To make lives of the less fortunate better, I have gotten dressed up, teetered around a party in too-high heels while balancing a glass of champagne, and written a check. I have also put on old jeans and a baseball cap, rolled paint and hung blinds.
And I will tell you which one is better. Hands down it’s hands on.
Top Los Angeles designer Mark Brunetz and I think alike. “Designers get a little weary of always dealing with the luxury market,” he told me recently, “but that’s the nature of the business.”
He was referring to clients whose biggest problems are whether they want granite or marble, leather or suede, 5-inch or 6-inch moldings. Meanwhile, others are worrying about issues like bed or sidewalk.
To help offset that, Brunetz is championing Design for a Difference, a contest for designers, both professional and amateur, who want to makeover downtrodden spaces that serve those in need.
“There’s a legitimate perception that design is for the affluent,” said Brunetz, whom many know as the former TV host of Style Network’s “Clean House,” “but I have always been a big fan of designing for the masses.”
The winner of this year’s Design for a Difference will get $25,000 to invest in the needy space and a team of volunteers, including Brunetz, to get the job done. International Design Guild, an alliance of floor covering companies with 100 showrooms in North America, puts up the money.
Last year’s top winner, Transitions for Women, a center in Spokane, Wash., that helps poor and homeless women and their children, got the first renovation. Several regional winners received smaller sums, which helped them makeover a food pantry in Indiana, a human rights center for refugees in Utah, and a therapeutic horseback riding center for at-risk youths in Kansas.
As I heard about this, all I could think was: I’m a selfish sloth and need to do more.
Then I watched the heartening video of the Transitions project, www.help4women.org, and recalled a few years ago when I walked into a woman’s shelter in Denver that was filled to capacity with a wait list. The staff was doing the important work of giving abused women and their children shelter, food, protection, and a way out. However, the decor, sadly, reflected the women — worn out and beaten down.
My first instinct was to bolt. “I can’t fix this,” I thought, overwhelmed. Instead, I took home a battered nightstand, which I sanded, painted, and dressed with a new crystal knob. It was not much, but it was something. Eventually, I adopted a room.
Please, I am not holding myself out as some paragon of charity. I can and should do more. And Brunetz has reminded me of what I — and we all — can do: