Why Texas State Interior Design is Harder Than You Think

Why Texas State Interior Design is Harder Than You Think

If you’re looking at the interior design program at Texas State University, you’ve probably seen the glossy photos of sleek commercial offices and high-end residential layouts. It looks fun. It looks creative. Honestly, it looks like a blast. But there is a massive gap between "loving Pinterest" and surviving the CIDA-accredited gauntlet in San Marcos.

Texas State interior design isn’t just about picking out velvet swatches or finding the perfect greige for a living room wall. It’s about building codes. It’s about fire safety. It’s about the psychology of how a person moves through a hospital corridor without feeling like they’re in a horror movie. If you walk into the Family and Consumer Sciences building thinking you’re just going to "decorate," the first semester of drafting will punch you right in the gut.

People get this wrong all the time. They think interior design is a subset of "home decor." It’s not. At Texas State, it’s closer to architecture’s younger, more detail-oriented sibling. You aren’t just making things pretty; you’re making them functional, legal, and safe.


The Reality of the CIDA Accreditation

You’ll hear the acronym CIDA tossed around constantly. It stands for the Council for Interior Design Accreditation. This is the gold standard. Texas State’s program is vetted by them, which sounds like a dry piece of bureaucratic trivia until you realize what it actually means for your life.

It means the standards are punishing.

The faculty—led by experienced practitioners like Dr. Asha Hegde or Assistant Professor Holly S. Hernandez—aren't just there to grade your color theory. They are preparing you for the NCIDQ (National Council for Interior Design Qualification) exam. This is the licensure that separates a professional designer from someone who just has a "good eye."

Students often spend 40 to 60 hours a week in the studio. It’s a grind. You will see the sun go down and come back up through the windows of the FCS building. It’s a culture of crit. You pin your work to the wall, and experts tell you why your egress plan is a death trap or why your lighting schedule is physically impossible to install. It’s brutal, but it’s why Texas State grads get hired by the big firms in Austin, Dallas, and Houston.

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The Studio Culture: More Than Just Drawing

Most people imagine a classroom. In reality, it’s a lab. It’s a chaotic, beautiful mess of Revit models, CAD drawings, and physical material boards. You’ll be working on "Studio I" through "Studio VI," each one scaling up in complexity.

By the time you hit the upper-level studios, you aren't just designing a "room." You’re designing a mixed-use retail space that has to comply with ADA (Americans with Disabilities Act) standards to the millimeter. You’re calculating the reflectance values of surfaces. You’re worrying about the VOC (Volatile Organic Compounds) levels in the carpet glue you specified.

It is technical. It is rigorous. And if your Revit file crashes at 3:00 AM because you didn’t purge your unused families, you’ll learn a lesson about digital hygiene that no textbook can teach.

Why the "Interior Decorator" Label is an Insult

If you want to annoy a Texas State interior design major, call them a decorator.

Seriously.

Decorating is the finishing touch. It’s the pillows. Design is the bones. When you study at Texas State, you’re learning about structural systems. You’re learning how to read a mechanical plan to make sure your dropped ceiling doesn't interfere with the HVAC ducts.

Think about a neonatal intensive care unit (NICU). A decorator chooses the color of the rockers. A designer determines the acoustic ceiling tiles needed to keep the decibel levels low enough for a premature baby’s brain to develop properly. They calculate the slip-resistance of the flooring to ensure nurses don’t fall during an emergency. They understand the antimicrobial properties of the textiles used on the chairs.

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That is the level of depth the program demands.

The Portfolio Review: The Great Filter

There is a moment in the Texas State program that strikes fear into everyone: the sophomore portfolio review.

It’s the gatekeeper.

Basically, you complete your foundation courses, and then you submit your best work to be judged by the faculty. Not everyone gets through. If your technical drawing skills aren't up to par, or if your design logic is shaky, you don't move on to the professional-level courses.

It feels harsh. It is harsh. But it ensures that the people graduating from the program actually know how to do the job. The industry is competitive. Firms like Gensler or Perkins&Will don’t have time to teach you how to use a scale ruler. They expect you to hit the ground running.

Sustainability is Not Optional

You can't talk about Texas State interior design without talking about sustainability. This isn't just "greenwashing." The program leans heavily into LEED (Leadership in Energy and Environmental Design) principles and WELL building standards.

You’ll spend hours researching "biophilic design"—the idea that humans have an innate need to connect with nature. This isn't just putting a plant in a corner. It’s about circadian lighting that mimics the sun’s movement to help office workers stay alert. It’s about using reclaimed materials that don’t off-gas toxic chemicals into the air.

Texas is a state of extremes. Heat, drought, and rapid urban sprawl. Designing for this environment requires a specific kind of intelligence. You have to think about thermal mass and how a building in San Antonio can stay cool without running the AC at 100% all day.

The San Marcos Advantage

Being located between Austin and San Antonio is a massive perk. Austin is a tech hub; San Antonio is a healthcare giant. These are the two biggest markets for interior designers right now.

Texas State students often land internships at major firms in these cities. You’re close enough to drive in for a site visit or a networking event with the local IIDA (International Interior Design Association) chapter.

Networking is everything.

The professors know this. They bring in guest speakers who are actually out there doing the work. You’ll hear from people who designed the latest Silicon Hills tech campus or a boutique hotel on the Riverwalk. They don't sugarcoat it. They tell you about the budget overruns, the nightmare contractors, and the clients who change their minds three days before the grand opening.

The Software Gap

If you aren't tech-savvy, start practicing now.

The days of hand-rendering with markers aren't totally dead—Texas State still values the ability to sketch a quick idea—but the heavy lifting is done in BIM (Building Information Modeling).

You will live in Autodesk Revit. You will dabble in Rhino, Grasshopper, and Enscape for real-time rendering. You’ll use the Adobe Creative Suite to make your presentations look professional.

It’s a lot of software to master. It’s frustrating. But when you walk into an interview and can show a 3D walkthrough of a space you designed, complete with accurate lighting and material textures, you’re lightyears ahead of someone who only knows how to use SketchUp.

Making it Through: Tips for the Exhausted

  1. Invest in a high-end laptop. Don't try to run Revit on a $400 budget machine. It will catch fire. You need RAM. You need a dedicated graphics card.
  2. Learn to love the "Crit." When a professor tears your project apart, they aren't attacking you. They’re attacking the design. If you can’t defend your choices with logic—not just "I liked it"—you need to rethink the choice.
  3. Join the student organizations. ASID (American Society of Interior Designers) and IIDA are your lifelines. The older students have the "inside scoop" on which classes are the hardest and where to get the cheapest foam board for models.
  4. Sleep when you can. The "all-nighter" is a badge of honor in the studio, but your brain stops being creative after 22 hours without sleep. Manage your time. Plan for things to go wrong.

Actionable Insights for Prospective Students

If you're serious about pursuing Texas State interior design, stop thinking about colors and start thinking about systems.

First, go to the campus and walk through the FCS building. Look at the student work pinned up in the hallways. Look at the technical drawings—the floor plans, the elevations, the schedules. Can you see yourself doing that for hours on end? If the answer is a resounding "yes," then you’re in the right place.

Second, start learning the basics of AutoCAD or Revit before you even start the program. There are thousands of free tutorials online. Getting a head start on the software will save you from a complete meltdown during your first studio.

Finally, understand the difference between residential and commercial design. Texas State has a strong emphasis on the commercial side—offices, hospitals, schools. While you can certainly go into residential work, the program is designed to produce high-level professionals capable of handling massive, complex projects.

This isn't just a degree. It's a vocational transformation. By the time you walk across that stage at Strahan Arena, you won't just be a graduate; you'll be a designer ready to shape the environments where people live, work, and heal. It’s a huge responsibility. And Texas State is one of the best places to learn how to carry it.

Check the current degree plan on the official Texas State website, as requirements for the CIDA standards are updated periodically to reflect new building codes and technology. Connect with the local ASID Texas Chapter to find a mentor early on; having someone in the field to talk to can make the academic grind feel much more purposeful.