9

I Want My HGTV

My advice, Daisy, is to go as far in life as God and luck allow.

–MRS. HUGHES, DOWNTON ABBEY

Leanne

We have a TV show right now. Forgive me if what I am about to say sounds messed up, but . . . so then what? Fame is fickle; glory is fleeting. But talent and drive are yours to keep. And what you add to the universe will stay here in some way. Your creative life, your love, how you treat your family—those things stick. Your job might go away, your relationship might go away, but your inherent talent isn’t going away. Even when you yourself do go away, make sure you leave something here for those behind you. Inspire people around you to live fuller, more joyfully, more fearlessly. Inspire others to create without boundaries or concern of success, to love without worry about tomorrow. Work hard today. Love hard today.

I had never intended to be in front of the camera. I had always been a really shy kid, actually. My sister, Michelle, would say that I never spoke to anyone except for Mom.

“Half the time she was on Mom’s leg,” Michelle says. “Not scared, but definitely not interested in talking to anyone.”

When we had babysitters, apparently, I’d stand in the corner, crying because Mom was gone.

When I would go all quiet, my grandma would say, “Leanne’s thinking.” I guess I was saving it up, because I grew out of that, to say the least. I’m certainly not shy now. And I’m strangely fine being in front of a camera. (That doesn’t mean I have to watch it, though!)

The schoolhouse, the Sabika office, and Kelly’s home were the only interior design projects I had done, but it was a really exciting time for me. Working on my own house was really thrilling. That blog I wrote never went anywhere. (I never even meant for it to; it was mainly for our family.) But turns out that little blog had two very important readers: Natalie Warady of Country Living, and Peter Barbee.

Peter, who has a band, Among Savages (an awesome band, by the way), had a friend, Lindsey Weidhorn, who was looking for new talent for HGTV. Specifically, they were scouting for a cute couple who liked to fix up homes together for a brand-new show.

Peter told his friend at HGTV all about what we were doing at the schoolhouse; he also told his friend about me and my first husband. But my first husband wasn’t interested, so we didn’t pursue it. I don’t actually know if HGTV said no to us or we said no to them in this round; there’s plenty of no in this story, so you’ll understand why I can’t remember. After some Skyping and such, we parted ways amicably and respectfully.

But we didn’t part ways before I told the network, “Just FYI. I do a lot of work with my brother. Let me know if that’s ever of interest to you.”

And that was that. The HGTV talk just went away.

I was totally fine and happy to carry on my way. I had just started my design career, and I needed more time to know what I was doing, to hone my craft. Those years between that first discussion and actually being on TV really allowed me to sink deeper into becoming a designer. It allowed me to build a reputation in my field.

I am thankful to have come into the world of HGTV with an established career as an interior designer. I consider myself an interior designer first and foremost; I don’t consider myself a TV personality. TV is secondary to what I do creatively, to my true passion of design. And when the show goes away, I will still be out here making something or other somewhere or other.

In fact, I don’t think I even told Steve that I ever mentioned his name. I don’t think I told him about it at all. It was so off-the-cuff, a quick sentence in an email, and off I went about my business.

Steve

Nope! I had no idea.

Leanne

I guess I didn’t tell you because it felt like too much of a pipe dream. A show on HGTV? How far off in the stars is that concept?

Having a TV show is not anything that I could have even locked my mind onto. It wasn’t anything that I could even visualize. It felt very far away. To this day I still marvel and sometimes say out loud, “We have a TV show?”

About a year later, in 2014, I got a call from HGTV, and they wanted to speak to me again. They wanted to film what’s called in the television world a “sizzle.” A sizzle is about a three- to five-minute, fast-paced video that gives an idea of what the show is going to be about. It’s a pretty standard video so that the producers at HGTV can get a feel for who the talent is and what the premise of the show would be.

At that point, I was renovating a Pittsburgh farmhouse, so I thought it would be the perfect spot to film. The house was built in 1940. I added wide wood boards to all the ceilings, leaving cracks between the boards so the lights we installed behind them would glow through the cracks. We added wood to the walls and painted them white. The walls I didn’t paint got ripped out. I used beautiful antique and brass touches that I found in Mexico and Paris. I brought in Moroccan rugs and lights to play off of the industrial warehouse lights I had found around Pittsburgh. I used an old Hobie sail as a shower curtain (an ode to my days as camp counselor). The master bathroom doors were old Craigslist finds that I had held on to for years, just waiting for the right project. I designed and built the bathroom and walls around those $200 doors.

In the guest bathroom, I used an old tub that had come from a friend’s house. I commissioned a magical spiral-style raw wood staircase from our buddy Ed Zeiler, replacing the drop-down stairs from the attic. That staircase renovation allowed us to create an entirely new space to live in. I exposed the rafters in the attic and painted everything white. Goodbye, attic. Hellllllo, dream office.

“My brother’s helping me renovate my farmhouse,” I told the HGTV producer. “Maybe you can come film us working on that?” They loved that idea.

It was winter, and I had my big fur coat on. I also wore oversized round sunglasses, which I still wear, by the way. One might say that I looked like a cross between Diane Keaton and the ninety-seven-year-old fashion icon Iris Apfel. Which might not have been the look HGTV was going for. Oh! And my hair was rock ’n’ roll blonde. Maybe I was a little too quirky for them.

Soon after, I got an email from Katie Neff, a producer who had helped develop Fixer Upper. “Unfortunately, the consensus is that you’re too ‘hip, fabulous and cool’ for HGTV,” she wrote in the email.

Too cool? Not something I am often accused of, really. Was it the glasses?

HGTV wasn’t interested in a show around me, my farmhouse, my scrappy brother, and my big sunglasses.

“All good, Katie,” I wrote back. “Thank you so much for letting me know. If you’re going to get denied, at least it’s for being too cool. Listen, I’m here. Call me when you’re ready.”

I remember thinking, I’m not going anywhere. And my style isn’t that crazy! Your viewers will catch up. There are a lot of us—people who like neutrals. People who like to wear . . . interesting outfits.

I knew that I personally wanted to see more people with my aesthetic on television. People who like black houses and white walls.

We are out here. And we love looking at design!

I left the window open, but I closed the door on that chapter, thinking, Well, HGTV is just not in the cards. And you know what? That was fine. That the idea of an HGTV show was even a glimmer of a glimmer of a glimmer of a possibility was wild. An absolute thrill.

With that sweet but simple email, I closed my computer and went back to . . . oh, I don’t know—painting something, I’m sure.

It was a time for new beginnings. By that time my first husband and I had sadly but lovingly parted ways, and I threw myself into my passion for design. It restored me; it was where I found so much joy. I built up my portfolio. I took on clients and created fresh, new aesthetics for their homes. More and more press opportunities and requests started coming in. That was amazing—it was so good for my career. I really needed that time, I realized. I had become known to some of my favorite editors and magazines and in certain small design circles. If HGTV had worked out earlier, I might not have known who I really was as a designer. I didn’t want to be a TV personality who was learning the ropes about the design world. I wanted to be an experienced designer who happened to have a TV show.

I wasn’t in any way banking on, planning on, or pining over a television show for myself.

That’s when the production company with HGTV emailed us. Again. For the third time!

They came back to me and pretty much said, “Well, it’s not dead yet!” They kept reviving and evolving that original pitch video. Unbeknownst to me, they’d mention our names, pitch us again, and then get shut down. Then the cycle would start all over again. Someone would say, “What about Leanne Ford?” God bless whoever that person was! They just kept bringing it back and championing us, which I appreciate so much.

Finally, Katie Neff from High Noon production company contacted me because they wanted to pitch me again. It was 2015. This time they wanted to do a brand-new sizzle. You know: give a fresh look. It had been almost two years since the last one, after all.

“They want us to re-Skype you and your brother for a new format that they think you guys could be perfect for,” Katie wrote in an email. “Which makes me VERY HAPPY!”

And then Katie wrote: “Oh, Leanne. Don’t wear your fur coat [Smiley face.]

They set up a three-way Skype interview. Katie Neff was in her office. I was in Los Angeles, sitting in the family room. Steve was in Pittsburgh, drinking a beer in his garage. Yes, this is how the Ford family does an interview.

Steve

I had a Koozie on over the beer.

Leanne

Doesn’t change the fact that it was a still a beer, Steve.

It was such a fun conversation. I actually had a great time.

“Katie, can you come around all the time?” I said to her at the end of the conversation. “My brother talks so much more when you’re here!”

We all cheered to each other over Skype. Here’s to a great television show in our future! After we hung up, I thought, Whoa. Steve’s fun. It’s the most I’ve ever heard Steve talk in the last fifteen years! (But not anymore! Now we always talk.) It was nice to see him in that light and to dream about a show where we worked together. It felt right.

Katie made a pitch video out of our Skype interview along with pictures and projects we had done. And the pitch (not-so-spoiler alert!) was a hit. It made it to round two.

Steve

I really was shocked. This wasn’t anything I ever pursued. I never thought that I wanted to be on TV or be in the public eye. Leanne was always way more comfortable than me in front of people. Her design layouts and renovations were taking off, and I was super happy for her. But for me, I was perfectly content to be in the background. I was just hanging out, doing my job.

Next thing I knew, Leanne was saying, “Hey, want to be on a TV show with me?” And I thought, Sure. Why not? Of course I’ll do that. I work with my sister already; why would it be so different with TV cameras around?

Leanne

It’s worth noting that we spent much of our childhood in front of Dad’s large, over-the-shoulder camcorder. I see videos now of us as children, and I was constantly giving commentary on what was going on, which was more often than not Steve giving a tour of his forts and making mountain-biking videos. We had plenty of practice in front of the camera together. Probably twenty years of it, to be exact.

And that was that. We went back to our normal lives. There were two big takeaways from this whole experience. One, be patient. It takes so long for anything in the entertainment industry to happen, and you are at the whim of many other people. Second, let it play out naturally. I wasn’t worried or stressed about whether this was going to happen or not. If this is going to happen, I thought, it’s going to happen. And if it’s not supposed to—it’s not going to. I really believed that and still do.

I always say, “Thy will be done.” For me, this means that God’s got a better plan than any plan I could dream up. I say life is pretty much this simple: Make plans. Adjust accordingly. Go with the supernatural flow.

My husband, Erik, said to me once, “It’s no wonder you’re so confident. Because you don’t gain your worth from any earthly source.” I liked that observation.

Shortly after the sizzle went to HGTV, I went to Palm Springs with Erik. We were sitting in a little restaurant for lunch. We were there soaking up the rays and the beautiful weather in Palm Springs, enjoying a little time to ourselves. I overheard a man at the table next to me talking about cabinetry. A favorite subject of mine, as you might guess.

A couple of minutes later, the man got up and approached our table.

“I’m so sorry to interrupt you,” he said with a big, friendly smile. “Are you Leanne Ford?”

“Yes,” I said.

“I just had to say hi. I’ve watched your sizzle about twenty times, and I love you and your brother. I’m Loren Ruch from HGTV.”

Loren Ruch is the group SVP of development and production at HGTV.

My heart almost stopped. Here we were, in Palm Springs, and the bigwig from HGTV was sitting next to us and recognized me.

“We watched sixty sizzles. We picked one,” he said. He looked me right in the eye. “And it was yours.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I didn’t really know the magnitude of what it all meant, but I knew it was amazing. It was divine intervention. Hold on to your hat, lady!

I loved talking to Loren. I didn’t want him to leave! Loren has since become a very good friend to both Steve and me. He’s become a huge champion for our show. He’s incredibly supportive. I need to get him a “World’s Best Boss” mug.

I remember walking out of that restaurant arm in arm with Erik. “It’s going to happen, isn’t it?” I said to him.

“Yes,” Erik said. “It sure is.”

To say we didn’t know what we were getting ourselves into would be an understatement. And to be honest, that might have been for the best. Looking back, I’m glad we were oblivious to the great abyss we had just jumped into. Sometimes naivete is the best tool for progress. Then again, sometimes it’s not.

It felt to us as if we had hit the lottery. I mean, here we were, with a television show. We really thought everything was going to be smooth sailing from here.

Smooth sailing? Try again, girl. I had no idea what was waiting for me down the line.

It was time to film our first project: the pilot.

Steve

The only issue was me getting used to being in front of the camera. In my opinion, Leanne seemed to be a natural. Me, not as much. It was really hard for the first few weeks. But I started to get used to it all because we had such a great production team.

Leanne

What? That’s not true, Steve! You had one early day where you were saying, “This is weird. This is awkward.” But then the next day, all of a sudden, the camera would show up, and your voice would get lower, and you would say very professionally, “Okay. So we’re going to need to fix this attic situation.” I was cracking up.

Steve was very confident when the cameras were on, and he would say, all chipper, “Hey Leanne, I’ve got an idea!” Steve is never chipper. He was using those acting skills he got from Dreamgirls, I guess.

Right off the bat, at the first production meeting, the producers threw me a curveball.

“Leanne, can you do a house with some color?” the producers said.

Oh no you didn’t.

If you know my work at all, you know color is a rare sighting. I have always worked with neutrals. Black and white. This isn’t something that I deviate from often. I created a T-shirt that I wear on the show that reads “Wear Black, Paint White.” This is what I’m known for.

Again, I was an interior designer before the show, and I’m going to be an interior designer after the show. So the last thing I wanted to do was be known for something that is not naturally authentic to my style. I couldn’t produce a design that wasn’t representative of who I was. I have to be true to myself, even if it’s a bomb.

I figured there were two ways it could go. If I changed my style for the show and it didn’t work, that would have been the worst. I was sticking to my guns. This house was going to look best in neutrals. I had to do it how I knew it needed to be done, even if it meant losing the show.

Yes, that’s right—losing the show. Why? Because if you’re true to yourself, you can’t fail. If the show didn’t work out, I’d be fine. There are plenty of things in life that don’t work out, and you know what? We survive. In fact, I can pretty much promise you, we come out better because of it.

I also wanted people to see what neutrals could do for them. I wanted to teach people that white could be more than just white. I wanted people to know that white is, as my husband coined and I have since stolen, “the silence between the chords.” It gives us the break we need from all the noise that’s out there in the world.

Thankfully, the producers heard and respected my position, and we were off to the races. That’s when the madness started.

Our first episode was called “Mid-Century Meets 21st Century.” The clients were the Georgi family, who lived in a modern home in the country. Their budget was about $60,000. They needed a major renovation. They had some beautiful bones in the house: brick and paneling, which I loved. It just needed new life.

But here’s what I quickly found out: working on a television show is completely unrelated to designing a house in real life. It’s two separate entities. The producers kept saying to us, “Just do what you would do normally if we weren’t here.” I had to laugh. I mean, that’s impossible.

Steve and I had everything invested in that pilot. We didn’t know or anticipate it was going to be as much work as it turned out to be. Plumbing problems. Equipment not working. Electrical issues. Plus, a crew filming us! We had the owners move out for a couple of months—but we still didn’t have enough time, and we didn’t have enough help. We couldn’t afford enough help! And we didn’t have enough sleep. We were working all night.

Steve

Yeah, I was sleeping at that house because we were working so hard. Everyone stuck it out with me. I kept saying, “We have a deadline. We have to meet the deadline.” It was like my mantra that I just kept repeating over and over again, hoping that we would actually meet that deadline.

Leanne

We jumped in so fast. We didn’t have the budget set. We had a tight timetable since Steve and I had already worked together a number of times—and we have our own shorthand because we’re brother and sister—but this was a totally different beast.

We didn’t want to scrimp on the Georgis’ house, because they were our clients—but also because it was our big shot. Our one chance. And here I was, watching this pilot unfold in total chaos. I absolutely had to pull it together. You do this for a living, I thought to myself. You design beautiful homes that are shot in magazines! And now that you’re doing a TV show . . . you got this.

At a certain point, Steve and I started crumbling from the stress. It really came between the two of us.

Steve

We were fine up until the end, I guess. It just got really intense and exhausting.

Leanne

It was, for me, some serious exhaustion and tears. Steve and I find value in different things. I’m a visual person. I’m a designer. Steve is all about logistics. There was a moment in the pilot where we were sitting up in the attic, talking about the rafters. If you watch our show, or if you’ve seen any of my designs, you will know that I love exposed beams. It really warms up a house. But to expose the rafters in that house, Steve would have had to move all of the HVAC and the air handlers entirely. It would have cost an enormous amount of money.

Steve and I sat up there in those rafters and had a real heart-to-heart, right then and there. I wanted to expose everything. But Steve was being practical. He said to me straight up: “I see dollars just flying out the window.”

“But look how good those beams look.”

“Leanne, that’s going to blow our $60,000 budget.”

“All I see is a perfect dream ceiling,” I said, because that’s how I legitimately felt. Steve wanted to put all the value behind the walls. As a contractor, I understand that. He wants to do his job right. But we never agree on how to handle these kinds of situations.

In the end, the house came out beautiful. Steve won the ceiling debate, and we gave it a layer of gloss that brightened the space up. We painted the brick fireplace white (of course we did). Ed and Steve made a custom slab wood table. We poured our heart into every detail of this home. The master bathroom was really what pulled the owners’ heartstrings. Lisa Georgi burst into tears when she saw how gorgeous it turned out: double shower, soaking tub, mahogany wall and ceiling, with tile floating to meet the wood.

Glad they loved it. ’Cause man, if it didn’t almost kill us!

WORKING ON PROGRESS

Who can you thank for getting you to where you are today? Your parents? Your teachers? Your neighbor who encouraged you? Your college roommate? Old boss? Someone who fired you? Take a moment to thank them, whether in person, on the phone, in a letter, or even a little prayer sent their way. They deserve to know that someone out there has been encouraged or has grown by their actions or words.