Is This The Opportunity I’ve Been Waiting For?

There is a particular feeling that comes with being offered something that is slightly bigger than what you have done before. It isn’t quite fear and I don’t think it is anxiety either. It is more like a collection of question marks.

Am I ready for this?

Can I really do this at this level? Can my little studio deliver what a client with very high expectations will expect? What happens when the brief is bigger, the budget is bigger, the expectations are bigger and there is simply more at stake?

And then, somewhere underneath all those questions, there is another voice that says: Yes. This is exactly what you have been building towards.

I think this is one of the stranger parts of growing something largely by yourself.

You spend years wanting the bigger opportunity. You work on your eye, your experience, your relationships, your suppliers, your processes. You collect references, learn from other people’s mistakes, visit sites, source materials, meet artisans, build a network and slowly figure out what you will and will not accept.

And then something comes along that makes you wonder whether you are actually ready. It’s somehow funny, isn’t it? You can spend years preparing for an opportunity and still question yourself when it arrives.

AD Design is still growing

AD Design is still a young studio and I am very conscious of that.

We are growing with intention and, perhaps more importantly, with careful selection. I don’t want to take on every project simply because it is available. I want to build a body of work that says something about how I see design and the kind of work I want AD Design to be known for.

At the same time, I look around and see the incredible companies we sometimes work alongside or compete with. Companies that have been doing this for decades. With enormous portfolios, established teams, huge supplier networks and resources that we simply don’t have.

And yet, I don’t think the answer is to make myself smaller because somebody else is bigger.

There is a reason I am in the room because of what I bring. I do trust my eye. I trust my way of thinking about design. I tend to approach problems differently, and I am teaching my team to always be willing to look for the solution when the obvious one doesn’t exist.

The Nigerian market has taught me a lot

Some of the most interesting design questions I have encountered here are precisely the ones where there isn’t an obvious answer.

How do we get this made? Who can produce it? Can we adapt this material? Can we achieve this finish locally? Can we get the quality we want?

Sometimes the answer is yes. Sometimes it is no. And lots of times it is, “Not yet, but let’s figure it out.”

That last one has probably taught me the most. It can be found in almost every project more than once.

Yesterday, while talking to my wallpaper installer about tile layouts, I said something that made me realise just how much it reflects my approach to design: “I want you to tell me you don’t understand it at first.” Not because I want to make things unnecessarily difficult, but because it means we haven’t done it before. We are entering new terrain. I don’t want to do things simply because they have been done before and can be found on every other site.

It is a demanding approach, and it often pushes the team to its limits. But I want that to be the standard. I want us to be daring and increasingly resourceful - to find people, ask questions, develop relationships with suppliers and artisans, and understand where compromises can be made and where they absolutely cannot. Creativity isn’t only about coming up with a beautiful idea. It is also about finding a way to make the beautiful idea possible. And that is something I trust myself with.

So, am I ready?

From the early talks and deliberations, I can be confident that another residential project may be joining the mix soon. And it is the kind of project where 120% excellence isn’t optional.

Naturally, that makes me pause. There is a part of me asking whether I am ready for something of that scale and expectation. But then I think about the years that have gone into getting here: the projects that were difficult and the mistakes. I think about the suppliers who taught me what to look for and the artisans I now know I can trust, and the ones I know I cannot unfortunately. The countless materials I have touched, compared and rejected. The homes, hotels, restaurants and spaces I have walked through. The design books and magazines. The courses and masterclasses. The travels and conversations. The things I have saved, studied and mentally filed away for years.

All of that is preparation too.

Being ready doesn’t necessarily mean feeling completely ready. Perhaps it means having enough experience to know that you can figure things out when you don’t have the answer immediately.

And there is something else I keep reminding myself: I don’t have to do everything alone.

One of the things I am most grateful for is the network that has grown around AD Design. Suppliers who know their craft. People who can fabricate, source and advise. Companies with incredible expertise and much larger portfolios than mine who can become collaborators.

As the studio grows, I am learning that the goal isn’t to pretend AD Design has been doing this for thirty years.

The goal is to bring the eye, creativity, diligence and standards I have developed over the years and surround that with the right people to execute it exceptionally well.

What does growth actually feel like?

I think we often imagine growth as confidence. You get the bigger project and suddenly you feel like, of course I can do this.

I think more often, growth feels like standing at the edge of something and thinking: “This is bigger than anything I’ve done before.” And then deciding to step forward anyway.

It reminds me of the skydiving and paragliding jumps under my belt. The difference is that this step doesn’t feel reckless or blind.

It feels prepared. Prepared by years of learning, observing, making mistakes, asking questions, building relationships and becoming increasingly particular about what I am willing to put my name to.

I am incredibly grateful for the larger, long-term developments we are working towards right now, just as I am for the smaller commercial projects helping the studio grow, learn and build its portfolio. Every project is part of the story.

So, am I taking a chance on myself? Yes. But perhaps it isn’t really a chance anymore. Perhaps it is the next logical step after years of building, learning, saying no when something wasn’t right and figuring things out when there wasn’t an obvious answer.

Curiosity and audacity are important ingredients for growth. So is diligence.

When the right opportunity comes along, I think the challenge is to be brave enough to step into it, trust the instinct, talent, creativity and network you have built - and then do the work.

I don’t need to know exactly how everything will work before I begin. I do need to know though that I have built the judgement to find a way when it doesn’t. And maybe that is what being ready actually looks like.