Interview Transcript — Daan van der Berg

Persona: Daan van der Berg, 41, project manager, Amsterdam-Oost
Date: 12 June 2026
Interviewer: Research interviewer (synthetic)
Format: One-on-one qualitative interview, ~28 minutes
Context: First-time exposure to the live Everyday Living Interiors website

Introduction

Interviewer Thank you for taking the time to speak with me today. I'm conducting research on behalf of an 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. 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 walk you through this service's website — a real site that's live right now — and ask for your reactions. The whole conversation should take about 25 to 30 minutes. Does that sound all right?

Daan Yeah, sure. Happy to help.

Section 1: Context setting

Interviewer Great. So 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.

Daan Right. So I bought my first apartment about four months ago. Amsterdam-Oost, 1930s building, nice high ceilings, wooden floors. It is — objectively — a good apartment. The problem is that it is also mostly empty. I have a dining table from IKEA that was supposed to be temporary, a bed frame, a wardrobe, and... honestly, that is about it. I have been telling people I am still settling in, but at this point even I do not believe that anymore.

Interviewer When you walk through your front door at the end of the day, what is the first thing you notice?

Daan The echo. That sounds dramatic, but when you have no sofa, no rug, no curtains, hardwood floors — it is echoey. And then the boxes. I still have moving boxes stacked against one wall. I have recycled most of them, but there are a few I have not opened because I do not know where to put the things inside. So the first thing I notice is that it does not feel finished. It does not feel like a home yet.

Interviewer How much time and energy do you spend thinking about how your home looks or feels?

Daan Too much, and somehow not enough at the same time. I spend a lot of time researching. I have — I am not exaggerating — forty-seven browser tabs open right now across three windows. Sofa comparisons, rug dimensions, colour palette guides. I have a spreadsheet with furniture measurements. I have drawn the floor plan on graph paper. And I have bought nothing. Zero major purchases. So the energy is there, the output is not.

Interviewer Have you ever considered getting help with your home — from a designer, a service, a friend with good taste?

Daan I have thought about it, vaguely. But when I hear "interior designer," I immediately think of someone charging five thousand euros to do a whole apartment, minimum. I once looked at a Dutch design firm and the starting quote was — I think it was five thousand or maybe more. So I mentally put the whole idea in a box labelled "not realistic" and closed it. I have a friend, Lisa, who has a beautiful apartment, and she has offered to help. But I feel strange asking. Like, this should be something I can figure out myself. I am forty-one. I manage complex projects at work with dozens of stakeholders. The fact that I cannot pick a sofa colour is... embarrassing, frankly.

Interviewer Do you feel that interior design services are something available to people in your situation?

Daan Available to people with much bigger budgets, yes. Available to me — I had not considered it seriously, no. The mental model is: you hire a designer when you are renovating a villa. Not when you are a single guy staring at an empty room who cannot commit to a rug.

Section 2: Website presentation

Interviewer I'd like to show you a website for a service called Everyday Living Interiors. It's run by a woman named Sara de Abreu — she's originally from Lisbon, now based in Diemen, near Amsterdam. The website is live right now. Let me walk you through what you'd see.

The first thing that hits you is the typography. The logo — 'Everyday Living Interiors' — is set in a large, bold serif font, stacked across three lines like a magazine masthead. Below it, in small sans-serif: 'by Sara de Abreu.' The overall feel is confident — editorial, almost. Black and white, clean, minimal.

Below the logo, a warm photograph fills the screen — a real living room with natural textures, warm tones, and lived-in quality. Not a showroom. Over or near this image, a large serif heading reads: 'Your Home Should Support Your Life, Not Compete With It.'

Below that, Sara describes her belief that everyone deserves a home that feels like theirs, that interior design should be accessible and practical.

Scrolling down, you see a curated grid of interior photographs — real spaces with warm tones, natural materials, textiles, close-ups of styling details. Hands arranging objects. A stack of cushions in earthy tones. It feels like a lifestyle magazine, but these are real homes.

Then a transitional section appears: 'Whenever You're Ready, Styling Starts Right Here, Where You Are.'

This is a general invitation — welcoming, warm, saying wherever you're at is a fine place to begin.

Next comes the services and pricing section. Three service tiers, each with its name and price clearly visible:

The Room Reset — eighty euros. A virtual consultation where you send photos, meet online for 60 to 90 minutes, and receive a written follow-up with layout suggestions, colour guidance, and product recommendations.

The Design Roadmap — from two hundred fifty euros. A complete written plan: moodboard, colour palette, floor plan, lighting recommendations, and a shopping list with links and price ranges.

The Living Space Plan — from five hundred forty euros per room. Full interior design from concept to completion, including 3D visualisations, sourcing, and styling support.

Each service has its own detailed page with a clear structure: what it is, how it works, what you receive, and who it's for. The deliverables are specific — PDFs, shopping lists, follow-up emails, 3D renders.

Below the services, a section headed 'Real People, Real Results' shows portfolio previews — thumbnail images of completed projects. Then a section asks: 'Can't Find What Suits Your Situation?' It invites you to get in touch and says Sara will help you choose what works for you.

The footer appears on every page against a warm blush-beige background. It shows: 'From Lisbon / Based in Amsterdam — Diemen Zuid,' her email address, phone number, Instagram and Pinterest links, and a newsletter signup.

That's the main website. Take a moment to let that settle.

Daan ...

Huh. Okay. That is... not what I expected.

Section 3: First impressions and visual identity

Interviewer What's your first, honest reaction to what I just described?

Daan Two things happened at the same time. The first is that the website sounds really professional. Like, genuinely well-made. The typography, the photography — that sounds like a serious operation. The second thing is the prices. Eighty euros? I was sitting here assuming everything in this category starts at a few thousand. Eighty euros is... I spend more than that on dinner sometimes. That is the price of getting stuck for another month. So my first reaction is surprise. Good surprise, but also a little bit of — is this real?

Interviewer What do you mean, "is this real"?

Daan The website sounds like it belongs to a premium design studio. Magazine-style typography, editorial photography, black and white — that is a look I associate with expensive things. And then the price says eighty euros. There is a gap there. I am not saying it is a problem, but my brain is doing the calculation: if it looks this polished, how can the entry point be eighty euros? Either the website is more ambitious than the service, or the service is more accessible than the website suggests. I want to believe it is the second one, but I would need more evidence.

Interviewer Does the editorial visual style make you feel like this is a premium service? An accessible one? Something else?

Daan It makes me feel like it is a credible service. The design quality signals competence, which is what I respond to. I am a project manager — I evaluate people partly on how they present their work. A sloppy website would have lost me in seconds. So the polish is a positive. But "accessible" — I would not have guessed that from the design alone. The prices tell me that. The design tells me "professional." Those are not the same thing, but they can coexist. I think it works, actually. It is saying: this is quality, and it does not cost what you think it costs. That is a strong combination if I trust it.

Interviewer Based on what you've heard, who do you think this service is designed for?

Daan Someone who wants to do something with their home but does not know where to start. Someone who is not looking for a full renovation but needs... direction. A framework. Maybe someone who has been thinking about their space for too long and needs a professional to cut through the noise. That sounds — I mean, that is literally me. But I would want to be sure it is for someone like me specifically, not just someone with a different starting point. Like, there is a difference between "I have a fully furnished apartment and I want to refresh it" and "I have an empty apartment and I am paralysed." The second one is me. I am not sure the website knows that person exists.

Section 4: Pricing and services

Interviewer The three services are: The Room Reset at eighty euros, The Design Roadmap from two hundred fifty euros, and The Living Space Plan from five hundred forty euros per room. Can you tell me in your own words what each one involves?

Daan The Room Reset is a consultation. You send photos, you talk for an hour or ninety minutes, and then you get a document — a PDF — with specific recommendations. Layout, colour, product suggestions with links. That is clear. The Design Roadmap is a full plan. Moodboard, colour palette, floor plan, lighting, a shopping list. So you could take that document and execute it yourself. And the Living Space Plan is the full service — she does everything, including 3D renders and sourcing. That is the premium tier.

Interviewer Which of these would be most relevant to your situation right now?

Daan My project-manager brain says The Design Roadmap. Because what I need is a plan. I need someone to look at my L-shaped living room, understand the constraints, and give me a document that says: this sofa, this size, this colour, here. This rug, these dimensions. These shelves, this wall. A shopping list with links and price ranges — that is exactly what I need. I have been trying to build that plan myself for four months and I cannot do it because every decision branches into twelve more decisions. But if someone hands me a clear plan, I can execute. I am very good at executing plans. I am terrible at making them when taste is involved.

Interviewer What is your reaction to those prices?

Daan Honestly? My first reaction is: wait, that is it? I assumed interior design started at — I do not know — two thousand? Three thousand? Eighty euros for a consultation is less than I spend on a week of takeaway when I am too tired to cook. Two hundred fifty for a full design plan — that is... that is surprisingly reasonable. I earn a decent salary. This is not a financial barrier. The barrier was always the assumption that the barrier was financial, if that makes sense.

Interviewer Does having prices visible on the website — right in the heading of each service page — affect your trust?

Daan Absolutely. If the prices were hidden behind a "request a quote" form, I would never have filled it in. I would have assumed it meant "expensive enough that we do not want to show you." Visible pricing tells me two things: one, they are confident in their value. Two, they respect my time. That is exactly the kind of efficiency I appreciate. I do not want to have a preliminary conversation to find out if I can afford you. Just tell me.

Interviewer There is a gap between eighty euros for a virtual consultation and two hundred fifty for a full design plan. Is there anything you would want in between?

Daan Hmm. Now that you mention it, the jump is noticeable. Eighty to two-fifty is a big step. The Room Reset is talking and a follow-up. The Design Roadmap is a comprehensive document. What if I want something in between — like, more hands-on than a call, but I am not ready for a full plan? If she came to my apartment and just... walked through it with me. Pointed at things. Said "that wall, put shelves here, the sofa goes there, do not overthink the colour, just go with this." Something physical, in-person, but without the full plan document. Would I pay a hundred and fifty for that? Immediately. Yes.

Interviewer Does the jump from eighty to two-fifty feel manageable without that middle option?

Daan I mean, I can afford two-fifty. The question is more psychological. Eighty feels like dipping my toe in. Two-fifty feels like committing. For someone like me, who has been stuck for four months, the ability to take a smaller step first might actually be important. But honestly, I think I might just go straight to The Design Roadmap anyway, because what I really need is the plan.

Section 5: Emotional resonance and personal connection

Interviewer The homepage has a section that says 'Whenever you're ready, styling starts right here, where you are.' How do you respond to that?

Daan It is nice. It is warm. But it is a bit — how do I say this — generic? Like, it could be for anyone. It does not tell me that this person understands my specific problem, which is not that I have bad taste or that my home is ugly. My home is empty. My problem is that I am stuck. I am overwhelmed by choices and I cannot commit. "Whenever you're ready" almost sounds like it is saying "no pressure," which is kind, but pressure is not my problem. Indecision is my problem. If it said something like "if you have been researching for months and still cannot decide — that is exactly where we start" — that would have stopped me scrolling. That would have made me feel like someone had been reading my browser history.

Interviewer Is there anything about your situation that you wish the website acknowledged more directly?

Daan The embarrassment. I am a competent adult. I manage million-euro projects. And I cannot pick a rug. That is a very specific kind of shame, and I think a lot of people feel it but never say it. If the website acknowledged that — said something like "you are great at your job but your apartment makes you feel incompetent, and that is more common than you think" — I would have an emotional reaction to that. I would feel seen. Instead, the homepage offers warmth but not specificity. It welcomes everyone, which means it does not feel like it is welcoming me in particular.

Interviewer There is an About page where Sara introduces herself. She shares that she came from corporate marketing, that she started by helping friends before launching officially. She says she believes homes do not need to look like a magazine — they need to work for you. How does that land?

Daan The corporate background is interesting. That actually helps. It tells me she thinks in a structured way, not just in a "follow your heart" way. I do not need someone to follow my heart. I need someone to give me a framework. The fact that she came from marketing and communications — that is a professional who pivoted, not someone who has been in a design bubble forever. I respect that transition. And "homes do not need to look like a magazine" — that is reassuring, because I am not trying to create a magazine home. I am trying to create a functional living space. But I would like to know more about her process. How does she actually work? What does the consultation look like? Is there a methodology, or is it intuitive? I respond to methodology.

Interviewer Now, the website also has a blog with two posts. Let me tell you about one in particular. It is called 'I Don't Design For Magazines.' In it, Sara writes about how social media and design blogs create unrealistic expectations — how every home makeover makes it look so easy, but real homes have real constraints. She says things like: 'Give me a cluttered pantry that nobody can find anything in, and I'll give you back your Tuesday mornings.' 'Give me your grandfather's antique old cabinet and your partner's IKEA shelf and I'll make them get along.' She says she is not trying to create aspirational spaces — she wants to help people with their actual daily lives. She describes her service as being about helping people love their home today, not redesigning it from scratch. How does that land?

Daan pauses

That is... significantly better. "Give me your grandfather's antique old cabinet and your partner's IKEA shelf and I'll make them get along" — that is a line that shows she understands real starting points. Not perfect starting points. Real ones. My starting point is an IKEA table and forty-seven browser tabs and a growing sense of failure. The blog post sounds like someone who would look at my empty apartment and not judge me. Who would say, "okay, let us work with this," not "oh, you should have started months ago."

The pantry line is clever, too. It is specific. It is about daily life, not aesthetics. That is the kind of practical framing that my brain responds to. "I will give you back your Tuesday mornings" — that is a return on investment I can understand.

Interviewer Does hearing that blog post change how you feel about the service compared to what you saw on the main website?

Daan Yes. Quite a lot, actually. The main website made me think: this is professional, the prices are good, I could see myself using this. The blog post makes me think: this person gets it. The website earned my trust. The blog earned my connection. Those are different things, and you need both. But here is the problem — would I have found that blog post? Honestly, probably not. If I land on the homepage and I see the services and the prices, I am either booking or I am leaving. I am not clicking through to a blog. The best content on the site might be in the place I am least likely to look.

Interviewer If that blog content were on the homepage instead of in a blog post, would it change your experience of the site?

Daan Completely. If the homepage said "I don't design for magazines" and then listed those specific examples — the pantry, the mismatched furniture, the real messes — that would be a different experience than the warm-but-general "whenever you're ready." The general version makes me feel welcome. The specific version makes me feel understood. For someone like me, who needs confidence to take the first step, feeling understood is what tips the balance.

Section 6: Portfolio and proof

Interviewer The website shows four real projects. One — a beach house in Portugal — shows clear before-and-after photos: tired, dated rooms transformed into warm, characterful spaces. The others show beautiful finished rooms but no 'before' images. How do you respond to that?

Daan Before-and-after is the gold standard for someone like me. Because my starting point is bad. Well — my starting point is nothing. It is empty rooms and temporary furniture. If I can see that someone else started from a rough place and ended up somewhere good, that gives me confidence that my situation is workable. Seeing only the "after" is nice, but it does not answer my real question, which is: what did it look like before? How bad was it? If it was bad and now it is good, then maybe my empty apartment can become good too. One before-and-after project is a start, but I would want more.

Interviewer None of the case studies show budgets — you cannot see how much was spent. Does that matter to you?

Daan It does. Because my next question after "can this work for my situation?" is "can this work for my budget?" If I see a beautiful finished room but I do not know if it cost five hundred euros or five thousand, I cannot calibrate. The beach house in Portugal — that sounds like a bigger project. Is that a Living Space Plan project? What was the budget? If I could see "living room refresh, budget under three hundred euros" or "apartment makeover, budget two thousand euros," that would help me position myself. Without budgets, the portfolio shows taste but not accessibility.

Interviewer One smaller project — a living room refresh in Ghent — describes working on a budget: a simple room refresh without spending much money. The client received advice over a 35-minute call and a shopping list within their budget. Does that specific example change how you perceive the service?

Daan Yes. That is the proof point I need. A 35-minute call, a shopping list, within budget — that is The Room Reset in action. That is someone who had a real constraint, got real advice, and ended up with a real result. If there were three or four examples like that, each with a different starting situation — a small budget, an awkward room, a first apartment, whatever — that would build a portfolio of relatability. Right now, the Ghent project is doing a lot of heavy lifting as the only budget-conscious example.

Section 7: Barriers and action

Interviewer Imagine you have just finished browsing this website on your phone. What would you do next — and be honest. Would you book a service, fill in the contact form, save the website for later, or close the tab?

Daan I would save the website. Not because I am not interested — I am very interested — but because saving is my comfort zone. My pattern is: find something good, bookmark it, tell myself I will come back to it, and then research three more options before making a decision. I know this about myself. What would get me from "save" to "book" is something that reduces the commitment feeling. If I could just... send a photo of my living room and get a quick reaction. Not a full consultation. Just someone saying, "I see what you are dealing with, here is what I would suggest as a first step." That would break the research loop.

Interviewer The contact page has a standard form — name, email, subject, message. There is no option to send a photo, no WhatsApp, no way to just ask a quick question without committing to a full enquiry. Does that affect your likelihood of reaching out?

Daan It does. A contact form feels formal. It feels like you are initiating a Business Relationship. And I am the kind of person who needs to feel ready before I initiate. If there were a WhatsApp option — or even better, if I could just send a photo with a one-line question like "is my L-shaped living room workable?" — that would lower the barrier enormously. WhatsApp especially, because it feels like a conversation, not an enquiry. A form says "I am a potential client." WhatsApp says "I have a quick question." For someone who is paralysed by commitment, that difference matters.

Interviewer The site does not have a FAQ section. If you had questions like 'Is it okay if my home is a mess?' or 'I don't have much budget — is this still for me?' or 'Do you work outside Amsterdam?' — where would you look for answers?

Daan I would... I would probably look for a FAQ, not find one, and then feel uncertain about whether to ask those questions in the contact form. My specific question would be something like: "My apartment is mostly empty and I have been unable to make any decisions for four months — is that the kind of starting point you work with, or do you mainly help people who already have furniture and need it rearranged?" That is a question I genuinely have. And if the answer were on the website — if there were a FAQ that said "yes, empty apartments, cluttered apartments, half-furnished apartments, all starting points are valid" — that would remove a barrier I did not even realise I had until you asked.

Interviewer Would you share this website with someone else? Who, and why?

Daan I would, actually. My friend Lisa — the one with the beautiful apartment — I would send it to her and say, "look at this, eighty euros for a consultation, is this real?" And my colleague Stefan, who just bought a place in Haarlem and has been complaining about the same paralysis I have. I would send it to him immediately. The combination of visible pricing and professional design makes it very shareable. It is easy to recommend something when you can say "it starts at eighty euros" — that is a concrete thing to tell someone, not "oh, they have consultations, I think they are affordable."

Closing

Interviewer If a friend asked you 'What is Everyday Living Interiors?', how would you describe it in one or two sentences?

Daan It is an interior design service based near Amsterdam that offers consultations starting at eighty euros. You send photos of your room, talk to the designer, and get a concrete plan with specific recommendations and links to products. It is designed for normal people, not magazine homes.

Interviewer On a scale of 1 to 10, how likely would you be to recommend this website to someone you know who is struggling with their home?

Daan Eight. The pricing visibility alone makes it recommendable. I would bump it to a nine if the site had a FAQ section addressing common hesitations and if more portfolio projects showed budgets and before-and-after images. The one thing holding it back from a ten is that the emotional content — the stuff that would make someone feel truly understood — is in the blog, not on the homepage.

Interviewer And for yourself — on a scale of 1 to 10, how likely are you to actually take action after seeing this website?

Daan Seven. Which, for me, is high. My baseline for any purchase decision is about a three, because I research everything into the ground. The reason it is a seven and not higher: I need a lower-commitment first step. The Room Reset at eighty euros is already accessible, but the contact form feels like a bigger step than it should. If I could send a WhatsApp message with a photo and a question — "is this something you can help with?" — that seven becomes a nine. The gap between seven and nine is not money. It is the feeling of formal commitment. Remove the formality, keep the professionalism, and I am booking this week.

Interviewer Is there anything we have not talked about that you would like to add?

Daan One thing. The website is clearly good. The design is strong, the pricing is transparent, the services are well-structured. But it is optimised for someone who already knows they want help. It does not quite reach the person who does not yet know that help exists at this price point, or who does not yet believe their situation qualifies. I was that person twenty minutes ago. The blog post is what moved me. But I would not have found the blog post. So the question is: how does the website reach the Daans of the world — the people who assumed this costs five thousand euros, who are embarrassed they cannot pick a rug, who need someone to say "your empty apartment is a perfectly fine starting point"? That message needs to be louder and closer to the front door.

Interviewer Thank you so much for your time and your honesty. Your feedback is genuinely valuable and will help shape how this service evolves. I really appreciate you sharing your perspective.

Daan Thank you. And honestly — I might actually look this up. Eighty euros. I have spent more than that on browser tabs.

Post-interview notes

Visual identity verdict: The editorial design quality worked strongly in Daan's favour. He evaluated the website through a professional lens and the polish signalled competence, which he values above all else. The editorial style did not intimidate him — it gave him confidence that this was a serious, well-run service. However, he noted a credibility gap between the premium visual presentation and the accessible pricing, describing it as "surprising" rather than suspicious. The design attracted him; the prices kept him.

Pricing-in-context reaction: The visible pricing was the single most impactful element for Daan. His anchoring bias — assuming all design services cost thousands — was shattered immediately. The combination of seeing prices in the service headings on a professionally designed website was more convincing than either element alone. He explicitly stated he would never have filled in a "request a quote" form. Transparent pricing aligned with his Dutch cultural expectation of directness and his professional preference for efficient communication.

Emotional displacement test: The blog post "I Don't Design For Magazines" produced a marked shift in Daan's engagement. Before hearing it, he was interested but evaluative. After hearing it, he was emotionally connected. He used the word "understood" — the homepage made him feel "welcome," the blog made him feel "understood." However, he stated clearly that he would not have found the blog naturally. This confirms the emotional displacement hypothesis: the strongest content for Daan's persona is in the place he is least likely to visit.

Dilution effect: Daan noticed the difference between the general "whenever you're ready" language and the specific emotional naming he responded to in the blog. He articulated the distinction precisely: the general version makes him feel welcome, the specific version makes him feel understood. He independently asked for more specificity — naming indecision, paralysis, embarrassment — without being prompted. This is strong evidence that the emotional acknowledgement section has been diluted below the threshold that would convert his persona.

The Thoughtful Edit gap: Daan independently identified and articulated the gap between eighty and two hundred fifty euros when prompted. He described wanting an in-person walkthrough — someone pointing at walls, making immediate spatial decisions — and said he would pay a hundred and fifty for it "immediately." However, he also noted he might skip the middle tier and go straight to The Design Roadmap because his core need is a plan. The gap exists for him psychologically even if he might jump over it financially.

Contact barrier: The standard contact form was a significant barrier for Daan. He described it as feeling "formal" and associated it with initiating a "Business Relationship" — language that reveals how high the perceived commitment feels. He identified WhatsApp and photo-based first contact as the specific mechanisms that would move him from saving the website to booking. His self-reported action likelihood jumped from seven to nine with this single change. For a persona defined by commitment paralysis, the contact mechanism is a critical conversion lever.

Action scores: Recommendation likelihood: 8/10. Personal action likelihood: 7/10. Both scores are meaningfully high for a persona whose baseline decision-making tendency is extreme caution. The gap between recommendation (8) and personal action (7) reflects his pattern: he can see the value objectively but still struggles with the commitment step subjectively.

Unexpected findings: Daan's framing of the website as "optimised for someone who already knows they want help" was an unprompted strategic insight. He identified a targeting gap: the site speaks well to people who have already decided to seek design help, but does not yet reach people who do not know help exists at this price point or who do not believe their situation qualifies. His closing comment — "how does the website reach the Daans of the world?" — is a segmentation observation, not just a usability note. He also made an interesting connection between Sara's corporate marketing background and his need for methodology and structure, suggesting the About page could lean harder into the process-oriented, strategic dimension of her background to appeal to analytical prospects.