Persona: Mariana Ferreira, 33, Almada, Portugal — The Core Target
Date: 30 May 2026
Interviewer: Thank you for taking the time to speak with me today, Mariana. I'm conducting research on behalf of a new interior design service, and I'd love to get your honest perspective. There are no right or wrong answers here — I'm genuinely interested in your reactions, even if they're negative or uncertain. The concept is still in development, so critical feedback is just as valuable as positive feedback. I'll start by asking you a few questions about your current living situation and how you think about your home. Then I'll share some information about this service and ask for your reactions. The whole thing should take about twenty to twenty-five minutes. Does that sound all right?
Mariana: Yes, sure. I should warn you, I'm probably not the right person for this. I don't really know anything about interior design. But yes, I'm happy to help.
Interviewer: You're exactly the right person — I promise. And really, the most helpful thing you can do is be completely honest. I'm not the person who created this, so you won't hurt anyone's feelings. Let's start with something simple. Tell me a bit about your current living situation — your home, who you live with, and how you generally feel about the space you're in.
Mariana: Okay. So I live in Almada, across the river from Lisbon, with my husband Ricardo and our two kids — Tomás is five and Beatriz is three. It's a T2, so two bedrooms, about seventy square metres. We've been there six years now. It's... fine. It's functional. The kids have a room, we have a room, and the living room is where everything happens — playing, eating, folding laundry, everything.
Interviewer: When you walk through your front door at the end of the day, what's the first thing you notice?
Mariana: Shoes. laughs There are always shoes by the door because we don't have a proper place for them. And then usually toys. Tomás leaves things everywhere. It's just... there's always stuff. I tidy up and then two hours later it looks exactly the same.
Interviewer: Is there anything about your home that frustrates you, or that you wish were different?
Mariana: pauses I mean, everything? And nothing? It's hard to explain. The furniture doesn't match — most of it came from Ricardo's parents or my family. The sofa is from his mother, the dining table is this dark wood thing from his parents' old house. My childhood bookshelf is in the corner. Nothing goes together, but everything works, you know? You can sit on it, eat on it, put books on it. I just... sometimes I look at it all and I feel tired. Not angry. Just tired.
Interviewer: You said you feel tired when you look at it. Can you say more about that? What does that tiredness feel like?
Mariana: It's like... I know it could be different. I see things online — on Instagram, Pinterest — these beautiful apartments, and they're so calm and bright and organised. And then I look at my living room and it's just this collection of other people's things. I tried once, you know? I bought some cushion covers from Primark and a plant from IKEA. And they looked nice for about a day. And then they just disappeared into the mess. Like a drop in the ocean. So the tiredness is — I think it's knowing that small things won't fix it, and big things are impossible.
Interviewer: That's really clear. Thank you. How much time and energy do you typically spend thinking about how your home looks or feels?
Mariana: More than I would admit to anyone. laughs quietly I scroll Instagram after the kids go to bed, almost every night. I save posts. Beautiful kitchens, living rooms, storage ideas. I have hundreds of saved posts. But I never do anything with them. It's like window shopping for a life I can't afford.
Interviewer: Have you ever considered getting help with your home — from a designer, a service, a friend with good taste, even an app?
Mariana: laughs A designer? No. No, I mean — I wouldn't even know how to begin that conversation. My friends would think I was crazy. We're not those people. In Portugal, especially where I live, you don't hire a designer. That's for people with money, people in Lisbon proper, people with those big apartments in Chiado or whatever. We're in Almada. We're paying the rent, paying for the car, buying school supplies. A designer is not in that reality.
Interviewer: When you hear the words "interior designer," what comes to mind? What kind of person do you picture?
Mariana: Someone very stylish. Very put-together. A woman, probably, wearing all black, with perfect nails. Someone who walks into a beautiful house that's already nice and makes it nicer. Not someone who would look at my flat with the plastic toys and the mismatched furniture and the laundry pile and know what to do with it. Or want to.
Interviewer: Do you feel that interior design services are something that's available to people in your situation?
Mariana: No. Honestly, no. And I don't mean that in a bitter way. It's just — it's like asking if a personal chef is available to me. Technically, yes, they exist. But in practice, it's a different world.
Interviewer: Thank you for being so honest, Mariana. That's really helpful. Now I'd like to tell you about a specific service and get your reactions. It's called Everyday Living Interiors. It's run by a woman named Sara de Abreu, based in Amsterdam. Let me walk you through what you'd see if you visited her website.
The first thing you see is a large heading that says: "Your Home Should Support Your Life, Not Compete With It." Below that it says: "Beautiful, functional homes should be accessible, not intimidating, elitist, or expensive."
There's a photo of a warm, lived-in kitchen — wooden cabinets, a table with flowers and books, someone walking through the frame. It feels real rather than staged.
Scrolling down, you see a section called "Real People, Real Homes" with three project examples: a full apartment redesign for a family with children in Amsterdam, a virtual consultation done in under thirty minutes by video call, and a kitchen design for a couple who liked different styles.
Then there are four services. The Room Reset — a sixty-minute online session to help you move forward with clarity. The Thoughtful Edit — elevate your space with what you already have, no waste, no extra spending. The Design Roadmap — a full concept and design package with ideas, colours, layouts, and a shopping list. And The Clutter Edit — help when decluttering and organising feels overwhelming.
There are client testimonials from people in the Netherlands and Belgium. One says Sara helped them create cohesion with minimal effort and expense. Another praises how she found solutions that honoured both partners' different tastes.
In the About section, Sara shares that she trained at the National Design Academy but has been passionate about interiors since childhood. She says she's been helping friends redesign homes, stage spaces, and rethink layouts for years. She emphasises working with what you already own and avoiding unnecessary spending.
There is no pricing information visible anywhere on the website. To get started, you fill in a contact form with your name, email, and a message.
The website's mission statement says: "Good interior design isn't about trends or picture-perfect rooms. It's about creating spaces that feel comfortable, functional, and personal."
That's the overview. Take a moment to let that settle.
Pause.
Mariana: quiet for several seconds Hm. Okay. It sounds... nicer than what I expected. The tagline, the one about your home supporting your life — that's good. That actually — that hits something.
Interviewer: What does it hit?
Mariana: Because that's exactly what my home doesn't do. It doesn't support me. I support it. I clean it, I organise it, I fight it every day. And it just... sits there being ugly. So yes, that phrase, I felt that.
Interviewer: What else stood out to you — positively or negatively?
Mariana: The photo of the kitchen sounded nice. Real, you said. That matters. Because usually when I see design websites — not that I visit many — but when I see them on Instagram, everything is so perfect that I immediately think, this is not my world. But a table with flowers and books and someone walking through... that's closer to real life. I liked that.
Interviewer: And anything that gave you pause?
Mariana: hesitates Well — it's based in Amsterdam. So already I'm wondering, is this even for me? I'm in Portugal. Can she help someone who's not in the Netherlands? And the testimonials are from the Netherlands and Belgium. So I'm already feeling like an outsider, which — I know, I know, it's online, it doesn't matter. But it's a feeling, you know?
Interviewer: That's an important feeling. Let me ask you this — based on what you've heard, who do you think this service is designed for? Describe that person.
Mariana: Someone in the Netherlands or Belgium, probably. A woman, maybe thirty to forty-five, with a decent income. Not rich, but comfortable. Someone who has a nice-ish apartment that just needs some help. Someone who can afford to think about these things. Someone who already has the basics covered — their furniture is probably from IKEA or something modern, not hand-me-downs from their mother-in-law.
Interviewer: Do you see yourself as that person?
Mariana: long pause Part of me wants to. The part that scrolls Instagram every night. But honestly? No. My situation feels too far gone for a sixty-minute session. What is she going to do with my flat in sixty minutes? Move the dark wood table that weighs a thousand kilos? Make the mismatched furniture suddenly work together? I just — I don't see how it applies to me.
Interviewer: What specifically makes you feel excluded?
Mariana: The fact that there are no prices. That scares me immediately. Because when there are no prices, it usually means it's expensive and they want to get you on the phone first. And then you feel embarrassed saying you can't afford it. I would never fill in a contact form without knowing the price first. Never.
Interviewer: If you had to guess the price range, what would you assume?
Mariana: For a sixty-minute consultation? I don't know — two hundred, three hundred euros? Something like that. Maybe more. Because it's a designer, it's a professional service, it's Amsterdam...
Interviewer: Let's come back to pricing in a moment. The tagline is "Your Home Should Support Your Life, Not Compete With It." You said it hit something. Can you think of a specific moment when your home felt like it was competing with your life?
Mariana: Every morning. laughs, but it's not really funny Every morning when I'm trying to get the kids ready and I can't find Tomás's shoes because there's no proper place for anything. Or when I sit down on that sofa at night and the cushions are so flat that my back hurts. Or when — okay, this is silly — but when my sister-in-law visits and I can see her looking around and I know she's thinking, couldn't they at least get a new sofa? That's when it feels like competition. Like my home is in a race with my life and it's losing.
Interviewer: That doesn't sound silly at all. Let me ask about the services. There were four — The Room Reset, The Thoughtful Edit, The Design Roadmap, and The Clutter Edit. Can you tell me in your own words what each one involves?
Mariana: Okay, um. The Room Reset is like a one-hour call where she helps you figure out what to do with a room. The Thoughtful Edit is about making things better with what you already have. The Design Roadmap is the full thing — she designs your whole space. And The Clutter Edit is for people who have too much stuff and need help organising. Like me. laughs
Interviewer: Which of these would be most relevant to your situation right now?
Mariana: The Clutter Edit, definitely. Because that's the real problem. Before anything can look nice, the chaos has to stop. But also The Thoughtful Edit, because I literally cannot buy new furniture. If someone could look at what I have and tell me how to arrange it differently, or what small changes to make — that would be the dream. But I keep coming back to whether it's realistic for my kind of home.
Interviewer: What would you expect to receive after a session — what's the deliverable, the thing you walk away with?
Mariana: That's a good question. I have no idea. A list of suggestions? A drawing? I would need to know exactly what I'm getting. Because if it's just a conversation — just someone saying, oh, try moving the sofa over there — I can get that from my mother for free. I'd need something concrete. A plan. Something I can look at afterwards and follow step by step.
Interviewer: The Thoughtful Edit says "Elevate your space with what you already have — no waste, no extra spending." How does that land with you?
Mariana: pauses Two ways. Part of me loves it because — yes, that's exactly what I need. I can't spend money on new things. So someone who can work with what I have, that feels made for me. But another part of me thinks... is that even real? Can you really make my flat look good with a twenty-year-old dark wood table and a dead sofa? It sounds like a promise that might not survive contact with my actual apartment.
Interviewer: So it creates hope and doubt at the same time.
Mariana: Exactly. Hope and doubt. That's exactly it.
Interviewer: There's no pricing anywhere on the website. You mentioned that scares you. Tell me more about how the absence of pricing affects your experience.
Mariana: It's a wall. Full stop. If I went to that website and there were no prices, I would leave. I wouldn't fill in the form. Because in my head, no price means expensive. And I would feel stupid writing a message saying, hi, I have a seventy-square-metre flat in Almada with hand-me-down furniture, how much does this cost? I would feel like I was wasting her time and mine. I need to know the price before I even consider whether it's for me.
Interviewer: What if I told you the sixty-minute online session costs approximately fifty euros?
Mariana: silence
Wait, really?
Interviewer: Yes. Around fifty euros for the sixty-minute session.
Mariana: exhales Okay. That — that changes things. That's... I mean, that's still money. For us, fifty euros is not nothing. That's a week of groceries for the kids. But it's not three hundred. It's not what I imagined. I thought it would be completely out of reach, and fifty euros is — I would have to think about it, I would have to talk to Ricardo, but it's in the zone of possible. It's the kind of thing where I'd have to justify it to myself, but I could justify it. If I knew what I was getting.
Interviewer: I noticed you said you'd have to justify it to yourself. What would that justification need to be?
Mariana: I'd need to believe it would actually make a difference. Not just a nice conversation, but a real, concrete difference. Like, she gives me a plan, I follow it, and my flat looks and feels better. If I could believe that, fifty euros is — it's like buying something for the house that actually works. Like a good piece of furniture. Except it's the knowledge of how to make the furniture I already have work better. pauses When you put it that way, it's actually kind of brilliant. But I'd need proof. Real before-and-after photos. Real people with flats like mine. Not Amsterdam canal houses.
Interviewer: Would you prefer to see prices upfront on the website?
Mariana: Absolutely. Yes. A thousand times yes. If I had seen fifty euros on the website, I would have stayed. I would have kept reading. Without the price, I'm gone in ten seconds.
Interviewer: Let's talk about Sara herself. She shares that she's always made beautiful spaces even when she had very little money — that she grew up making her childhood room beautiful with whatever she had. She's been helping friends redesign their homes for years before making it her profession. How do you respond to that?
Mariana: softens That's good. That's really good. Because it means she knows. She knows what it's like to not have money and still want a nice home. That's me. That's literally me. I used to rearrange my bedroom when I was a teenager, trying to make it look like the rooms in magazines. With nothing. Just moving things around. So if she's done that too, then maybe she would understand my flat. Maybe she wouldn't look at it and think it's hopeless.
Interviewer: Does knowing this make you more or less likely to trust her?
Mariana: More. Definitely more. Because it's not just a professional saying she can help — it's someone who has been where I am. Or close to it. That matters. But I'll also say — and I don't mean this in a bad way — she's in Amsterdam now, she has a business, she has a website. So part of me wonders if she still remembers what it's really like. Or if the story is just... the origin story. You know?
Interviewer: That's a really perceptive distinction. The testimonials mention that the process felt collaborative — that Sara listened carefully to what clients wanted. How important is that to you?
Mariana: Very important. Because my worst fear — if I ever worked with a designer — would be that they'd come in and judge everything. Judge the furniture, judge my taste, judge how we live. I need someone who would look at my dark wood table and not say, get rid of that, but say, okay, let's work with this. Because I can't get rid of it. Ricardo's mother gave it to us. It stays. So collaboration isn't a nice extra — it's the only way it could work.
Interviewer: Imagine you've just finished looking at this website. Be honest — what would you do next? Would you fill in the contact form, leave and think about it, close the tab, or something else?
Mariana: thinks Without the price, I close the tab. That's the truth. I close it and I feel a little sad and a little relieved, because I confirmed what I already believed — it's not for me.
With the price — if it said fifty euros, right there on the page — I think I would... save it. Bookmark it. And think about it for a week. Maybe two. And then maybe, if I had a particularly bad evening staring at the flat, I might show it to Ricardo and say, what do you think?
Interviewer: What's the single biggest thing holding you back?
Mariana: Honestly? It's not the money. I mean, the money is part of it, but the real thing is — I'm afraid it won't work for me. That my home is too far gone, too small, too cluttered, too full of furniture I can't change. I'm afraid I'll spend fifty euros and she'll say, you really need to start from scratch, and that will make me feel worse than I do now. The risk isn't losing fifty euros. The risk is losing the hope that something small could help.
Interviewer: Is there anything about your home, your life, or your relationship with design that this website doesn't acknowledge — something that, if it did, would make you feel more seen?
Mariana: long pause The shame. Nobody talks about the shame. The shame of having a home that embarrasses you. The shame of knowing your kids deserve better. The shame of scrolling past beautiful homes every night and feeling like you failed at something that everyone else seems to manage. If the website acknowledged that — if it said something like, we know your home might be the last thing you feel proud of right now, and that's okay, and we can start from exactly where you are — I think I would cry. And then I would fill in the form.
Interviewer: Thank you, Mariana. That's incredibly honest. If Sara could add one thing to her website tomorrow that would make the difference for you, what would it be?
Mariana: A before-and-after of a home like mine. Not a nice apartment that got nicer. A messy, small, cluttered flat with furniture that doesn't match and kids' toys everywhere — and then what it looked like after. With a real budget. With real constraints. If I could see that transformation in a space I recognise, I would believe it. Right now, I want to believe it, but I don't have proof.
Interviewer: Two final questions. If a friend asked you, "What is Everyday Living Interiors?", how would you describe it in one or two sentences?
Mariana: It's an online interior design service for people who don't have a lot of money but want their home to feel better. The designer works with what you already have and helps you make it work.
Interviewer: On a scale of one to ten, how likely would you be to recommend this website to someone you know who is struggling with their home?
Mariana: If the price was on the website — seven. Maybe eight. Because I have friends who feel exactly like me. We just don't talk about it. But if one of us found something that was actually affordable and actually understood our lives, word would spread fast. Without the price visible? Three. Because I wouldn't recommend something where I can't tell my friend what it costs.
Interviewer: What would move that number up?
Mariana: The before-and-after I mentioned. Real homes. Real budgets. And prices visible from the start. Those three things, and it goes to nine. Because the idea is beautiful. The philosophy is right. It just needs to prove it can reach people like me, and it needs to stop hiding behind a contact form.
Interviewer: Is there anything we haven't talked about that you'd like to add — any reaction, thought, or feeling that didn't come up?
Mariana: Just one thing. The name — Everyday Living Interiors. I like it. "Everyday" is the right word. Because that's what my home is. It's everyday. It's not a project or a showroom. It's where my kids eat breakfast and where I fold laundry and where I sit at night and wish it were different. If this service really means "everyday," then it should look everyday. The website, the photos, the examples — all of it should feel like my Tuesday evening, not like a magazine. That's how she'll reach people like me.
Interviewer: Thank you so much for your time and your honesty, Mariana. Your feedback is genuinely valuable and will help shape how this service evolves. I really appreciate you sharing your perspective.
Mariana: Thank you. I hope she makes it work. I think a lot of people need this. We just don't know it exists yet.
Post-interview notes
The belonging verdict: Mariana's default is self-exclusion. She does not believe interior design services are for people in her situation — financially, spatially, or culturally. The website's aspirational quality and missing pricing reinforce this. However, the philosophy and tagline resonate deeply, and the €50 price point shifts her from "not for me" to "maybe possible." The gap is not fundamental; it is a communication failure.
The pricing reaction: Mariana assumed €200–300 for a session. When told €50, her reaction was physical — an audible exhale, genuine surprise. It moved her from closing the tab to bookmarking the page. The absence of visible pricing is the single largest conversion barrier for this persona. She will never fill in a contact form to discover a price.
The emotional gap: Shame. Mariana carries deep, unnamed shame about her home. The website does not acknowledge this emotion. She needs language that normalises her starting point — not aspirational language about beautiful outcomes, but compassionate language about difficult beginnings. Her phrase "we know your home might be the last thing you feel proud of right now" is a direct gift to ELI's copywriting.
The clarity test: Mariana distinguished the four services reasonably well but expressed uncertainty about deliverables. She needs to know exactly what she receives — a plan, a document, specific steps — not just a conversation. The "deliverable gap" is significant for price-sensitive personas who need to justify every euro.
The trust assessment: Sara's personal story of making beautiful spaces with very little money created the strongest emotional connection in the interview. Mariana identified with it immediately. However, she also questioned whether Sara still lives in that reality — a subtle but important challenge to authenticity as the brand grows.
The action barrier: Fear that her home is beyond help. The financial barrier is secondary; the psychological barrier is primary. Mariana is afraid that engaging with the service will confirm her worst belief — that her flat is hopeless. She needs proof (before-and-after imagery of comparable homes) more than reassurance.
The referral test: 7–8 with visible pricing; 3 without. The gap is enormous and directly actionable. Mariana's social network of young mothers in similar situations represents significant word-of-mouth potential, but only if the website removes the pricing barrier.
Unprompted insights: (1) The geographic/cultural distance — Mariana felt excluded by Netherlands/Belgium-only testimonials. Expanding social proof to Portuguese or broadly Southern European contexts would widen reach. (2) The furniture inheritance dynamic — she cannot discard inherited furniture for cultural and family reasons. ELI's "work with what you have" message must explicitly address furniture you did not choose. (3) The magazine clipping still on the fridge — Mariana's aspiration is long-standing and deep, but she has never encountered a pathway that felt accessible. ELI could be that pathway if it meets her where she is.