EP7: Q & A- My Preferences, Clients Getting Embarrassed, Access to Lifestyle, Contractor Seeing the St. Andrews Cross

Welcome to Designed for Desire, the podcast where luxury, kink, and home come together to create spaces that are anything but ordinary.

Hi, I’m Jenny, your host and the creative genius behind White Wave Design, a full-service interior design studio specializing in erotic interiors for badass soulmates. I design for the weird, the wonderful, and the unapologetically unconventional. For those who crave total freedom in the comfort and beauty of home, a place where you never have to hold back. Your home becomes a part of your foreplay. 

Because this niche doesn’t exist in mainstream design, I know you have questions, and this podcast is here to answer them. You’ll hear me switch between pronouns, plurals, and titles because the relationships I work with are as beautifully varied and expansive as the people themselves, and always between consenting adults in a healthy, loving and devoted 24/7 D/s dynamic.

Whatever twists of fate, coincidences, or hidden alignments the universe set in motion, I’m so happy you're here!

Hello Wonderful Weirdo!

This week’s Q & A I’m discussing:

• My preferences

• If clients get embarrassed 

• Access to your lifestyle

• What if the contractor sees the St. Andrews Cross

Let’s dive right into my preferences. 

SPOTIFY LINK for your listening pleasure APPLE LINK

WHAT ARE YOUR KINKS AND FETISHES? ARE YOU THE DOM OR THE SUB IN YOUR RELATIONSHIP?

I think when people ask this, what they’re really asking is, are you safe. Are you going to judge me? Are you going to understand me? Are you going to mishandle something that is incredibly personal and vulnerable? 

The industry that I’m in, and the focus on pleasure and sex within my design practice, of course brings up the topic of sex. And that naturally leads people to wonder what I’m into but it’s also the other person’s choice whether or not they answer. 

Years ago, when I overhauled my design practice, I made a very intentional decision that discussing my sex life and my personal preferences is not something I do. And that is not changing.

I do not need to participate in a lifestyle to design for it well. My job is not to replicate my own desires inside your home. My job is to understand yours and translate them into space, structure, and experience. Dynamics, rituals, power, intimacy, and privacy are not abstract concepts to me. They are lived realities for my clients, and I treat them with precision and respect.

My personal life, my preferences, my sex life have absolutely no bearing on whether or not I can design for yours. I am kink-aware but we do not need to be kink-identical. We do not need to be into the same things for me to be able to design a home around yours. And that would be incredibly limiting. I’ve already really narrowed my design niche. I don’t need to narrow it down further.

I was already working within about 1% for the budgets that I work with. And then you get into the niche that I work in and I mean, I’m not a statistical math wizard, but I’m sure I’ve narrowed it down to something like 0.0005%. It’s a very small number. So I don’t need my design work to be any more limited. Knowing whether I’m kinky or not, or what I’m into, does not change my ability to do my job. It may or may not change how you view me as a person or how you view me as a designer.

And if me not sharing that information bothers you to the point where you don’t feel comfortable working with me, that is completely your choice. But this is one of my boundaries. You could view it as a hard limit. And maybe it’s a hard limit for you not knowing what I’m into, and that’s totally okay. Because then you’re not my client. We’re just not meant to work together.

Yes, it will feel one-sided. I am going to know way more about you than you will ever know about me. But that’s the case with a lot of designers. You will always know less about your designer than they know about you, regardless of the niche they specialize in. This isn’t about relatability in the sense of being the same. This is about professionalism. This is not a social club. This is a confidential, expert relationship.

So no, I don’t answer questions about my kinks or fetishes. I don’t answer whether I’m a Dom or a sub. Curious minds want to know, and I totally understand that. But it’s also my choice to decline answering, and that is also okay.

There can be speculation, sure, but I don’t talk about it with anyone. And I’m also not asking random people on the internet what they’re into. Just because I’m in this industry doesn’t mean I want or need to know anything about you either.

I hope that someday there are more designers doing the work that I’m doing, designing entire homes with pleasure, sex, and intimacy in mind. Right now, I believe I’m the only one. There are others designing dungeons and playrooms, which is amazing and such a great start. I’m excited to see that niche grow. But if you needed a designer who was into exactly what you’re into, at this point there isn’t anyone who would match you perfectly.

And there may never be. There are so many incredible kinks, fetishes, and desires. Even within something as specific as a foot fetish, there are countless ways people experience and enjoy it. The facets of pleasure are vast and beautiful. You would never have a designer who matches you perfectly. So this comes down to trust. You trust the person you hire, you trust their vibe, and you trust their expertise.

And I’ll use a comparison here, not because I’m suggesting I’m a therapist in any way, but just to make the point. When you see a sex therapist or a couples therapist, you divulge to them and they will never share with you. They’re not telling you about their relationship. There’s no comparison to find common ground. You’re going to an expert, likely a kink-informed therapist, to help you individually or within your relationship. And there is no back-and-forth sharing to make it feel equal. You tell them your deepest, darkest secrets. And they never share theirs back.

That’s how I see this. It is a professional relationship. You are hiring me, and I am providing you with a service. We’re still going to be friendly. We’re going to joke, have fun, chat, and get excited together. But we aren’t besties giggling on the couch watching a movie. We’re not swapping stories about partners or sharing personal details.

This is me coming in to change your life. To change how you feel in your own skin, in your home. Which, for some people, might be the only place in the world they truly feel comfortable. Whether that’s a primary residence or a vacation home. There may be nowhere else in your life that allows you to fully be you.

And the reason this works is because of boundaries, not despite them. Privacy and professionalism are what make it possible for you to be honest with me. You don’t have to manage my feelings. You don’t have to perform. You just get to tell me your truth.

This isn’t the first time I’ve answered this version of the question, and it won’t be the last. I understand it’s natural to wonder. And that curiosity is heightened by the niche I’ve chosen. But just as much as I keep your private life private, I also keep mine private.

Onto the next question about whether clients get embarrassed when they’re talking about their desires, kinks, and fetishes.

DO CLIENTS GET EMBARRASSED HAVING TO DIVULGE THEIR KINKY SEX LIVES TO YOU?

Embarrassed is definitely one word that comes up. There can be embarrassment, and this ties back to the first question, because clients don’t know if we relate. They don’t know what my kinks, fetishes, or desires are. So when they’re telling me things, they might be sharing something they’ve never told anyone outside of their relationship. Ever.

You’re talking to almost a stranger. I haven’t been in your relationship for years. We haven’t had time to develop that deep level of comfort and trust yet. That’s something I build, and I try to build it quickly, but trust still takes time.

So people might start with, “This might be kind of weird,” or “I’m not sure if I should say this.” You might blush. You might feel nervous. You might wring your hands. That’s all very normal.

These first few conversations are incredibly vulnerable. And I try to bring a level of comfort and understanding into those meetings, because I can only design for you as much as you’re willing to share. And that also means if you don’t share your whole truth, I’m not designing for your whole desires. I don’t want you to end up with a home that’s only half of what you actually wanted. So you do need to get real honest, real fast. And you need to be brave.

Because yes, since I design around sex, people assume that’s the only thing we talk about. That it’s only the kinky stuff. And that’s not true. You need to be vulnerable about your whole life.

And writing this I’m hesitant to give examples because I absolutely do not want you to be embarrassed, but I also think some examples are needed. I’ll use a few that I feel are humanly universal. And it’s not just sex that people get embarrassed about.

You could be the worst singer in the world, but you love to sing. You know you sound like Scuttle from The Little Mermaid, but you’re going to sing your little heart out anyway. Maybe you only do it when you think no one’s listening. Or maybe you want a sound system in the shower so you can sing while you’re getting ready in the morning. You might feel embarrassed telling me that.

Maybe you hate going to the gym because you feel awkward or uncomfortable, or you can’t because of your fame. So you want a gym at home where no one ever has to see you or your weird yoga poses, or that you fart or pee a little every time you change poses.

Maybe you’re a terrible dancer, but you want a space in your home where you can dance anyway. Two left feet, don’t care.

Maybe you’re the worst cook and you couldn’t boil water to save your life, but you want a beautiful kitchen because your partner cooks, or you always have catering, or a private chef. And just because you are hopeless in the kitchen doesn’t mean you don’t enjoy being in the room.

Are you self-conscious about anal sex, anal plugs, to douche or not to douche, showering before and after, cleanup afterwards?

The bathroom is one of the rooms where many of us are very self-conscious. Sounds. Smells.

Your Saturday morning routine of cartoons, colouring books, blankies, and stuffies while your submissive is making your breakfast.

A vulva owner telling me they experience heavy menstrual flow, which often results in blood on the bedsheets because overnight pads aren’t sufficient and tampons aren’t an option.

You have different lubes for different situations. When designing the bathroom vanities, I will organize the drawers for pads, panty liners, anal douche, and lube, with wood organizers, the same way I would in a kitchen for utensils.

When you masturbate, are you in bed, in the shower, sitting on the couch or computer chair? Do you draw the curtains or do you like looking outside? Are you wearing panties, boxers, or are you naked? Are you using your fingers, hands, and/or toys, lube or a soft t-shirt? Watching your phone or laptop, reading your tablet, using headphones for audio, or just your imagination? When you come, is it contained or is there cleanup required? Do you use a damp washcloth on the nightstand, hop in the shower, or grab tissues? Do you lay a towel down so the comforter doesn’t get soaked? Yes, we’re going to talk about this.

From a design perspective, this is exactly the kind of information that allows me to do my job well. Designing for intimacy and comfort means designing for real bodies, not idealized ones. The respectful response isn’t reassurance or normalization. It’s competence. I receive the information calmly, factor it into the design, and create solutions that support comfort, rest, and ease for everyone in the household, without anyone having to manage embarrassment.

There are so many things we’re self-conscious about as humans. So many things we could feel embarrassed about. But if you flip it the other way, nothing you share with me is embarrassing to me. I chose to take you on as a client. And before I ever do that, there is already a level of information I know that tells me I want to design your home around you and your relationship.

I love your love story. I want to express it. This is an agreement between us. You didn’t randomly walk up to me on the street and start telling me these stories. I asked for them. I’m inviting you to tell me.

And don’t forget, you hired me. We had many conversations before you signed on the dotted line. You paid me a lot of money to tell me these things.

So yes, clients might get embarrassed. But it’s human. It’s a human expression. We move through it. We talk about it. You can tell me you’re embarrassed. You can say, “I don’t know if I can say this out loud.”

The point is, we are humans in a room having a human experience. I’m not there to judge you. I’m not there to discount what you’re saying. I know what you’re telling me carries weight. We’ve been taught not to share our vulnerabilities. Being a bad singer. A bad dancer. And definitely not our sex lives. You might gossip or talk at book club or over wine, but it’s often surface level. You’re not getting deep. And that’s okay. You don’t have to tell everyone.

But you do have to tell me. Because if you don’t, there’s no reason for us to work together.

You’re probably going to be nervous. You may have been waiting years for this. You might feel like you’re about to burst because you want this home so badly and you want to tell me everything all at once. Or your partner might be calm, cool, and collected and be the one to speak more.

Confidence is something I talk about a lot. You’re confident in your sex life. Now be confident in your home. And being confident doesn’t mean you won’t feel shy, awkward, vulnerable, or embarrassed. 

You’ll know this meeting is coming. You’ll have like a month to stew while you fill out the lifestyle questionnaire. Then we’ll talk about it for hours. You’ll build it up in your head. What am I going to say? What is she going to think? You can always email me ahead of time and say, “This is where we’re at.” and we can talk before the meeting.

I see myself as your visual storyteller, secret keeper, and dream weaver. This is what I chose to do for a living. These are conversations I expect to have. So no, I don’t want you to be embarrassed. But if you are, that’s okay too because I don’t want you to be embarrassed about being embarrassed. That just doubles up the feelings.

ACCESS TO YOUR LIFESTYLE

So the next thing I want to talk about is access to your lifestyle, and I’m going to answer this in two ways.

The first way I’m answering this is if you’re wondering whether I’m expecting something from you beyond being paid to be your designer. Things like clout, access, accolades, or using your fame or status to help me in some way.

The answer to that is no.

The portfolio I’ve created is made up of beautiful love stories that came from my imagination. They exist so you understand what I do, what I offer, and how I work. You likely hired me based on that portfolio.

I do all of my own marketing. I do all of my own advertising. A version of that, of course, is this podcast. You get to hear my voice, how I think, how I feel. And you might listen and think, “She’s a cool chick, we should email her,” or you might think, “She is absolutely wackadoo, I would never want to work with her.” Both are totally valid reactions.

I don’t design for attention. I design for intimacy and identity. Everything we create together stays between us.

You may have stumbled across my website or social profile. You may have been referred by a trusted advisor or best friend. You may have heard gossip on the golf course about the woman who designs homes for sex. You don’t know me personally. We’ve never met. There are no referrals on my website.

I will never ask you to hand out business cards to your friends, family, or band mates. If you refer me, it is of your own volition. Your home will never splash the glossy pages of a magazine. There won’t be media coverage, photo ops, or interviews unless you want there to be. There is no logo on my car or signs in your front yard. I don’t do press tours or behind-the-scenes features.

No one outside of the core design and build team will ever know my name. In turn, I do not use your name or fame to excel my business forward. I don’t discuss or share client or project details with or without an NDA if you’ve instructed me not to. I don’t read or pay any attention to tabloids, online gossip, TV shows, or otherwise. I do not break my word or the discretion that I hold so dearly, as the work I do requires trust and vulnerability.

Confidentiality is not a marketing tool in my practice. It is non-negotiable. My clients’ lives are not content. They are private, complex, and deserving of protection. That commitment is foundational to how I work.

I ask about routines, rituals, power dynamics, and private moments because those are the things that shape how space is used. They determine flow, lighting, storage, acoustics, privacy, and proportion. None of that shows up on a standard floor plan. A room does not function the same way for everyone, and intimacy does not happen on schedule. Understanding those details allows me to design spaces that feel intuitive rather than forced.

Access to a client’s lifestyle also means understanding the realities of visibility, status, and fame. Some have very public lives. They are recognized, discussed, photographed, and scrutinized. Others hold power in quieter ways that don’t come with a spotlight but still carry risk. Their homes are often the only place where they are not performing. That context matters. It informs decisions about privacy, circulation, entrances, sightlines, sound, and security. Fame and status are not aesthetics. They are lived conditions that shape how safe someone feels in their own space.

You’re not hiring me to observe your lifestyle. You’re hiring me to understand it.

I don’t want access to your D/s dynamic just to say I’ve seen it. I want to know how you live, what you need, what grounds you, what excites you, so I can design a home that holds those rituals, reflects your truth, and respects your privacy.

The world will never know I am your designer.

The second way I want to answer access to your lifestyle is in terms of how I design for you.

This is why I call it a lifestyle questionnaire, because it’s your whole life, not just one part of it. If you’re local or nearby, I will spend time with you in your home. I observe. I ask questions. We talk through your routines and your rituals. I prefer to do this in person because I get the full picture. I get nuances. I see body language. Nothing gets lost.

Morning routines. Evening routines. Whether you work from home or outside the home. Some people thrive on routines. Some people don’t. And if you have rules or rituals within your dynamic, those are discussed. I am not involved in your scenes, and I don’t observe them, but I need to understand the structure around them.

I don’t have a separate podcast episode on routines yet, though I probably could, but I’ll give you a quick example. Part of accessing your lifestyle is filling out the questionnaire. The other part is observing your behavior in your home.

Let’s take a morning routine. You might tell me, “I wake up at 5:30, go to the gym, come home, shower, get ready, and leave around 8:30.” Almost everyone says that and thinks it tells me everything. It doesn’t. This could be anyone’s routine.

Between opening your eyes and walking out the door, there are ten million tiny details I need to know. What do your sheets feel like? Or how would you want them to feel if you don’t like them now? When you get out of bed, what are you wearing? Do you sleep nude? In a tank top and shorts? Boxers? Panties? A bra? Full flannel pajamas?

What’s on the floor? Is there a rug? Do you put on slippers? Do you walk to a chair with a robe draped over it? Do you head to the bathroom? Do you go downstairs for water? Start coffee? Make waffles? Is the room cold or warm? Is your private chef already prepping?

When you’re waiting for coffee, are you standing at a window looking at nature? Looking at the city? Thinking about your day? Listening to a podcast? Mentally checking if your workout clothes are ready? Were they laid out the night before? That might be the first seven minutes of your day. And those details matter.

This is why I prefer to be there in person. I notice things you don’t even register anymore because they’re so routine. If I can’t be there, then I’ll ask you to be very conscious for at least a week before our meeting. Every movement. Every habit. Every thought. Write it down if you need to. Keep a log of your morning and evening routines so we can talk about them.

If you work out every morning, maybe your gym needs to be on the same floor as your bedroom. Maybe it shouldn’t be in the basement. Maybe it shouldn’t be in a separate building on the property. That one detail alone changes dozens of design decisions. And that’s just one tiny piece.

Some of you are up for hours before work. There’s a lot that goes into your routines. I need access to that because that’s literally how I design your home. Nothing is assumed. Everything is developed through conversation.

The same goes for rituals. You might have morning rituals with your Dom or your sub. You might have rituals just for yourself. And if we’re designing a dungeon or playroom, or if those rituals happen in the living room, dining room, bedroom, or bathroom, I need to understand that too.

Whether you already have dedicated spaces or want them, I need to know.

WHAT IF THE CONTRACTOR OR TRADES SEE THE ST. ANDREWS CROSS?

So the last question is, what if the contractor sees the St. Andrew’s cross. And you can replace that with a flogger, a puppy mask, a spanking bench, a glory hole, whatever your version of the thing is that you’d be worried about a contractor seeing.

This concern is very natural.

This is one of the most common anxieties clients carry, even if they never say it directly. It sits quietly under the excitement of the project. The question isn’t really about the object itself. It’s about visibility. People are comfortable imagining their home when it’s finished and private. What unsettles them is the in-between. The moment where something personal exists in a semi-public process.

When clients ask what happens if a contractor sees a St. Andrew’s cross, what they are really afraid of is judgment, gossip, and a shift in power. They worry about being reduced to a single detail or misunderstood entirely. They fear that once something is seen, it changes how they are perceived. That fear is less about morality and more about control over their narrative.

I’m realizing as I’m recording this that this whole episode is really about natural concerns. I didn’t even clock that until now, but maybe that’s why all of these questions felt connected and why I pulled them together.

So again, this is something you are likely very cautious and private about. Not secretive in a bad way, but private. Because this is your personal life. And while you and I are going to talk about it, as a society, we generally don’t.

So whatever your version of the St. Andrew’s cross is, it’s completely natural to worry about someone seeing it. What are they going to say? What are they going to think? Are they going to tell someone else? Are they going to judge us?

It was already scary enough to tell me. And now there’s a contractor involved.

But in my design practice, I work with design and build teams. We’re not doing one room. We’re not bringing in one random person to do a bit of drywall and reinforce a wall.

The design + build teams I work with, or recommend and that you still personally vet, are very, very aware of the homes I design. This is something I talk about with them.

They are also the procurement team. They order the sofas, the drapery, the flooring, the wallpaper, the paint. They schedule the painters, and the installers. They work with me on installation days. And when I say days, I mean multiple days, sometimes multiple weeks.

I also prefer that the builder and I are hired at the same time. Their name is included in my contract, and you sign off acknowledging that we are all part of the same team.

They have their own level of discretion. They will also sign NDAs if that makes you feel more comfortable.

These are teams that build homes with discretion built in. They are used to working with high-profile clients. This is not someone new to the industry who doesn’t understand what this level of privacy means.

If there is a St. Andrew’s cross, they know it’s going to be there. They help install it. Or they work with the person fabricating it, depending on how the project is structured. This is all discussed ahead of time. 

They know these elements are part of the home. Their team orders them. They coordinate deliveries. They schedule shipments into the warehouse where all of your furnishings, accessories, and project elements are stored.

They are aware of what we’re doing.

What they won’t know, unless you choose to tell them, is what you do with that St. Andrew’s cross.

They might assume someone will be attached to it. They might guess, especially if they are kink-aware or kinky themselves. But they don’t know the details.

Is it you? Is it your partner? Is it a play partner? For how long. What are you doing on it? Are you being tickled? Are you being flogged?

They don’t know that.

I will know some of the particulars, to a degree, because I need to design for safety, structure, and flow. But they don’t need to know the details. They just know what needs to be built. They know there’s a St. Andrew’s cross. They know there’s a spanking bench. They know we need reinforced ceilings if there’s suspension. They need to know weight loads so the engineering team can do their job.

This is why I prefer working with design and build teams that have an architect on staff. It reduces the number of teams involved. We’re working with one integrated team.

And again, this is all discussed before you sign off on building the home. There has to be a level of trust between me, the build team, and their workers.

No one needs to know whose house it is. You don’t have to be on site when the crew is there. It can just be me and the builder. Or just me. Or just the builder. They don’t need to know who you are.

But when you work with me, there is no hiding what we’re installing. Because the build team is part of the installation process.

If you already have a builder you trust and want to work with, that can absolutely happen. But they still need to complement what I do. If they only build and I only design, and no one is handling procurement, scheduling, and coordination, then we need another team. And that adds complexity.

It’s important that all three of us are aligned. We know our roles. We know what each other is responsible for. And we move together.

So yes, if the build team sees the St. Andrew’s cross, they know it’s part of the home. And again, there’s no need to be embarrassed. This is literally why we’re building your dream home. You could build the same home you’ve probably built multiple times before.

There are also levels to this. Spaces you entertain in versus spaces that are just for you. This is your sex pad versus where you gather with friends and family. Some spaces may be obvious. Some may be discreet. Or the entire house may be obvious.

That’s your choice. And it’s something we talk about.

This is a really big deal. You’ve never built a home like this before. And I’m confident you’ve never worked with a team like this before.

You might know someone in your kink community you’d trust. Or you might not know anyone who could build a house at all.

Working with me is not for the faint of heart.

It’s natural to worry about someone seeing kink gear. And I’m definitely not bringing anyone onto your team, or recommending anyone, who doesn’t understand what we’re doing. Hopefully this answer reframes the question from “What if someone sees?” to “How do we design a process where visibility never becomes a threat?”

Okay. This was fun.

If you ever have questions, you can send me a DM through Instagram. I don’t share names. I don’t share details. I keep the questions broad and anonymous.

This is a wonderfully weird topic that no one else is really talking about. And I hope you had as much fun listening as I did answering.

More than design. This is identity.

My intention for this episode was for you to know that you’re not alone. To feel seen, heard, and understood. To know that your desires are valid, and that a home designed to enhance your sex life is not only possible, it’s waiting for you.

Maybe you laughed. Maybe a memory tugged at your heartstrings. Maybe you had an aha moment, or whispered, “she gets me.”

If you feel that working with the White Wave Design team is for you, please visit our Design Inquiry page.

Thank you for spending this time with me and for allowing me to be part of your journey. Until next time… have joy.

Jenny 💀