Design Without Borders
In the realm of luxury design, the most profound transformations occur not in the spaces we inhabit, but in the minds that dare to reimagine them. The ability to translate vision into reality whilst honouring cultural authenticity represents the pinnacle of architectural mastery. Eric Simard, Owner and CEO of Finesse Interiors DXB and Co-Founder of NuviNest, embodies this philosophy through his decade-long journey from Montreal to Miami to Dubai, crafting bespoke residences for royalty and revolutionising the concept of turnkey luxury design across continents. His story illuminates how true success in international design emerges not from imposing one's aesthetic, but from the delicate art of listening, adapting, and elevating each client's personal narrative into spatial poetry.
When I reflect on my journey from the social pages of Montreal and European newspapers to designing palaces for Middle Eastern royalty, I'm struck by how life's most extraordinary chapters often begin with the most unlikely phone calls. Mine came whilst I was still finding my feet in Miami, having just been featured in Architectural Digest Latin America as one of the top designers under thirty. The voice on the other end claimed to represent a member of Abu Dhabi's royal family who wished to meet me. Naturally, I hung up, convinced it was a prank.
Looking back, that moment of disbelief perfectly encapsulates the surreal trajectory my career has taken. Born into the Simard family of Sorel, Quebec, I grew up surrounded by a legacy of nation-building. My ancestors dredged the St. Lawrence River, constructed warships for both world wars, and helped establish one of Canada's primary political parties. Such heritage brings privilege, certainly, but also crushing expectations. As a child who preferred sketching dream homes to following lessons, I often wondered how I'd measure up to such towering achievements.
My path to design wasn't linear. After completing a BA in political science and economics at Concordia MBA, I finally mustered the courage to pursue what had captivated me since secondary school. Whilst teachers droned on about subjects that failed to hold my attention, I'd lose myself in drawings of imagined spaces, mentally transforming blank canvases into lived-in sanctuaries. This wasn't mere daydreaming; it was the early manifestation of what would become my life's work.
Through a period of intensive study at the International School of Design, I completed the full seven-year curriculum in only two years. This accelerated path provided the rigorous foundation I needed, with its emphasis on design and drafting over mere decoration. But theory alone doesn't build homes or careers. Seeking experience beyond Montreal's comfortable confines, I landed in Miami as an intern at STA Architectural Group. Those two years were gruelling, starting from the absolute basics: fabric libraries, material catalogues, the unglamorous groundwork that separates dilettantes from professionals.
My mentor's advice proved prescient: to excel as an architect and designer, one must understand construction from the ground up. This meant learning what lies behind walls, comprehending structural integrity, grasping how vision translates into steel, concrete, and glass. At FHL Design, I expanded my portfolio internationally, but it was that foundation of practical knowledge that would prove invaluable when opportunity knocked, quite literally, from across the globe.
The second call from Abu Dhabi came as I landed in Dubai for what was meant to be a casual visit to a friend. This time, the voice added an unnerving detail: "We know where you're staying." My friend, witnessing my bewilderment, urged me to take it seriously. Within hours, I found myself in Abu Dhabi, face to face with royalty, being commissioned to design a Moroccan palace.
That project marked the beginning of my Middle Eastern chapter and the birth of Finesse Interiors UAE. Moving my headquarters from Miami to Dubai wasn't merely a business decision; it was a complete reimagining of my professional identity. The cultural shift proved both exhilarating and challenging. Where North American clients might articulate their desires through mood boards and Pinterest, my new clientele communicated through tradition, heritage, and deeply rooted aesthetic principles.
The learning curve was steep. Communication styles differed dramatically. What might seem brusque or demanding to Western sensibilities was simply directness in Gulf culture. I had to recalibrate my understanding of client relationships, recognising that beneath apparent curtness often lay profound respect for expertise and craftsmanship. As a French-Canadian navigating Arabic business culture, every day brought lessons in patience, adaptation, and cultural sensitivity.
Yet what surprised me most was discovering the universal nature of design desires. Whether in Miami, Montreal, or Dubai, clients share common yearnings: they possess visions but lack the technical expertise to realise them. My company's ethos, "Your vision is our creation," emerged from this insight. We're not imposing predetermined aesthetics; we're translating dreams into tangible realities.
The Gulf market taught me invaluable lessons about cultural authenticity in design. Where European clients might favour minimalism or Americans gravitate towards open-plan living, my Middle Eastern clients brought deep connections to Arabic architectural traditions. Incorporating traditional elements whilst maintaining contemporary functionality became my specialty. This isn't about compromise; it's about elevation, taking cultural motifs and reimagining them for modern luxury living.
Dubai's market dynamics differ significantly from Western contexts. Ten years ago, property prices were substantially lower, but the subsequent boom hasn't reached the astronomical levels of London or Paris. A 30-million-dirham property sounds extravagant until you convert it to pounds or dollars and compare it to equivalent properties in Mayfair or the 8th arrondissement. What Dubai offers is value: for the price of a modest Parisian flat, one can acquire a waterfront villa with amenities unimaginable in space-constrained European capitals.
This value proposition extends to our services. We don't merely design; we build for resale potential. Every project considers future market appeal whilst serving current client needs. It's about maximising space without waste, enhancing built-up areas intelligently, and ensuring that personalisation doesn't compromise broad appeal. This dual focus requires constant education of clients who might otherwise fill their homes with marble and gold, mistaking opulence for value.
The pandemic transformed our industry in unexpected ways. When global lockdowns forced people to truly inhabit their homes, many experienced genuine shock. Spaces that had served merely as sophisticated dormitories suddenly required functionality, comfort, and aesthetic coherence. For designers, COVID represented an unprecedented opportunity. Clients who'd never prioritised their living environments suddenly understood that home isn't just where you sleep; it's where life unfolds.
This shift catalysed my expansion into custom furniture manufacturing. Recognising that true luxury lies in complete creative control, I established production facilities in Turkey, Milan, and the UAE. This vertical integration allows us to maintain quality standards whilst offering something revolutionary: seasonal interior updates. Just as wardrobes change with seasons, why shouldn't living spaces evolve? This concept, allowing clients to refresh their environments without enormous expense, has redefined how we approach residential design.
The turnkey solution we offer emerged from frustration with fragmented service delivery. Previously, we'd design magnificent spaces only to watch contractors compromise our visions through substandard execution. The decision to bring construction in-house wasn't just about quality control; it was about accountability. When clients invest millions in their dreams, they deserve singular responsibility and seamless execution.
This comprehensive approach has led to some extraordinary requests. I've designed indoor water slides connecting bedroom suites to basement pools in London townhouses, created controlled environments for exotic animals (species discretion maintained for obvious reasons), and engineered light-sensitive bedroom systems that respond to occupants' movements with carefully calibrated illumination. One client, suffering from extreme light sensitivity, required a custom system that would guide her to the bathroom at night using minimal, specially tinted lighting, accompanied by lavender-infused aromatherapy to ensure restful sleep.
Current trends reflect evolving wellness priorities. Home spas have transcended luxury to become necessity. Ultra-saunas, salt rooms, and cold plunge pools are standard requests. Just today, I met with a client requesting an aloe vera plunge pool, inspired by cutting-edge European wellness facilities. These aren't mere amenities; they represent fundamental shifts in how we conceptualise domestic space. Homes are becoming holistic wellness environments, supporting physical and mental health through thoughtful design.
Technology integration presents both opportunities and challenges. Smart home systems are no longer optional; they're fundamental to modern luxury living. Yet with innovation comes complexity. Clients struggle with systems that promise convenience but deliver frustration. Our role extends beyond installation to ongoing support, ensuring that technology enhances rather than complicates daily life. The key is invisible integration: technology should serve inhabitants seamlessly, never demanding attention or causing disruption.
Sustainability has evolved from buzzword to business imperative. Solar panels, once considered eyesores, now represent forward-thinking investment. In a region where air conditioning runs constantly, energy efficiency isn't environmental virtue-signalling; it's economic necessity. We prioritise LED lighting, solar energy systems, and advanced insulation. More critically, we emphasise proper waterproofing, a lesson learned through Dubai's occasional but devastating rainstorms. Clients who initially resist the minimal additional cost often thank us profusely when their neighbours face flooding whilst their homes remain pristine.
The human element remains paramount in our work. Over a decade, I've witnessed clients' lives unfold through their homes. I've designed bachelor pads that evolved into family homes, watched fortunes rise and fall, celebrated successes and provided shoulders during divorces. The intimacy of residential design means we become involuntary witnesses to life's dramas. When you're selecting bedroom linens or discussing bathroom layouts, you're privy to relationships' most private dynamics.
This emotional investment can be challenging. I've learned to maintain professional boundaries whilst remaining empathetic. When clients call at midnight panicking about colour choices, it's rarely about paint; it's about control in lives that feel chaotic. Our role transcends design; we're confidence builders, anxiety soothers, dream facilitators. The key is remembering that whilst we create the stages, our clients live the performances.
My approach to understanding clients has evolved considerably. Initial consultations now involve visiting their current homes, observing how they navigate space, noting what they touch, where their eyes linger. I remain silent, letting them guide me through their environments, revealing priorities through unconscious gestures. Where they pause speaks volumes; what they skip tells different stories. This observational methodology has become crucial to creating spaces that truly reflect inhabitants rather than imposed aesthetics.
Cultural considerations extend beyond aesthetic preferences. Russian clients often request billiard rooms and saunas, reflecting social traditions. British clients favour libraries and wine cellars. Emiratis might prioritise majlis spaces for formal gatherings. Americans want home theatres and expansive kitchens. These aren't stereotypes but cultural patterns that inform initial planning whilst leaving room for individual expression.
The challenge lies in managing expectations across cultural divides. A client accustomed to Manhattan pricing might find Dubai reasonable, whilst someone from Eastern Europe might experience sticker shock. We navigate these disparities through transparent communication, detailed breakdowns, and phased implementation options. Not every project requires immediate perfection; sometimes, building dream homes happens in chapters.
My own evolution mirrors the market's maturation. Early projects focused on proving capability; current work emphasises refinement and innovation. Where once I might have accepted any commission, I now select projects that align with our values and capabilities. This selectivity isn't arrogance; it's recognition that outstanding results require mutual respect and aligned visions.
The luxury market's future points towards increased personalisation and wellness integration. Clients no longer want homes that merely impress; they seek spaces that nurture, inspire, and evolve with their lives. This shift demands designers who understand psychology as much as aesthetics, who can translate unspoken needs into built environments.
Artificial intelligence looms large in industry discussions. Whilst AI can generate floor plans and suggest colour palettes, it cannot replicate human intuition or emotional intelligence. Our value lies not in technical drawings but in understanding what makes clients feel secure, inspired, or peaceful. No algorithm can decode the subtle tension in a couple's disagreement over kitchen islands or interpret the wistfulness in describing childhood homes.
My expansion into hospitality represents natural evolution. Hotels are essentially temporary homes, requiring the same attention to comfort and functionality with added durability considerations. Several projects currently under development will showcase residential sensibilities in commercial contexts, proving that luxury needn't sacrifice warmth for sophistication.
Beyond hospitality, my portfolio has expanded into even more specialised territories: the interiors of private jets and superyachts. These projects represent fascinating design challenges that differ fundamentally from residential work. Where a home offers generous space and structural flexibility, aircraft and maritime design demand millimetre precision and weight consciousness that would astonish most residential clients.
Jet interiors particularly test every assumption about luxury design. Every material must meet stringent aviation safety standards whilst maintaining aesthetic excellence. A marble countertop that would be standard in a Palm villa becomes an engineering puzzle at 40,000 feet. Weight restrictions mean we calculate down to the gram, selecting materials that provide maximum visual impact with minimal mass. The psychology differs too. Clients spend limited time in these spaces, demanding immediate impact rather than the slow reveal appropriate for homes.
Yacht design presents different constraints. Unlike static residences, everything must withstand constant motion, salt air corrosion, and extreme humidity. Fixtures that would last decades in a Dubai villa might deteriorate within months at sea. We've developed expertise in marine-grade materials that maintain luxury aesthetics whilst surviving harsh maritime environments. Storage becomes even more critical; every item needs secure positioning to prevent movement in rough seas.
The fascinating aspect is how these mobile projects inform our residential work. Yacht storage solutions, necessarily compact and ingenious, inspire space-saving innovations in apartments. The weight consciousness from aviation projects encourages us to question every material choice, often discovering lighter, more sustainable alternatives. The durability requirements of marine environments have led us to specify better-performing materials in homes, particularly for outdoor spaces.
Perhaps most intriguingly, the client psychology differs dramatically across these project types. In homes, we're creating permanent sanctuaries where life unfolds over years. In jets and yachts, we're designing temporary escapes, transition spaces between life's chapters. This requires different emotional responses: homes should soothe and ground, whilst jets and yachts can be more dramatic, even theatrical. They're stages for specific experiences rather than daily life.
The decision to co-found NuviNest with Caroline Stanbury might seem like departure from core business, but it reflects the same philosophy: enhancing life's daily experiences through thoughtful design. Pet furniture represents another touchpoint where design meets lifestyle. If we're creating holistic living environments, why exclude family members simply because they have four legs?
Looking ahead, I see continued market growth but with increased sophistication. Clients are better informed, more design-literate, and consequently more demanding. This elevation of expectation challenges us to continually innovate, pushing boundaries whilst maintaining quality standards. The easy projects are disappearing; what remains requires genuine expertise and creative vision.
Success in this market demands flexibility. When a client calls requesting complete renovation of a just-completed project, frustration is natural but counterproductive. If they're willing to invest in change, our role is facilitation, not judgment. I've rebuilt the same spaces multiple times for clients whose visions evolved. Rather than viewing this as failure, I see it as relationship building. Trust emerges from willingness to support clients' journeys, wherever they lead.
The pandemic taught valuable lessons about adaptability. Projects paused mid-construction required creative solutions. Supply chain disruptions demanded sourcing alternatives. Client priorities shifted from entertainment spaces to home offices overnight. Those who survived emerged stronger, with expanded capabilities and deeper client relationships.
My team has grown from a handful of specialists to a comprehensive organisation spanning multiple countries. Each member brings specific expertise, from traditional craftspeople maintaining heritage techniques to technology specialists ensuring cutting-edge integration. Managing such diversity requires clear communication and shared vision. Regular training ensures consistent quality across projects and locations.
Financial considerations permeate every decision. Whilst unlimited budgets sound appealing, they often lead to poor choices. Constraints force creativity, pushing us to find innovative solutions within parameters. Some of our most successful projects emerged from tight budgets that demanded ingenuity over extravagance. The discipline required serves clients well, ensuring every dirham delivers value.
Regarding bureaucracy, Dubai's regulations can seem onerous to newcomers. Permits, approvals, and building codes create complex navigation requirements. Yet these exist for good reasons, ensuring safety and maintaining community standards. Our role includes managing these requirements seamlessly, shielding clients from administrative burdens whilst ensuring complete compliance.
The physical demands of this work are often underestimated. Site visits in Dubai's summer heat, climbing scaffolding in work clothes, spending hours selecting materials; it's far from glamorous. Yet these hands-on elements ensure quality. No detail escapes attention when you're personally overseeing installation. Clients appreciate this dedication, knowing their projects receive constant oversight.
Relationships with suppliers and craftspeople prove crucial. A delayed marble shipment or unavailable fabric can derail timelines. We maintain extensive networks, ensuring alternatives and solutions for any contingency. These relationships, built over years, represent invaluable business assets. When challenges arise, having suppliers who prioritise your projects makes enormous differences.
The emotional toll of this work varies. Celebrating clients' successes brings joy; witnessing failures proves difficult. I've seen marriages crumble during renovations, stress revealing fundamental incompatibilities. I've watched successful entrepreneurs lose everything, forcing sales of dream homes we'd just completed. These experiences teach humility and perspective. Success is fleeting; what matters is how we support each other through changes.
Cultural integration continues evolving. What shocked me initially now seems natural. The directness I once found abrasive I now appreciate as efficiency. The emphasis on family and tradition that seemed constraining I recognise as grounding. Dubai has changed me fundamentally, teaching lessons about resilience, adaptation, and growth that no Western city could provide.
My French-Canadian heritage remains influential. The attention to detail, appreciation for craftsmanship, and insistence on quality reflect cultural values instilled from childhood. Yet these have merged with acquired traits: Middle Eastern hospitality, American entrepreneurialism, European sophistication. This synthesis creates our distinctive approach, honouring multiple traditions whilst forging something new.
The Palm Jumeirah has become our signature location. These properties represent Dubai's ambition: creating paradise where none existed, transforming vision into reality through determination and innovation. Working on Palm villas feels appropriate, given our parallel journey of building something extraordinary from ambitious beginnings. Each project adds to the area's evolution from curiosity to established luxury destination.
Signature villas present particular opportunities. These aren't mere houses but statements, reflecting owners' achievements and aspirations. The responsibility of creating spaces worthy of such significance weighs heavily. Yet it also inspires, pushing us to exceed previous achievements. When clients invest tens of millions, mediocrity isn't acceptable. Every detail must reflect extraordinary standards.
Current projects span continents, each presenting distinct challenges. London's planning restrictions demand creative solutions within heritage contexts. Parisian apartments require respecting architectural integrity whilst modernising functionality. Los Angeles homes need earthquake considerations alongside aesthetic concerns. This geographical diversity keeps work stimulating, preventing creative stagnation.
The joy of this profession lies in transformation. Watching empty shells become homes, seeing clients' faces when revealing completed spaces, knowing we've created environments where lives will unfold; these moments justify all challenges. It's not about monuments to ego but creating stages for human experience. The best designs disappear, supporting life rather than dominating it.
Mistakes taught valuable lessons. Early in my career, I'd impose preferences, convinced my aesthetic superior. Clients would acquiesce but live unhappily in spaces reflecting my vision, not theirs. Learning to suppress ego in favour of empathy transformed my practice. Now, success means clients forgetting I exist, living naturally in spaces that feel inherently theirs.
The business side demands equal attention. Creative vision means nothing without financial viability. Understanding pricing, managing cash flow, negotiating contracts; these skills prove as crucial as design talent. Many gifted designers fail through poor business management. Surviving requires balancing artistic integrity with commercial reality.
Staff development represents ongoing investment. The industry evolves rapidly; what seemed innovative yesterday appears dated today. Regular training, conference attendance, and skill development ensure we remain current. More importantly, nurturing young talent ensures continuity. Several team members who started as interns now lead major projects. Watching their growth provides deep satisfaction.
Personal life inevitably intertwines with professional demands. This career doesn't respect boundaries; inspiration strikes during dinners; solutions emerge during sleepless nights. Partners must understand that living with a designer means constant observation, mental renovation of every space entered. My own Dubai residence serves as a living laboratory, incorporating lessons from thousands of projects whilst remaining in perpetual evolution.
The sustainability conversation has matured beyond token gestures. Clients increasingly request genuine environmental consideration: verified supply chains, materials that age gracefully, designs anticipating decades of use. Water recycling systems for fountains in desert climates, solar integration that actually reduces costs, biophilic design connecting inhabitants to nature — these represent thoughtful engineering underlying surface beauty.
Material selection now tells stories. Clients want provenance, craftspeople's names, extraction methods. The shift towards conscious consumption has transformed supplier relationships. Similarly, technology integration has grown more sophisticated. Early adopters wanted every possible feature; current clients prefer selective automation that genuinely enhances daily life without overwhelming users.
The art of budget conversations requires delicacy and transparency. Our detailed pricing matrices help clients understand where money goes, preventing scope creep and building trust. When people comprehend true costs, they make better decisions and feel more satisfied with outcomes.
Looking back on this decade-long journey, what strikes me most is how Dubai has fundamentally changed my approach. The cultural adaptation that initially challenged me has become second nature. The city's ambition and constant reinvention mirror my own professional evolution. From that first bewildering phone call claiming royal interest to managing projects across continents, each step built upon previous experience whilst embracing new challenges.
Success, I've discovered, isn't measured in project scale or client prestige. It's found in transformative moments: a child's delight in their new room, elderly parents navigating accessible spaces with dignity, newlyweds hosting their first gathering. These human connections justify every challenge and remind me why I chose this demanding profession.
The future holds continued expansion and evolving challenges. Climate change demands fundamental rethinking of building practices. Technological advancement threatens traditional skills whilst offering unprecedented possibilities. Yet the fundamental human need for shelter that nurtures and inspires remains constant. People will always seek spaces reflecting their values and providing sanctuary.
My journey from sketching dream homes in Montreal classrooms to building palaces in the desert sometimes seems implausible. The boy reading society pages with his grandmother, dreaming of joining those accomplished ranks, could never have imagined this reality. But perhaps that's the beauty of allowing life to unfold organically, saying yes to unexpected opportunities even when they seem like pranks.
As I prepare for tomorrow's flight to yet another confidential project, I'm reminded that this work is never complete. Each commission brings fresh challenges and opportunities for growth. The learning never stops, the challenges never cease, and the satisfaction of creating dream spaces never diminishes. This is the life I chose — or perhaps it chose me. Either way, I wouldn't exchange it for anything.
In this constantly evolving landscape of luxury design, one truth remains: homes aren't just structures but sanctuaries where life's most precious moments unfold. Our role extends beyond aesthetic choices to creating stages for human experience. Every detail contributes to this larger purpose. We craft the settings for life itself, one carefully considered detail at a time.
