Our Story

Why Dezainteria Exists

For years, I worked as an interior designer inside a company. I was the one clients came to. I learned their taste, earned their trust, designed every detail — the layouts, the materials, the woodwork, the finishes. Every choice was made together with them.

Alongside that, I did freelance work. And in those projects, I had full control — from the first sketch to the final screw. My clients were happy. So happy, they referred others to me. Those referrals came to me through the company I worked for — which meant they became company clients, and the company's system applied to them.

That's where things fell apart. Delays. Materials that didn't show up. Workmanship that didn't match what we'd agreed. And then the calls would come — from people who had trusted me personally, who had been sent to me by someone they trusted. "We came because of you. We trusted you. What happened?"

I had no honest answer. Because the truth was: I had no control over what happened after I handed the design over. My responsibility — as far as the business was concerned — ended at the drawing. But it didn't end there for me.

I believe the relationship between a designer and a client is like the relationship between a doctor and a patient. If you don't feel safe — if you don't trust completely — the result will always fall short, no matter how good the design looks on paper.

Those clients didn't just lose a good project. They lost what they were promised. And I was the one they had trusted. That was the breaking point.

I built Dezainteria so that would never happen again. Here, I go from A to Z with every client — design, materials, execution, workers, site visits, every small detail. The promise I make at the beginning is the same promise that gets delivered at the end.

I already knew how a site worked.

That's what made staying in the office so hard. I'd been on sites. I knew what happened there — how materials behaved in real light, how workers interpreted drawings, where the gap between design and execution quietly opened up. I'd seen it firsthand.

But not every company lets their interior designers go to site. Some keep them at the office — managing clients, running presentations, bringing in the next project. The site is someone else's job.

I understood the logic. I just couldn't accept it.

Because once you've stood in a space and watched it being built, you can't pretend that what happens on paper is enough. The design doesn't end at the drawing. It ends when the last detail is placed exactly where it belongs.

When Rola and I started talking, we realized we were coming from the same frustration — just from different angles. She'd seen what happens when the client loses trust. I'd seen what happens when the designer loses control of the process. Both lead to the same place: a project that doesn't deliver what it promised.

So we built something where neither of us has to walk away halfway through.