Everyday Living Interiors

Ingrid Haugen

Round 3 interview · Live website evaluation
June 2026

Persona: Ingrid Haugen, 58, retired school librarian, Bergen, Norway
Date: 12 June 2026
Interviewer: Research interviewer (synthetic)
Format: One-on-one qualitative interview
Duration: Approximately 28 minutes

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 twenty-five to thirty minutes. Does that sound all right?
Ingrid Certainly. I should tell you upfront that I'm not someone who hires designers, so I may not be your ideal respondent. But I'm happy to give you my honest opinion.
Interviewer That's exactly what we're looking for. Honest perspective, whatever it is.

Section 1: Context setting

Interviewer 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.
Ingrid I live in a timber house in Bergen with my husband Geir. Our children are grown and live elsewhere in Norway, so it's just the two of us now. The house is about a hundred and twenty square metres across two floors, with a garden. We've been there twenty-three years. I've decorated it entirely myself over that time — the kitchen was redone eight years ago, the bathroom before that, and I repaint when things need freshening up. I suppose you could say it's my ongoing project, and I'm rather proud of how it's turned out.
Interviewer When you walk through your front door at the end of the day, what's the first thing you notice?
Ingrid The bookshelves, probably. They're in the entrance hallway and I arrange them seasonally — different objects, different books facing outward. It sets the tone for the rest of the house. I notice light, too. Bergen is dark for much of the year, so I've been very deliberate about lighting. Warm lamps, the right positioning. It makes an enormous difference.
Interviewer How much time and energy do you typically spend thinking about how your home looks or feels?
Ingrid Quite a lot, actually, but it doesn't feel like effort. It's more like maintenance of something I care about. I rearrange the bookshelves seasonally, I move things around, I notice when something isn't working. I read Bo Bedre and Rum regularly. I visit design shops when we travel to Copenhagen or Stockholm. It's a genuine interest, not a chore.
Interviewer Have you ever considered getting help with your home — from a designer, a service, a friend with good taste?
Ingrid No. I haven't needed to. I don't say that to be arrogant — well, perhaps a little — but I've developed my eye over decades. I know what works in my house. I mix Hay and Muuto with IKEA basics and vintage Norwegian pieces, and I think the result is better than what most designers produce for a catalogue. When I hear the words "interior designer," I think of two things: very expensive firms that do show flats, and people on Instagram who move cushions around and call it a profession. Neither appeals to me.
Interviewer So you wouldn't say interior design services are something available to people in your situation?
Ingrid They're available. They're just unnecessary. For my situation, I mean. I can see how someone who genuinely has no idea where to start might benefit. But I think people underestimate their own ability. Most homes would improve dramatically if the person living there simply paid attention and edited.

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 at eighty euros. A virtual consultation where you send photos, meet online for sixty to ninety minutes, and receive a written follow-up with layout suggestions, colour guidance, and product recommendations.

The Design Roadmap from two hundred and 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 and 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.

[Pause — twelve seconds]

Ingrid Hmm.

Section 3: First impressions and visual identity

Interviewer What's your first, honest reaction?
Ingrid It's better than I expected. I'll give her that. The typography choice is interesting — a large serif stacked like that is a deliberate move. It says she takes design seriously, which is more than I can say for most small businesses with a Canva logo and pastel colours. The photography sounds genuine, which matters. If these are real homes and not stock images, that's good. The tagline — "Your Home Should Support Your Life, Not Compete With It" — is well written. It's the kind of thing I might say myself.
Interviewer What stood out to you most — positively or negatively?
Ingrid Positively, the visual confidence. She's made a real identity decision. The black and white, the editorial feel — that takes courage for a small business. Most people would default to something safer and blander. Negatively — or not negatively, but it raises a question — the confidence of the design doesn't quite match the positioning. She's saying this is accessible and practical, but the website looks like a design magazine. Those two things can coexist, but it requires very careful calibration. I'd want to see whether the portfolio supports the claim or contradicts it.
Interviewer Does the design quality make you trust her more or question whether this is a real small business?
Ingrid Both, simultaneously. The quality makes me think she has genuine design competence — that she isn't someone who took a weekend course and bought a domain name. But it also makes me wonder whether the accessible pricing is sustainable, or whether she's undercharging because she's new and will raise her prices once she has a client base. A website that looks this polished with prices starting at eighty euros — that's an unusual combination. Either she's very clever about value positioning, or she hasn't figured out what her work is worth yet.
Interviewer How does the visual style make you feel about the service? Does it make you feel like this is a premium service? An accessible one?
Ingrid It reads as aspirationally accessible. The design says premium, the prices say approachable. For someone like me, that tension is interesting rather than off-putting. For someone who is already anxious about whether they can afford a designer, I think the website might actually intimidate them before they scroll down to the prices. The editorial quality could work against her with the very audience she's trying to reach.
Interviewer Based on what you've heard, who do you think this service is designed for?
Ingrid Young professionals or couples who have moved into a new flat and don't know where to start. People in the Amsterdam area who have some disposable income but not enough for a traditional designer. Perhaps expats — the Lisbon-to-Amsterdam story suggests she understands being between cultures. I'd say women in their late twenties to early forties, mostly. People who care about how their home looks but lack confidence or time.
Interviewer Do you see yourself as that person?
Ingrid No. And I'm comfortable with that. This isn't for me — not because it's beneath me, but because I've already done the work she's offering to help with. I've spent thirty years developing the skills she's selling. That said, I can see my niece booking the Room Reset. She just moved to Oslo and her flat looks like a storage unit with a bed.

Section 4: Pricing and services

Interviewer The three services are: The Room Reset at eighty euros, The Design Roadmap from two hundred and fifty, and The Living Space Plan from five hundred and forty per room. Can you tell me in your own words what each one involves?
Ingrid The Room Reset is a virtual consultation — you show her your room, she tells you what to change, and she follows up with a written document. It's essentially professional advice for a flat fee. The Design Roadmap is a full plan you implement yourself — she does the thinking, you do the doing. Paint colours, furniture suggestions, a shopping list. The Living Space Plan is the full service where she manages everything from concept to completion.
Interviewer Which would be most relevant to your situation?
Ingrid If I were going to use any of them — hypothetically — it would be the Room Reset. Not because I need direction, but because I'm curious what a fresh pair of trained eyes would say about my space. After twenty-three years, I've developed blind spots. Everyone does. But I'd approach it as a second opinion, not as guidance. There's a difference.
Interviewer That's an interesting distinction. What's your reaction to the prices?
Ingrid They're low. Deliberately low, I think. Eighty euros for a ninety-minute consultation with a written follow-up is very affordable — almost suspiciously so. A hairdresser in Bergen charges nearly that. Two hundred and fifty for a complete design plan with a moodboard, floor plan, and shopping list — that's remarkable value if the quality is good. Five hundred and forty per room for full service is extremely competitive. Before you told me about this, if someone had said "interior designer," I'd have assumed the conversation starts at two thousand euros minimum.
Interviewer Do the low prices undermine the professional visual identity? You mentioned the website looks like a design magazine.
Ingrid That's the right question. For me, no — I understand that a business can have good design and accessible prices, especially when someone is building a client base. But I can imagine someone less confident thinking: if the website looks this good, surely the service can't really cost eighty euros? There must be a catch. The professionalism of the presentation and the affordability of the pricing create a cognitive gap that she would need to address explicitly. Perhaps with testimonials. "I paid eighty euros and this is what I got" — that would close the gap.
Interviewer Does having prices visible on the website, right in the heading of each service page, affect your trust?
Ingrid Enormously. Transparent pricing is a sign of confidence and respect for the visitor's time. Most design firms hide their prices behind a "request a quote" wall, which I've always interpreted as either embarrassment or a sales tactic. Showing the price in the heading says: this is what it costs, take it or leave it. I respect that.
Interviewer There's a gap between eighty euros for a virtual consultation and two hundred and fifty for a full design plan. Is there anything you'd want in between?
Ingrid I wondered about that, actually. The jump is significant. For someone who tried the Room Reset and liked the experience but isn't ready for a full plan — there's no obvious next step. If she offered something in between — say, a hundred and fifty euros for her to come to your home and restyle a room using what you already have, no new purchases — that would be a very appealing middle option. It would also demonstrate skill more convincingly than a virtual session. Anyone can suggest products from a screen. Rearranging what someone already owns — that requires real understanding of space and proportion.

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?
Ingrid It's inoffensive. Warm. A bit generic, if I'm honest. It's the kind of thing that doesn't alienate anyone but doesn't particularly grab anyone either. It's a safe invitation. For someone who's already hesitant about hiring a designer, I'm not sure it's specific enough to make them feel seen. "Where you are" — where is that? What does that mean? If she means "even if your home is a mess" or "even if you've never thought about design before," she should say so. Vagueness can feel like politeness, but it can also feel like a lack of conviction.
Interviewer What if it said something more specific — like naming people who feel stuck, or embarrassed about their home?
Ingrid That would be braver and more effective. If you're trying to reach someone who feels their home disqualifies them from working with a designer, you have to name that feeling. "You don't need a perfect starting point" is more powerful than "wherever you are." Specificity earns trust. Generality earns a scroll.
Interviewer There's an About page where Sara introduces herself. She shares that she came from corporate marketing, that she's always been passionate about design, and that she started by helping friends and friends of friends before launching officially. She says she believes homes don't need to look like a magazine — they need to work for you. How does that land?
Ingrid Mixed. The corporate-to-design transition is becoming a very common story, and I'm slightly suspicious of it by now. Everyone seems to leave corporate life to follow their passion. That said, the marketing background could be a genuine asset — she understands communication, positioning, how to present things clearly. The fact that she started with friends and grew organically is more convincing to me than formal credentials, honestly. It means real people trusted her with their homes before she had a website.
Interviewer Does knowing her background make you more or less likely to trust her?
Ingrid Slightly more, but with reservations. I'd want to see evidence of her design training — she mentions a background in design, but how formal? And I'd want to see enough portfolio work to judge whether her taste is genuinely good or merely contemporary. Following trends is not the same as understanding design.
Interviewer Now, the website also has a blog with two posts. Let me tell you about one in particular. It's 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's 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?
Ingrid [Pause] That's significantly better than anything else you've described. The pantry line — "I'll give you back your Tuesday mornings" — that's specific, vivid, and it communicates something a designer rarely says: I care about your daily irritation, not your Instagram grid. The grandfather's cabinet and the IKEA shelf — that's real. That's what every home actually looks like. Inherited pieces and cheap functional pieces coexisting uncomfortably. If she can genuinely make those work together, that's real skill.
Interviewer Hearing that blog post — does it change how you feel about the service compared to what you saw on the main website?
Ingrid Yes, it does. Quite a lot, actually. The main website is competent and professional, but this blog post is where her personality and philosophy come through with real force. The homepage says the right things in a polished way. The blog post says brave things in a human way. It's the difference between a well-designed brochure and a conversation with someone who actually cares.
Interviewer If that blog content were on the homepage instead of in a blog post, would it change your experience of the site?
Ingrid Dramatically. If I landed on the homepage and the first thing I read — after the tagline — was something like "Give me your grandfather's cabinet and your partner's IKEA shelf and I'll make them get along," I would immediately think: this person understands real homes. That line does more work than any number of beautiful photographs. It names a universal reality and promises to address it. Moving that to the homepage would change the entire emotional temperature of the site.
Interviewer Would you have found this blog post naturally while browsing the site?
Ingrid Possibly. I'm the kind of person who reads everything. But most people are not. Most people skim the homepage, maybe look at one or two service pages, and leave. The blog is the last thing they'd visit. So the strongest piece of content on the entire site is in the place where fewest visitors will see it. That's a strategic error. Not a design error — a content placement error.

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?
Ingrid Before-and-after is essential for credibility. Anyone can photograph a beautiful finished room. The transformation is the proof. The beach house project sounds compelling because you can see what she started with — a dated, tired space — and what she made of it. That demonstrates skill in a way that an "after" photo alone cannot. The other projects, without the "before," are essentially just nice photographs. They tell me she has taste, but they don't tell me she can solve problems.
Interviewer How important are before-and-after comparisons to you?
Ingrid Very. As someone who evaluates design critically, I'm not impressed by a pretty result unless I know the starting point. A beautiful room in a beautiful building with an unlimited budget — that's competence but not necessarily ingenuity. A beautiful room created from a cluttered, dark, furnished-by-committee space on a tight budget — that's where real skill lives. She should show more starting points.
Interviewer None of the case studies show budgets. Does that matter?
Ingrid Yes, and it's a missed opportunity. If she's positioning herself as accessible and practical, showing the budget reinforces that message. "This living room was transformed for under three hundred euros." "This kitchen refresh used sixty percent existing pieces." Those numbers would be powerful, especially for people who assume design services are expensive. The absence of budgets is the same problem as the absence of "before" images — it makes the portfolio less persuasive than it could be.
Interviewer One smaller project — a living room refresh in Ghent — describes working on a budget: "a simple room refresh without spending much money or getting rid of the big pieces." The client received advice over a thirty-five-minute call and a shopping list within their budget. Does that specific example change how you perceive the service?
Ingrid Considerably. That project is the most convincing thing in the portfolio, because it mirrors the reality most people live in. Not a beach house renovation. Not a full apartment redesign. A single room, existing furniture, limited money, a short conversation, and a shopping list. If I were advising her, I'd make that project the first thing visitors see, not the last. It's proof that the eighty-euro service delivers real value.

Section 7: Barriers and action

Interviewer Imagine you've just finished browsing this website on your phone. What would you do next?
Ingrid I would save it. Not to book anything for myself, but because I know I'd want to recommend it to someone eventually. My niece in Oslo. A colleague's daughter who just bought a flat and has been complaining about it for months. I'd keep the link in my bookmarks.
Interviewer What about for yourself?
Ingrid I wouldn't book. Not because the service is bad — I think it's quite good — but because I genuinely don't believe I need it. I might browse the blog if she publishes more posts like "I Don't Design For Magazines." I could see myself following her on Instagram for the content, the way I follow other design accounts. But booking a consultation? No. My home is my domain, and I'm good at it.
Interviewer Is there anything the website could add or change that would move you from "save for others" to "consider for myself"?
Ingrid A service explicitly positioned as a peer review for capable self-decorators. Something like "Already love your home? Get a designer's fresh perspective on what you might be missing." That would intrigue me. Not because I think I'm missing much — but because I'm intellectually curious, and the idea of a skilled second opinion after twenty-three years of doing it alone has a certain appeal. The current service descriptions all assume the visitor needs help. I don't need help. I might want perspective. There's a difference, and the website doesn't acknowledge it.
Interviewer The contact page has a standard form — name, email, subject, message. No option to send a photo, no WhatsApp, no way to ask a quick question without a full enquiry. Does that affect your likelihood of reaching out?
Ingrid For me personally, a standard form is fine. I'm comfortable writing an email. But for the audience she's trying to reach — people who are already hesitant — a form is a barrier. It requires you to compose a message, which means you have to know what to say, which means you have to have already decided you want the service. That's asking for commitment before she's earned it. A simpler option — send a photo and ask a quick question, no obligation — would lower the threshold significantly. I see this from a practical standpoint, not personal need.
Interviewer The site doesn't have a FAQ section. If you had questions like "Is it okay if my home is a mess?" or "Do you work outside Amsterdam?" — where would you look for answers?
Ingrid I'd probably look at the About page or the individual service pages. If the answers weren't there, I'd assume the information was missing and either contact her or move on. A FAQ is a sign of maturity in a service business — it shows you've thought about what your clients worry about. Its absence suggests the business is still young, which isn't damning, but it's noticeable.
Interviewer Would you share this website with someone else?
Ingrid Yes. And this is actually the most useful thing I can offer you: even though I wouldn't use the service myself, I would recommend it to others. The website is professional enough to reflect well on me for sharing it. The prices are reasonable enough that I wouldn't be recommending something unaffordable. And the blog post gave me confidence that there's a real person behind it with genuine convictions about design. I'd share it with my niece, and I'd share it with a friend in Bergen who has been agonising over her living room for two years. I'd say: "This woman in Amsterdam does online consultations for eighty euros. Look at her blog first."

Closing

Interviewer If a friend asked you "What is Everyday Living Interiors?", how would you describe it in one or two sentences?
Ingrid It's a small, well-presented interior design service based near Amsterdam, run by a Portuguese woman with a background in marketing and a genuine eye for real homes. She offers everything from an eighty-euro virtual consultation to full room design, and she's more interested in making your actual home work than in creating something for a magazine.
Interviewer On a scale of one to ten, how likely would you be to recommend this website to someone you know who's struggling with their home?
Ingrid Seven. It would be higher if the portfolio showed more before-and-after work and if the blog content were more prominent. The quality is there. The proof is almost there. Give it six more months of portfolio work and move that blog post to the homepage, and it's a nine.
Interviewer What would move that number up?
Ingrid More evidence. More transformations. Testimonials from real clients. And that blog content front and centre, not buried.
Interviewer And for yourself — on a scale of one to ten, how likely are you to actually take action after seeing this website?
Ingrid Two. I'll follow her on Instagram. I might read her blog. But I won't book. The service isn't designed for someone who already has a home they love. If she created a "designer's second opinion" tier — a short, focused session for people who are capable but curious — I'd be a four. Maybe a five.
Interviewer Is there anything we haven't talked about that you'd like to add?
Ingrid One thing. The name — Everyday Living Interiors — is good. It manages to be warm without being saccharine, and it communicates the philosophy clearly. "Everyday" is doing a lot of work in that name. It sets expectations correctly. And the "by Sara de Abreu" underneath — using her real name — that matters. It says this is a person, not a brand. I appreciate that.

And one more thing: the "From Lisbon / Based in Amsterdam" line in the footer. That's a small detail that carries weight. It tells you she's not from here originally, which means she understands what it's like to create a home somewhere new. For the expat population in the Netherlands, that's a powerful signal. She should use it more.
Interviewer Thank you so much for your time and your honesty. Your feedback is genuinely valuable and will help shape how this service evolves.
Ingrid You're welcome. Tell her the blog post is excellent and she's hiding it in the wrong place. That's the most useful thing I can say.

Post-interview notes

Visual identity verdict: The editorial design quality earned Ingrid's respect — she specifically praised the typography, the black-and-white confidence, and the departure from "Canva and pastels." However, she identified the tension between editorial polish and accessible pricing as a cognitive gap that less confident visitors might find alienating. For Ingrid, this tension was intellectually interesting; for ELI's core audience, it could be a barrier.

Pricing-in-context reaction: Ingrid found the prices "deliberately low" and "almost suspiciously so," but from a position of informed evaluation rather than distrust. She flagged the absence of testimonials as the missing bridge between professional presentation and affordable pricing. Key quote: "If the website looks this good, surely the service can't really cost eighty euros? There must be a catch."

Emotional displacement test: The blog post "I Don't Design For Magazines" produced the single strongest positive reaction in the interview. Ingrid called it "significantly better than anything else" and said it would "change the entire emotional temperature of the site" if placed on the homepage. She identified the content placement as a "strategic error" — the strongest content in the least-visited location.

Dilution effect: Ingrid called the "Whenever you're ready" line "inoffensive" and "a bit generic" — noting it lacked the specificity to make hesitant visitors feel seen. She explicitly recommended naming specific situations rather than offering vague warmth. She drew the distinction: "Specificity earns trust. Generality earns a scroll."

Portfolio proof: Ingrid evaluated the portfolio through a critical, comparative lens. Before-and-after images were "essential for credibility." The absence of budgets was "a missed opportunity." The Ghent project was the most convincing element because it mirrored ordinary reality. She recommended making it the first portfolio piece visitors see.

Thoughtful Edit gap: Ingrid noticed and named the gap between eighty and two hundred and fifty euros unprompted, calling it "significant" and describing an in-home restyling service almost exactly matching the dropped Thoughtful Edit concept.

Contact barrier: While the standard form was acceptable for Ingrid personally, she evaluated it empathetically for the target audience, identifying that it "requires commitment before she's earned it." She recommended a lower-barrier option.

Referral willingness vs. personal use: The most significant finding — Ingrid rates herself a 2/10 for personal action but 7/10 for referral. She would share the website with her niece, a friend, and potentially others. Her referral framing is notable: "Look at her blog first." This confirms the gatekeeper dynamic described in the persona profile.

Unexpected findings:

Action scores: Recommend 7/10, personal action 2/10. The gap (5 points) is the largest of any persona and confirms Ingrid's role as gatekeeper rather than client. Her recommendations carry social weight in her network, making her a high-value referral source despite being a non-buyer.

Everyday Living Interiors · Round 3 Interview · June 2026