You’ve got vision

You might not fully understand what you're working with yet. And without that clarity, every other decision becomes harder.

Here's what often gets missed.

You might know your block size. But the buildable area after setbacks tells a different story. A 700 sqm block might only give you 400 sqm of actual building footprint. Understanding this early helps align your vision with what's actually achievable.

You might know you have some slope. But slope impacts foundation costs in ways most people don't expect. Gentle slope can add $20K to $40K. Moderate slope adds $50K to $80K. Steep slope can add $100K plus. These costs usually aren't included in your building quote until after you've committed to the design.

You might know which way your block faces. But orientation affects how rooms feel throughout the day. Living areas facing west get intense afternoon heat. Bedrooms facing east get harsh morning light. The floor plan you're imagining might need adjusting to work comfortably with your orientation.

You might have heard about easements. But knowing exactly where they are matters more than you'd think. An easement is a zone where you cannot build. If there's one cutting across your block, it genuinely changes what's possible.

Council overlays can surprise people. You might buy a block thinking it's straightforward, then discover it's in a heritage conservation area with material restrictions. Or a bushfire-prone zone with specific compliance requirements. Or a flood risk area needing raised floor levels. These aren't small adjustments - they shape your design from the ground up.

Without understanding these elements, you might invest time and money in a design before knowing what's actually possible. Then discover constraints that require significant changes or even starting over.

We worked with a family who fell in love with a single-storey sprawling farmhouse design. They'd been planning it for months. When we properly assessed their block, we found narrow frontage with side setbacks that meant they could only build 10 metres wide. Their dream design needed 18 metres. We had to reimagine the entire approach. It took six more months, but we got them something that worked beautifully for their block.

You have a number in your head. But that number might not reflect what things actually cost. And the gap between expectations and reality is where stress happens.

Here's what's worth knowing.

Construction costs aren't one simple figure you can Google. They vary significantly by location, quality, complexity, and timing. The "$2,500 per sqm" you might have read somewhere could be for a basic project home in a different area with none of the features you're imagining.

Custom builds in the Camden Macarthur area typically run $2,800 to $3,500 per sqm for good quality work. High-end can be $4,000 plus. If you're budgeting based on $2,500, there's already a gap before you've even started.

Then there's everything beyond the building cost itself. Site works. Driveways. Landscaping. Fencing. Retaining walls if you have slope. These easily add $60K to $120K depending on your site. They're essential, and they're not in your builder's quote.

Design fees sit outside the build budget. Custom design packages start at $5,950 and go up to $17,500 if you want full interior design integration. Add construction documentation, engineering if your site needs it, council fees, certifier fees - these add up to $15K to $30K.

Connection fees for water, sewer, and power are another $10K to $20K. Temporary power and facilities during the build are $5K to $8K. Soil tests, surveys, site inspections - a few thousand more.

When you add it all up, you need to budget 25% to 30% on top of your building quote for everything else. If you're thinking your build is $500K, the realistic total project budget is $625K to $650K.

Many people focus on the building cost and don't realise everything else adds up so significantly. It's not intentional - it's just that no one's explained the full picture yet.

The other challenge is when the wish list doesn't match the budget. Four bedrooms, three bathrooms, a butler's pantry, high ceilings, quality finishes, outdoor entertaining - that's closer to a $700K to $800K house than a $500K one. But it's hard to know that until you've properly priced it.

We worked with a couple who came to us with a $600K budget and a Pinterest board full of beautiful ideas that would realistically cost $900K to build. They'd been planning for eighteen months based on assumptions that didn't match reality. We helped them identify what mattered most and found ways to capture the essence of their vision within their actual budget. It was a difficult conversation, but having it early meant they could adjust expectations thoughtfully rather than being forced to compromise halfway through the build.

The challenge with this gap is either needing to make difficult compromises mid-build when reality hits, or discovering you need to save longer before starting. Both are manageable - they're just easier to navigate when you know early.

You've got ideas. You've saved Pinterest images. You can picture elements you love. But turning inspiration into concrete decisions is different work.

Here's what still needs to happen.

You haven't separated must-haves from nice-to-haves based on how you actually live. You've got a list of features that sound wonderful - a butler's pantry, a media room, a freestanding bath, high ceilings. But you haven't tested whether you'll genuinely use these things daily or whether they're more aspirational than practical.

You haven't thought through the actual flow of your daily life. Where does everything land when you walk in the door? School bags, keys, shopping? How do you move from the kitchen to outdoor spaces when you're carrying food? Where do kids do homework? Where do you work from home? These aren't aesthetic questions - they're functional ones that determine whether your house actually works for you.

You haven't reconciled the different styles in your Pinterest board. Farmhouse images and Hamptons images and modern images and industrial images - they don't naturally blend into one cohesive home. They need intentional integration, or the result feels confused.

You haven't considered how your needs will evolve. Are you planning for kids? For kids growing into teenagers? For ageing parents? For long-term work-from-home? A house designed for today might not work for five years from now, and you're about to lock in design decisions for decades.

Without this clarity, there's a risk of designing for the aspirational version of your life rather than your actual life. Then living in it and realising it doesn't quite work. The formal lounge you never use. The open plan that's too open. The ensuite that's too big. The storage that's not where you need it.

We see this regularly. People who designed based on what looked good rather than what made sense for them. They're living with spaces that don't quite fit, and changing them would require major renovation.

You think you know what you want. You've saved hundreds of Pinterest images. You've described your vision to friends. You can picture your dream home.

But you haven't done the hard work of turning vague ideas into actual decisions. And that gap costs you.

Here's what's missing.

You haven't separated must-haves from nice to haves based on how you actually live. You've got a list of features that sound good. A butler's pantry. A media room. A freestanding bath. High ceilings. But you haven't tested whether you'll actually use these things daily or whether they're just aspirational.

You haven't thought through the actual flow of your daily life. Where does chaos land when you walk in the door? Where do school bags, keys, and shopping actually go? How do you move from the kitchen to the outdoor space when you're carrying food? Where do kids do homework? Where do you work from home? These aren't aesthetic questions. They're functional questions that determine whether your house works.

You haven't reconciled the different styles in your Pinterest board. You've saved farmhouse images and Hampton images and modern images and industrial images. These don't blend together into one cohesive home. They create a confused design that doesn't feel like anything.

You haven't thought about how your needs will change. Are you planning for kids? For kids growing into teenagers? For ageing parents? For working from home long term? A house designed for today might not work for five years from now, and you're about to lock in design decisions for decades.

The cost of this gap is designing a house for the aspirational version of your life instead of your actual life. Then living in it and realising it doesn't work. The formal lounge you never use. The open plan that's too open. The ensuite that's too big. The storage that's not where you need it. You can't undo these once you're living there.

We see this constantly. People who designed based on what looked good, not what made sense for them. They're living with regret, they can't fix without major renovation.

The building process has more stages and takes more time than most people expect. Without understanding the full timeline, you might make decisions based on assumptions that don't match reality.

Here's how it actually works.

Design takes months, not weeks. If you're going custom, expect three to six months from first meeting to construction-ready plans. That's the time it takes to create something bespoke, work through options, refine details, coordinate engineering, and get everything documented properly.

Council approval takes two to four months minimum. Sometimes six months if you're in an area with overlays, if council requests changes, if neighbours lodge objections. This process has set timeframes you can't rush.

The build itself is typically a year minimum for anything over 200 sqm. Sixteen to eighteen months is more realistic for quality work. Twenty-four months isn't unusual for larger or complex homes.

Add it up and you're looking at two and a half years from starting design to moving in. Not twelve months. Not eighteen months. Two and a half years is a realistic minimum.

If you've been thinking twelve to eighteen months total, or telling yourself you'll be in your new home by next Christmas, or need to be out of your current place by a certain date - that timeline might not be achievable.

Understanding this early means you can plan properly rather than feeling constantly behind schedule or making rushed decisions trying to hit an unrealistic timeline.

There's also the sequence of things. When do you engage a builder? Earlier than most people think - you want builder input during design, not after. When do you make selections? Months before you might expect - long lead times on some items mean ordering before construction even starts. When can you change your mind? Less often than you'd hope - once certain stages are locked in, changes become expensive variations.

Without understanding the process, you're constantly reacting rather than planning ahead. Discovering things later than ideal. Sometimes paying more because decisions are being made at the wrong stage.

If you've been in planning mode for more than a year and still haven't taken the next step, that's worth acknowledging.

Something's creating hesitation. Usually it's one of three things.

One, you don't have the clarity you need to feel confident. You're gathering information because you sense there's more to understand. You keep researching but it never quite feels like enough.

Two, you're overwhelmed by how many decisions lie ahead. Every time you try to move forward, you realise there's more to consider. The process feels complex. You pause.

Three, you're waiting for perfect clarity before committing. But perfect clarity doesn't really exist in building - there's always some element of trust required. So you stay in planning mode.

The challenge with staying in planning mode is opportunity cost. Every month you wait is a month of rent or mortgage you're paying on your current place. A month of construction costs potentially increasing. A month of your life not living in the home you want. Mental energy spent on something that hasn't happened yet.

We've worked with people who've been planning for two, three, even five years. They know what they want. They just can't quite move forward. Usually it's because they're missing some foundational clarity and aren't sure how to get it.

That's exactly what a consultation addresses - giving you the specific clarity you need to move forward confidently, or understand what still needs to happen before you're ready.