Can’t Find the Right Furniture? Have It Made

TORI MELLOTT, who was the decorating editor at the now-shuttered Domino magazine, lives in a West Village one-bedroom apartment that is the anti-Ikea.

She is among a small group of people who don’t, when they are craving a certain kind of furniture, simply go out and buy it; she has it made and is a self-described “custom junkie.”

The queen-size bed in her apartment was custom built by Avery Boardman. Her gray tufted sofa, white-lacquer Parsons tables, gold-trimmed coffee table and ceramic lamps are all custom.

“If you’re comparing price with Ikea, it’s much more for custom,” Ms. Mellott said. “But I’ll have that sofa the rest of my life. I do think classic design travels with you.”

That is, when it’s done correctly. Custom furniture can cost the same or even less than its counterparts in a retail store, but it is easy to make a mistake.

Ms. Mellott has experienced missteps in her quest for a made-to-measure space. “I didn’t do enough homework on my Roman shades,” she lamented. “I made them in haste and messed up the proportions. They look wimpy.”

Designers, fabricators and devotees of custom furniture suggest a number of tactics to make sure that your custom piece does not end up being a disappointment.

Ms. Mellott recommended asking a lot of questions and working with designers and fabricators who ask questions. “You don’t want to leave anything to chance,” she said. “Don’t say, ‘Oh, 72 inches sounds about right.’ No. Don’t be lazy.”

Billy Cotton, who runs a furniture design firm in Brooklyn called Custom Resource, has a mantra for anyone contemplating having something custom made.

“Custom is a leap of faith,” said Mr. Cotton, standing in a dusty wood shop in Greenpoint the other morning next to a half-finished, black-lacquer Parsons night table being built for a client.

Not a reassuring thought for someone who is intrigued, but utterly mystified, by the process. I’ve been hunting for a Milo Baughman-style coffee table — burl wood, square, sort of butterscotch in color — for months, with no luck. I can’t find one new on the market, and vintage examples on 1stDibs.com run upward of $5,000. So lately I’ve considered having the table made — a décor move I tend to associate with famously imperious architects or wealthy types like Rupert Murdoch, who some years ago commissioned custom furniture for his former digs, a multimillion-dollar SoHo penthouse.

My penthouse apartment is worth a bit less, is not in SoHo, and in fact is not a penthouse. And while my design skills are improving, in evolutionary décor terms I’m two steps removed from the movie-poster-and-milk-crate stage. So it seemed wise to educate myself on the ins and outs of custom furniture before taking a leap of faith and winding up with a two-legged table.

Mr. Cotton, who sold furniture in the flea markets of Paris before starting a design business with a classmate from Pratt five years ago, counseled that regardless of what is commissioned, it’s important to first consider every detail. “People will ask me to build a wall unit and say, ‘I want four drawers and two shelves, and that’s it,’ ” he said. “Well, what about the dimensions of the drawers? What kind of hardware? Those details matter when it’s in your home.”

He suggested gathering source photos from books and magazines, and researching materials. Making sure proportions are exact is also crucial, especially in New York, where custom pieces are often designed to fit small or oddly shaped spaces. (A piece of cardboard can be cut to size to get a sense of how something will look in a space.)

Alexandra Schwartz, an art dealer who lives in Manhattan, hired Mr. Cotton to build her a credenza after searching in vain for one that would fit perfectly into her dining room. Made of stained ash with blackened metal hardware and red lacquer drawers, the piece is modeled on another custom design featured on Mr. Cotton’s Web site.

For Ms. Schwartz, being able to see an existing version was reassuring. “I think the more information you have before it goes into production, the better,” she said.

She also viewed wood and paint samples in her apartment to make sure the finishes fit with the décor, which “made a huge difference,” especially since the piece cost nearly $5,000 — less than vintage credenzas she priced but a figure that leaves little room for disappointment.