And we did this on purpose. That’s the part I can’t get over. Somebody, somewhere, in a nice conference room, decided that less human was better business. Rip out the front desk, bolt in a kiosk.

Kill the menu, print a QR code.

Replace the person with an app and call it innovation.

Those kiosks quietly lower customer loyalty. The effect is worse with your most loyal, highest-tier guests. The exact people you spent years and a fortune trying to keep. You sat them in front of a machine and they liked you a little less for it. (2024 study, linked here, I’m not making this up.) And to be fair, the pandemic did contribute to this modality, but we are waaaaaaaay passed it, right?

Another example, the front desk used to be the emotional center of a hotel. Researchers can actually date its decline to 2015 through 2018, when the check-in apps moved in. We can put a timestamp on the moment we started disappearing.

“Technically personalized, but emotionally distant.” 

Which is the nicest possible way of saying it knows your name and feels like nothing.

(If this is scratching an itch for you, go read Bashar Wali on this. He says service didn’t die, we designed it out. He’s right, and he says it better than almost anyone)

Okay. So here’s my part, the design part, because I can’t help it.

Everyone keeps framing this like technology is the villain and warmth is the victim. It’s not that simple. Technology isn’t the problem. Where you put it is.

Because a kiosk is a design decision. Someone drew that. Someone chose to put a machine exactly where a person used to stand. The tech didn’t sneak in. It was placed there, on a floor plan, on purpose.

Thissss is the part that intrigues me as a designer.

They didn't automate the goodbye. They didn't automate the 2am "something's broken" call. They automated the hello. The one moment where a guest is still deciding whether to trust you. Of all the places to put a machine, they picked the front door. A bad design decision dressed up as innovation.

So the fix is also a design decision. Tech belongs in the back, doing the boring stuff nobody will ever miss. Payments. Keys. The stuff that’s pure friction. And the human belongs up front, in the exact moments that actually make you shape an experience. The welcome. The “let me handle that.”

Every time I sit down with an owner or a developer, this is the hill I’m on. Put the machine in the back. Keep the human at the door. I say it early and I say it often, because once the floor plan is set, it’s expensive to argue with.

Nobody has to choose sides, you just have to put each one where it belongs.

I just think we’re allowed to want more than a QR code. A warm hello. Someone who knows your name. It’s not a lot to ask. It used to be the whole point!

Anyway, Thank you for reading! Let me know your thoughts in the comments!

Leave a comment

xx

Astrid

• I’m going through a whole improvement of my home office and here’s the things I want to recommend to you! I just got this balance stool The Boba Chair and I’m so excited to see how it improves my posture and overall work experience.

• Also, I’m sick of all the cables going everywhere so I also added this to the cart. I like it.

• Not relevant to home office, I also love this necklace and I won’t take it off1

Currently Working on a beautiful suite that it’s inspired on a Tulum meets Mediterranean vibe. Here’s a quick screenshot. We are on early concept but it’s looking soo good already and I’m so excited. Follow along on our Instagram for more design inspiration!

That’s the whole thing. I design a room so you walk in and don’t want to leave. You order the second glass. You stay for the rest of the dinner. The light, the chairs, how loud it is, all of it is quietly working to keep you there a little longer.

When I do it right, you don’t even notice.

You just stay.

Which is why my phone drives me a little insane.Because it was built by people just as obsessive as me, for the exact opposite goal.

Everything about it is designed so you never stay anywhere. Every screen hands you the next one before you’ve finished the first.

And it’s good.

Ugh. Annoyingly good.

I respect it the way you respect a competitor who’s beating you.

I notice it all the time. I’ll watch everyone at the table in a restaurant reach for their phones anyway no matter what. Me included. The phone wins in four seconds.

Rude.

And it makes me wonder what we’re even designing for now.

I can get the light low enough, the chair comfortable enough, the music at the right volume, and I’m still competing with a rectangle engineered by a thousand people to make sure you never fully land in the room.

That’s my actual design problem right now.

The thing in your pocket.

Though here’s where it gets complicated, because I also want you on your phone in my rooms. I design spaces people photograph. A room that ends up on someone’s Instagram probably did something right. Not everything, but something.

So I’m not really anti-phone.

I’m just watching it do two opposite things at once. Pulling you out of the moment and helping you keep it. The same device that won’t let you stay is the one that lets you show everyone you were there.

I’ve started fighting back in dumb little ways. There’s an app that turns my phone into a 2004 Nokia for a few hours a day. Calls and texts, nothing else.

Slightly embarrassing that I need it.

But a room can only try so hard, you know?

Funny job, designing places for people who are always being invited somewhere else.

This week the only two things I’m obsessed with are this chess set. I love it. And this dry shampoo that has saved my curls from drying to death. Curly hair is no joke, friends!

Currently working on Alkemi Interiors: We onboarded a beautiful residential remodel by Utah Lake. We are stocked! It’s going to be such a good one.
I’m still looking for a project name, but I’ll be sharing more details soon. A moment for the view: Thank you very muchhhhh.

Back to fighting my phone.
xx
Astrid

Share Room Service Notes

A local spa reached out about renovating two locations.

Which, honestly, was very exciting. This is exactly the type of project I’ve been trying to get closer to. Local, commercial, experience-focused, with an owner who clearly cared about what she was building.

I wanted in.

When she asked for a ballpark, I gave her one.
I know.

I KNOW.

At the time, it did not feel reckless. I wasn’t throwing out some random number. I had experience. I had context. I had worked on projects with similar pieces before.

But I still said a number before I had actually sat down and priced the work.

Then I started writing the proposal.

And once the scope was actually on paper, the real number was about twenty thousand dollars higher than what I had said out loud.

Not my favorite moment. I sent the proposal anyway, because it was the right number.

And…She didn’t move forward.

Ten years in, projects in three countries, and somehow this was the first time I’d done it. Thrown out a number before I’d done the math. Gosh. What was
I thinking?!

The hard part is not even that she said no. That happens. People say no for a million reasons.

The hard part is knowing I created the gap.

A project that sounds simple in conversation can become much bigger once you write down every meeting, drawing, revision, decision, and piece of coordination it actually needs.

Here’s what I keep coming back to: I walked in assuming I already knew what this one would cost because I’ve done others like it. Every project is its own animal. Two locations is not one location times two. A spa is not a restaurant. This client is not the last client. The scope I imagined in my head while we were talking was not the scope that emerged on paper when I actually had to write it down.

I don’t see this one as a loss. She’s going to build something beautiful with whoever she ends up working with, and with this said, I do not think the final proposal was wrong. I believe in the number I sent was a reflection of the work and care.

But I should not have given the first one!!

So now I have a new rule for myself.

No ballparks in the room. ( I feel a bit dumb as I write this, since it’s well known this would happen, haha)

Even after ten years, every project still deserves its own math.

Horrible news for the part of me that wants to sound casual and confident on a call.

Great news for the part of me trying to build a business that does not quietly punish me later.

I’ve been loving this Kulfi tint soooo much, I wanted to share it with you. Also, shoutout to Target’s $25 usd sandals that are sooo versatile.

I’m currently reading: How to Win Friends and Influence People (for the first time) I love reading about self-growth and business! IF you have any recs let me know.

Have you ever underpriced a project, or thrown out a number before you were ready? Hit leave a comment and tell me! I read everything.

Leave a comment

If this one resonated, forward it to a founder friend. :)

Hi. I'm Astrid, and you just checked into Room Service Notes.🛎️

Welcome.

This is the newsletter I’ve been wanting to write for a while. A weekly note from inside Alkemi Interiors. Think of it as a conversation I’d have with a friend over coffee if she asked me what I’m working on. Honest. Useful, I hope.

I design hospitality and commercial spaces for a living. I’ve been doing this for about ten years, between Mexico, Spain, and now Utah, and the longer I do it, the more I realize how much of the actual work never makes it into the polished version. I want to share it all. The idea is that this becomes something you can reference back to when you need it, comment on, push back on, and that we polish and grow together.

I’ll keep it short and sweet. I have so much to share about this beautiful industry, about growing my dream interior design studio, and about how spaces transform the way we experience the world.

So that’s the deal. I hope you write back sometimes.

xx, Astrid

Follow along