Recipe for an Interior Designer

Paul LewisI was born in 1958 in a suburb of Charleston, West Virginia “affectionately” know as Lick-skillet – our community, so poor, that residents purportedly licked their skillets clean. It wasn’t far from being a misnomer; I’d seen my father treat his dinner plate as a dog would its bowl on many occasions, but, mitigated more from crudeness than necessity. Regardless, my four sisters and I were raised well below the poverty line and our mother did everything within her ability to shelter us from the actual knowledge of our status and the subsequent burden of knowing.

The girls were stair-steps and raised in a different era than I; my eldest sister is fifteen years older and the youngest is ten years older. They were either engaged to be married or simply otherwise engaged as I was growing up, so, any memories I have of siblings in the house are faint or relegated to a few photographs crumbling in a box. I was raised as an only child by a mother already adept at child rearing. The mistakes I might have possibly made were corrected in advance; I cleaned instead of making messes, helped around the house without prompting, and worked diligently at keeping my mother happy.

Given my family’s economic status and our impoverished location, interior design wasn’t even a concept I could grasp. I honestly didn’t know such a vocation existed or that there would be a need for something so superfluous. Decorating consisted of whatever accessories and “art” my mother could collect with Green Stamps garnered in purchasing groceries. Fortunately, and out of absolute necessity, Mother was an excellent seamstress. She fabricated what window treatments we had in our home in addition to pillows and slipcovers for the furniture. She was self-taught in the skill, but, made proficient in having to provide all the clothing for herself, four growing girls, and later for the son she hadn’t anticipated. Mother clothed me until I was eleven, at which point I had begun working to help provide for myself.

I began working, as many children do, performing chores for neighbors they’d prefer not doing themselves: mowing lawns, cleaning dog pens, picking up refuse, and even plucking chickens. It was very little money, but, sufficient for the needs of a preteen in 1969. My family recognized early in my childhood that I had an artistic aptitude. I would spend hours copying characters from the back pages of children’s magazines – usually, “Pepe,” a cartoon mouse in a sombrero – that once reviewed, and if approved, would ensure a higher education in the field. My submissions were invariably returned with the explanation that though the drawings were very good, I was too young for consideration. I continued to draw. I was fifteen when I was employed by the board of education as an illustrator for supplemental textbooks. My parents signed consent forms enabling me to work and dutifully shuttled me back and forth, brown lunch bag in hand, for the duration of the summer job. I never received formal training until college, but, I continued my art with commissioned portraits and graphic design and murals for local businesses. I began working weekends as a brick tender (menial labor for brick and block masons – mixing cement, assembling scaffolding, carrying brick and block, etc.) for my brother-in-law, John Carte, an extremely well regarded mason. That weekend job would last seven years and only ended with my college graduation in 1980.

Mother was the first in her family to have acquired a high school diploma. Her self-education continued in reading countless periodicals and books and completing innumerable crossword puzzles. She possessed one of the best vocabularies and grammar I’ve encountered yet to this day. My sisters had been more interested in the extra curricular activities in their schooling, but, they all graduated. I was an academic from the beginning: extremely competitive, intelligent – not gifted, and tenacious. I would later become involved in other activities – editor of the school paper, student council, choir, track – but, my focus was always education. My academic drive didn’t absolve me of my economic status, but, it did level the playing field in school; my peers were all intellectuals from the more affluent suburbs and I was never regarded as a lesser. I finished high school in the top 1% of my class and was awarded a full academic scholarship to attend the university of my choosing. I opted for a private college, the University of Charleston, and graduated Summa Cum Laude in Business, Management and Marketing within three years.

I graduated from college in West Virginia on July 27, 1980, moved, and was employed in Florida August 2nd. Another brother-in-law, Gerhard Boerner, was a principal in a residential construction firm in Spring Hill, Florida with ties to an interior design studio needing a manager. With my art background, newly acquired business degree, and familial connection I was offered the position. After having managed the business for three years, the decorator, with whom I worked, and I purchased the studio. Though the business continued to be moderately successful, we partners suffered professional differences and shuttered the studio in 1986. I was hired, soon thereafter, as a model home merchandiser for Burt Hill Kosar Rittelmann Associates, an architectural firm based in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania with a satellite office in Fort Myers, Florida. While working for Burt Hill I acquired an Associates Degree in Interior Design from St. Petersburg College and amassed an impressive portfolio, partially in use today. I have been self employed in the Tampa Bay area since 1990 and am licensed in both Interior Design and Residential Construction.

I don’t begrudge my modest beginnings or the steps I’ve made walking to become the man I presently am. I have a beautiful home, drive a luxury vehicle, and vacation frequently in Europe and Asia, but, I still clip coupons, deliberate return on investment, and buy most merchandise on sale. I appreciate what it is to be comfortable because I remember what it was to be poor. My upbringing has served me, and continues to serve my clients, exceedingly well; I spend my client’s money as if it were my own.

About the author

Paul Lewis, degreed in Business Management and Marketing and Interior Design, is licensed in Florida as an Interior Designer and Certified Residential Contractor. His work in model home merchandising has garnered the builders with whom he has partnered innumerable awards and he, and his work, have been published both nationally and internationally. Paul has resided and practiced in the Tampa Bay area for thirty seven years.