phone. Don't judge any of it yet, just gather.

2. Look for the thread. Go back through everything you saved and ask what it has in common. Is it a certain style? A kind of light or texture? Older homes, or new builds? Cozy and small, or grand and open? The pattern is almost always already there. You just have to name it.

3. Pick your handles. Choose from the four levers we just talked about, style, project type, type of client, and the feeling you're after. You don't need all four. Two or three stacked together is where the real magic is.

4. Say it in one sentence. Force yourself to finish this line out loud: "I'm the designer who ___ for ___." Something like, "I'm the designer who turns dated, chopped-up houses into warm, open homes for growing families." Specific enough that someone could picture the work, and picture you doing it. If saying it makes you a little excited and a little nervous at the same time, you're onto something.

5. Test it by making something. Pick one real house you find online, reimagine it exactly the way your niche would, and put it out into the world. You don't need a full set of drawings, just enough to show how you'd approach it and why. I walk through doing this from scratch in build a portfolio with no clients. You'll learn more from one real attempt than from a month of overthinking, and it starts pulling in the exact work you just described.

6. Refine as you go. Notice what lands, what lights you up, and what quietly drains you, and let your focus sharpen over the next few projects. It's supposed to evolve.

You don't have to pick perfectly, or forever

Here's the part I most want you to hear, because it's the exact thing that keeps people frozen. You are not signing a contract in blood. If you love ten different things, you don't have to grieve nine of them to choose one. You just start somewhere, with the work that pulls at you the most right now, and you get great at it.

Your niche will sharpen and shift as you go, mine certainly did. When I started out, I was much more drawn to sleek, minimal, modern homes. If you'd told me back then that I'd become known for warm, traditional, Mediterranean Revival and historic work, I'm honestly not sure I would have believed you. My focus grew and changed right alongside me, and yours will too. The only real mistake is staying so afraid of choosing wrong that you never choose at all, because being a little bit of everything to everyone is the one path that truly guarantees no one remembers you. Pick a direction, put in the reps, and trust that you can refine it later. You always can.

Be narrow, but not closed off

Now, one important nuance, because I don't want you to hear "niche" and panic. Be very narrow in how you speak, how you market, and the opinions you share. But don't be so rigid that you won't touch anything else. I focus on residential design, but over the years I've quietly done small commercial, some retail, a bit of everything. I don't market any of it or talk about it, but it's given me a deeper understanding, and it means if the market shifts, I can adjust. Stay narrow in your message, stay a little open in your learning.

And please don't let your location box you in. We're in a global economy now. I have projects from Michigan to California to South Florida, and I've advised on work all over the world. So if you don't love the work happening around you, that's completely fine. Do what you love, put it out there, and the right projects will find you. I promise they will, and I get into exactly how that works in how to get clients.

Other designers aren't your competition

One last thing, because I know this fear runs deep. When you finally get specific about your niche, it can feel terrifyingly small, like you're staking a claim on a tiny patch of ground that a dozen other designers are already standing on. You scroll and see someone doing gorgeous work in the exact style you love, and your stomach drops a little, like they got there first and there's no room left for you. This whole industry can feel that way, cutthroat and gatekept, like everyone is quietly guarding their spot. I know that ache, and I need you to hear that it's a lie.

I've honestly never seen it that way. The designers who are truly great at what they do are collaborators, not competition. If a client doesn't feel the right connection with me, I genuinely want them to go work with someone else, because forcing a bad fit serves no one. And here's the truth it took me too long to trust. There are more than enough beautiful homes out there for all of us. Someone else's success in your niche isn't proof there's no room for you, it's proof that the work you love has real demand. The more we share and the more we lift each other up, the more we all grow. Scarcity is the story that keeps you small and quiet and generic. Please don't buy it.

Frequently asked questions

Do residential designers really need a niche? Yes, if you want to charge premium rates and be sought out. Being specific is what makes you the obvious choice instead of one of a thousand generalists, and it's what protects you from being replaced by something generic.

What are some examples of a design niche? Plenty. You can niche by style, like traditional, Mediterranean Revival, or warm modern. By project type, like historic renovations, new builds, additions, or small-space design. By client or life stage, like young families, empty nesters, or aging-in-place. Or by a value or feeling, like sustainable homes, wellness-focused spaces, or cozy and collected. The strongest niches usually stack two of these together, like "warm, historic renovations for growing families."

How do I find my niche if I don't know what I love yet? Start collecting. For a couple of weeks, save every home and room that stops you, and notice the ones that leave you cold. Your niche is almost always hiding in the pattern of what you're already drawn to. You don't have to invent it, you just have to notice it.

How narrow should my niche be? Narrow in your message, your marketing, and your opinions, but not so narrow that there's no work left. "Mid-century bathrooms for left-handed clients" is too narrow. "Warm, historic home renovations" is specific enough to be memorable and broad enough to keep you busy. Aim for that middle, and stay open enough to take some outside work for learning and flexibility.

Does my city limit the work I can get? No. Good work travels. You can design for clients anywhere, so build your niche around the work you truly love, not just what happens to be local.

Can I change my niche later? Absolutely, and most designers do. Your focus naturally sharpens and shifts as you grow. Pick the direction that pulls at you most right now, get great at it, and trust that you can refine it later. You're choosing a starting point, not signing away the rest of your career.