Be excellent to each other, and party on dudes.
–BILL AND TED’S EXCELLENT ADVENTURE
Leanne
Today, we’re taking Mom and Michelle over to Steve’s place for the big reveal. We’ve come a long way from where we started. This space, all 1,800 square feet, was a blank slate. Actually, pretty much worse than a blank slate. There were blown-out metal factory windows that Steve called the “open air concept.” No walls, no kitchen, no plumbing—literally just a bed in the middle of a raw space with a TV set screwed into the concrete wall. Let’s just say my brother doesn’t need much! But I really wanted to make him a home. He wanted a place where Mom could come and visit and she wouldn’t be afraid to sit down. And I wanted to create a space for Steve that was beautiful, that he could live in.
Actually, Steve had more demands than I thought, one of which was a steam shower. Fancy.
Steve
It’s not the first time Leanne’s designed a space for me.
Leanne designed an apartment for me years ago. I wanted a leather couch so badly. I told her, “If I can get this couch, I’ll let you design the apartment.” So she made the design around the couch. It was awesome. And I can’t wait for this design to be revealed. I’m lucky I have her as my designer.
And for the record, I have an eye too.
Leanne
It was a great place after we were done with it! We painted the old floors and the very high ceilings black to match the black trim on the beautiful windows. We found vintage furniture to work with his new leather chesterfield sofa, including some of Grandma and Grandpa’s old lights and furniture and a couple of gray Eames shell chairs. Steve made his own massive farm table that took up half of the space—in the best possible way—and was flanked by five-dollar bucket chairs. We took off the old upper kitchen cabinets and replaced them with a couple of crates that worked as shelves. We pitched the beat-up counters and replaced them with new inexpensive butcher block.
Steve
She and Mom did a proper TV-style reveal for me, even way back then. I was so happy!
Leanne
He even did his signature happy dance, which only comes out on special occasions. (It’s mainly just some bopping around with a smile on his face, with an occasional wiggling.)
I love working with my brother—most of the time. There are, of course, ups and downs.
Steve
Not too many, though. If Leanne and I have a tiff, it’ll last five minutes for me and then it’s done—until it comes up again. I don’t dwell on anything. I feel upset for a minute, and then it fades away. Let’s move on. No hard feelings.
Leanne
Generally (except for when I’m pretty much crying), I feel the same way. Really, I’m so proud of us, Steve and me. We made it all the way to this point. Yes, we took our own individual paths, but now we’re cruising on this journey together. It’s very special, and we’ve both sacrificed a lot to make this happen. It does seem a lot like the way we’d play as kids. (He’d build the forts; I’d decorate ’em.) But it takes a tremendous amount of work to make this mutually beneficial.
It’s not always so smooth. We’re fighting against a couple of things here—a high-pressure situation, budgets, timelines—but birth order too! Steve’s a middle child, yes, but he’s the only boy, which means he’s Mom’s favorite. (Amiright?) And you could say he likes to be in control of situations, which is not easy because he has me for his sister. Being the youngest, I’m definitely what you might call free-spirited. We’ve got some big personalities here.
“It’s not easy working with a sibling,” Michelle, our older sister, said to me one day. “There are things that you would say to a sibling that you would never say to a friend or a colleague. You know each other almost too well.” She’s right.
Here are some strategies that have worked for us.
1. KEEP YOUR MONEY SEPARATE
The hardest part of working together—I know I’ve said this before, and I’ll say it again—is the budget. It’s what we argue most about: money.
Family businesses, despite being the backbone of this country, are notorious for ending in knock-down, drag-out fights over money. Steve and I didn’t want that. When you’re involved in such a big project like this—working on a television show with your older brother—you have to really think things through early.
Steve and I don’t work like your average family business. He has Steve Ford Construction. I have Leanne Ford Interiors. We are separate entities, separate businesses entirely. We keep our money separate as much as humanly possible. So, we’ll go into a job, and everything is signed separately. (Have I hammered home separate enough for you yet?)
But when we’re working on the show together and we’re working on these budgets, we’re intertwined. Sometimes I’ll say, “Well, we need more money for lighting, because three hundred dollars for twelve lights isn’t going to cut it.”
During season 1, we fought twice. Both times were about where the money should be spent. Only two times is pretty good stats, if you ask me! The problem was, of course, they got it all on camera. Thankfully, they edited it well, so it didn’t feel as heated as it was in person. I remember those arguments well, and Steve was driving me crazy. But to everyone watching on TV, it was comedy.
Steve
Look: in the end we’re fine. We’re always fine. We’re family, and she’s my little sister.
2. TRUST EACH OTHER
At the end of the day, if I do what Leanne asks, I know it’s going to be beautiful. Why? Because I trust her.
I might seem grumpy when we’re shooting, but that’s my process. I’m worried about the budget, if everything is going to happen on time. People are calling me, asking questions nonstop. So there’s a lot happening behind the scenes that you don’t see. Sometimes it takes me a long time to figure out how we’re going to make it as beautiful as Leanne wants it to be.
Leanne
He trusts my design work, and I completely trust his carpentry work. Trust is a huge part of any business relationship. You can’t have one person who is pulling more weight than the other. It just doesn’t work out that way. You start to feel resentful and angry. Steve and I have a very similar work ethic. We both go full speed ahead until the work is done the right way.
The good news is that Steve always figures it out. He really does. In fact, his worst decision was figuring out how to help renovate my schoolhouse. The reason Steve worked on that job—and all the other jobs following that one—was because he was the one who figured it out.
3. CREATE BOUNDARIES
This is probably the hardest thing to do when you’re working with a sibling, but you have to be able to create boundaries. (Actually, that’s true in any relationship, but that’s for another time.) When you work with siblings, you know what makes them tick. They know how to push your buttons. Sometimes, you get back into those old habits of being a kid, like if you were fighting over Monopoly.
Though you might want the environment to be superpersonal and easygoing, the best possible scenario is if you handle the job site and the people around you in the most professional way you can. Yes, of course you can make jokes, but at the end of the day, it’s a job, and you’re putting everything you have into it. You want to be serious, even though it’s your sibling that you’re working with. Steve and I joke around all the time on the show—you can see us ribbing each other a lot, actually—but then we’re back to getting the work done.
Steve
Physical boundaries are important too. Like, say, you have a sister—hint, hint—who collects a lot of stuff. Hint, hint. And she wants to store all of her stuff in your new shop. Hint, hint.
I wanted to be a nice brother, so I told Leanne that she could have a space to store her stuff in the shop for the show. My first floor is 2,500 square feet; I could spare some room for her. But you have to understand: Leanne has amassed a collection over the years. She has tables and upholstered chairs, stools and couches and silverware and glasses.
I started out giving her about 200 square feet. I figured that would be enough room. But Leanne showed up here with two semi trucks full of furniture!
“Where are you going to put all of this stuff?” I said, watching it pile up in my shop.
Now there are aisles of her things, like a storage room with shelving. It’s like a store in here.
I know Leanne. I knew what was going to happen—she was going to take over my space.
So I put up a Sheetrock wall. Yes I did. Boundaries, people!
The next time she came, I said, “You can’t go past this wall.”
And you know what? She respected that. (But if she needed more space, I’d give it to her—for a fee.)
Leanne
4. ALLOW IDEAS TO EVOLVE
I don’t have a formula for design. I treat design like art. I look at a house or a room and I think, How can I look at this differently? What can I save that already exists here?
A house is a canvas to me. I always look for a different perspective; I am looking at the pyramid instead of just the triangle. My process is constantly evolving, and I’ve allowed myself to build that process and rely on it for years and years. In fact, when you let go of your original vision and let things evolve—well, that’s when the good stuff happens.
Steve is more orderly than I am, probably, and maybe less open to the process of evolving. I think that’s just the nature of how his mind works. He can be creative, and I know he appreciates creativity, but he’s more mechanical.
Steve
For me, order is like a reset. I like to make a huge mess and then clean up the job site before we move on. Install, clean up, reset. I think I look at design jobs the same way. I want to do the job and then end the job, but most jobs don’t work out that way.
Often I’ll think, How on earth are we going to do this? My first reaction is to really resist the process. But what I need to work on is letting the idea simmer, letting it digest. Usually I’ll come back to Leanne the next day, sometimes with my own ideas, and say, “Hey, you were right.”
I have to be better at opening myself up to the process more. Sometimes the process isn’t so black-and-white.
Leanne
And I get it! It’s hard when you have a crew trying to hang on for dear life. It’s also hard when you’re doing fifteen homes at the same time. That’s been my struggle. I don’t have a design formula so that my design team can sweep in and say, “Leanne likes these five methods.” Each design is custom to the clients and to their home. I give my grand plans for design, but after we demo, it naturally evolves. I have to let myself work that way, and I need that creative process. New things come up all the time—some that are possible and some that are impossible. So my design has to evolve while the show is going and while the project is opening up. If you’re working with me—heaven help you—just hold on for dear life.
I know it frustrates Steve when I change the design midway, but half is out of necessity and half is because something better came along. I’d be doing the client a disservice not to be open to the evolution of the creation of a home.
Our plumber, Mike, always says to me, “What are you turning into a sink today, Leanne?” He’s the one who worked on my bathroom in the schoolhouse.
I always say to him, “Mike, aren’t you mad that you made that bathroom work out?” Because eight years later, he’s still working on crazy design projects with me. He rolls with the punches.
That’s an important point for family members and nonfamily members: be open to someone else’s process.
Our electrician, who isn’t a family member, is creative as well. He understands why we’re moving the light an inch to the right: because it looks better! He understands that it’s an art project. And if the person I hire doesn’t understand why I make the decisions I make (because it’s always for the good of the project), then they probably won’t last. Chances are, it means they don’t want to be there anyway.
Isn’t it better to allow a process to evolve, too, to really allow yourself to sit in it and mull over ideas instead of making snap decisions? Yes, of course, sometimes you need to do that, but they don’t call it the creative process for nothing. And there’s worth in that creative process—it’s when the good stuff happens. Don’t let anyone cut that off for you.
5. KNOW WHAT YOUR DIFFERENT SKILL SETS ARE
This should be an obvious one for us. Steve’s the carpenter; I’m the designer. We defer to each other when it comes to those positions. So if I bring home a giant arch, and I want Steve to hang it in a wall to make a doorway for a client . . .
Steve
Even if the wall is eight feet tall and the arch is ten feet tall . . .
Leanne
Then I know he’s going to make it work! Right, Steve? (Side note: I was right. That arch was perfect.)
Steve
Uh . . .
Leanne
See how easy that is?
Steve and I have also learned a great deal along the way about how to treat other people. Mom and Dad gave us a firm foundation in how to get around in the world, but sometimes people and situations get thrown at you where you have to think on your feet quite a bit. How we interact with other people is a big part of how we evolve into unique beings.
Last week, I was at a meet and greet for PPG paints at a store near my home. I went to this store not thinking many people would show up, but thank goodness, people were there. People of all ages, standing in line to see me! The show has given us so many new opportunities to meet people who really have responded to our style and our show. It’s so incredible to meet people who love our work and are inspired by it. It’s amazing how many people—complete strangers—want to connect with us. We do have design in common, so that helps.
I try to make sure that I make eye contact with every single person I speak with. I really do. Eye contact is a very powerful tool that humans have and that we often either don’t notice or don’t take advantage of.
I remember doing this as a camp counselor as well. Part of my job was reaching out to the campers and making sure they felt comfortable. I’d walk through camp and make sure to say hello to everyone I passed by: “Hi! How’s your day going?” It became something of a habit, reaching out and looking someone in the eye.
When I moved to New York City, I kept it up. I know that people think of New York City as a place where people are just whizzing by each other, but believe me: when you’re on city streets—whether there’s only one other person on the street or you’re in a crowded area—you want to have that connection. You want to know who’s around you—for safety reasons, yes, but also for connection. Eye contact is a small reminder that we are not alone in all of this.
If I was walking down a city street and made eye contact with someone, I would always smile. Sometimes I would even wave. Maybe even say, “How’s it going?” People are so shocked by it, but if you think about it, our instinct is to interact, not avoid. It’s nice to have human connection in the tiniest way.
My friends would all make fun of me: “You aren’t at summer camp anymore, girl.” But I thought, Who cares? This might be the only interaction these people feel today.
So I started doing this with everybody. I purposely looked for eye contact. Then, if I locked eyes with someone, I’d smile. And then they’d smile.
Steve
The show hasn’t gotten that big (yet?), but knowing that it might does scare me. Losing my anonymity—especially around here, because I’m such a hometown boy—is going to be hard for me. Also, I don’t exactly sink into the background. I’m a giant. I’m a foot taller in a crowd!
Just the other day at a coffee shop in Pittsburgh, a woman sitting next to me spoke to me. “Are you that guy from the HGTV decorating show?” Yes, that’s me.
I’m typically a pretty introverted guy, and usually people want to talk to Leanne. I keep it short because I can be shy. But I looked her in the eye, and you know what? We had a pretty good conversation.
Leanne
When I first signed up for the show, my biggest fear was losing my privacy. I was nervous to lose that right. My saving grace, mentally, is that thousands of people are on TV. We are only on television for literally a few hours, in the grand scheme of things. That’s it. And there are something like six hundred channels out there. There’s a ton of us—a lot of shows. Most people don’t recognize us outside of Pittsburgh. Here, we’re on our home turf, and Pittsburgh loves its own. But in LA and in New York, we’re just faces in the crowd.
I had this image of people stopping me in the airport. In the airport, I’m dirty, I’m tired, I’m hurrying—let’s just say I’m not at the top of my game. But for some reason, getting recognized at the airport happens a lot. Now, I just make sure I shower before I go. Novel idea, I know.
One time I was sitting on an airplane and had my sweatshirt on backward, so I could use my hood as a sort of sleeping mask. I had a big old spread of airplane food, and I was crying at whatever Nicholas Sparks movie was on my computer.
And the guy sitting next to me said, with a big smile on his face, “Are you Leanne Ford?” Eeek!
I spoke to a good friend about this recently. That I was worried about this privacy issue more now, knowing that season 2 was coming out. I didn’t want being recognized to somehow ruin how I feel about making eye contact with people. I was concerned that this kind of attention would be, in a way, overwhelming or intrusive.
“Actually, Leanne,” she said, “think about how much you love to make people feel good. This is an opportunity to connect with people. You used to say hi to people or smile at strangers all the time. Now you have this opportunity to do that more often with more people. You have a chance to make their day.”
I liked that concept. I heard that. I always think about that perspective now when someone approaches me. That’s a pretty darn fun ability to have! I know it feels good because I still get giggly when I think about my favorite personalities that I’ve met.
When I was in my early twenties, my friend looked at me and said, “You are so Annie Hall.” I had never heard of the movie Annie Hall, so I didn’t know what that meant. I rented it and realized as I was watching it, Oh my gosh, I am Annie Hall. She dressed like a boy (her choice, by the way, not the choice of the costume designer for the movie). She said “La-di-da.” Her face, the way she spoke, her voice, those hats—we were two peas in a pod, if I do say so myself. That woman, I thought, is my celebrity soul sister.
There really is no other celebrity that I relate to. I don’t look like any of them. I don’t act like any of them. I don’t dress like any of them. And all of a sudden, there was somebody in a movie—Diane Keaton—that I related to. Of course, it was from 1977, but what did I care? I thought, My goodness, we do kind of look alike. There are similarities.
Then people would start saying to me, “You look like Diane Keaton.” I just thought it was the best compliment ever. She’s got her own unique look, and I was totally fine with that. I never related to the girl with a bunch of makeup on. I love that my celebrity look-alike is around thirty years older than me!
Recently, I received an email that read: “You’re invited to a party for Diane Keaton’s new book, The House That Pinterest Built.”
Diane. Keaton.
I was thrilled. I sent the email to my sister and Erik, with the subject line “AHHHHHHHHHHH.”
What do I wear to meet Diane Keaton? Which hat? Which boots?
I dressed in my vintage-style suede high boots and my black limo driver hat, of course. It was a little Diane Keaton–esque.
I was legitimately nervous. Erik came with me to the party, and as soon as we walked in the door, the hostess throwing the party grabbed my hand and told me she was going to introduce me to Diane. They beelined us right over to her.
Again: Diane. Keaton.
“Hi, Diane! I’m Leanne. I’m so happy to meet you,” I said.
“Oh, you’re cute!” she said to me in her Diane Keaton way.
“Funny you should say that . . . because everybody seems to think I look like you.”
She loved that! She laughed and smiled, and then she turned to Erik.
“Oh, and you’re cute too!” she said to him. And then I swear to you, Diane Keaton started flirting with Erik. I was dying. It was too good.
“Okay, okay. Cool it, you two,” I said. “Break it up. Break it up.”
Someone started taking pictures of us. I turned to Diane, looked her in the eye. “Let’s look like we’re old friends,” I said.
“Perfect,” she said. “Let’s just giggle.”
Then Diane Keaton got pulled away. I was as happy as a clam. It’s now a year later, and I’m still on cloud nine from the experience. A four-minute experience! But meeting her in person had made an impression. It made my day.
If being on this television show has taught me anything, it’s that people are looking for connection to each other.
Look ’em in the eye!
WORKING ON PROGRESS
What if you used eye contact in your everyday life? What if you made eye contact with strangers-just because?
Instead of walking into the grocery store and zipping out-what if you looked up at someone in the aisle? What if you asked the clerk how her day is going? What if the two of you made a simple human connection that might really affect her, and you in return? What if that simple eye contact led to a smile? It would give you a positive pause from all the chaos in everyday life, and it takes only three seconds.