"His parents took the kids to Europe, and I took myself back to school," she says. "The kids and I would all do our homework together on the dining room table."

Even when she was still a student at the New York School of Interior Design, Joie's background came to the foreground; she wasn't surprised to be asked to teach the class on the History of Furniture, and she happily took the class to the Old Merchants House to show them the furniture there from the 19th-century.

Soon, Joie was supporting herself and her daughters with her design work, concentrating whenever possible on the 18th century. In additon, one or two mornings each week she lectures at the National Society of Colonial Dames, a historical and educational organization of descendants of settlers who arrived on the Mayflower and were prominent in pre-Civil War America.

"I can go on for hours about the differences between ball and claw feet," she says.

The Society in New York has a building on 71st Street, with a collection of American furniture that dates up to 1770 in one room, and wallpaper that dates to 1730 in another.

"I lecture and talk about their collection, mostly to school groups," Joie says. "The kids are fun, but I really do it because I get to touch the stuff."

Joie is certainly a woman who attends to details, which may be one reason she is so drawn to the 18th century, a period known for its emphasis on details. Joie even likes finding and using the terminology from the period to refer to the furniture of that time, using words like "settle," and "rush-bottom chair" and "looking glass."

Despite this passion for the period, Joie knows that the mark of a good designer is someone who can work with a client no matter how the client's taste may differ from her own.

"The trick is that I'm not fancy enough to be hired for my own look or my own style," she says. "So I have to do what I'm told. The steady income comes from doing what I'm told."

Because she understands the importance of creating good relationships with her clients, Joie tells her Sheffield students to get as much of this kind of hands-on experience as they can while they prepare to graduate from the Course.

"The Course is great, but for hands-on, nitty-gritty experience, they should work with a designer," she says.

In part, this is because the design field can be so emotionally charged; it isn't just a matter of ordering fabric and measuring rooms. Joie cites one case of an 89-year-old client who hadn't bought anything since 1957, and was shocked to learn that silk damask could no longer be had for $5 a yard, but cost closer to $100 a yard.

"You're dealing with people's lives, with something they'll look at every day, and you're often dealing with a lot of money. And once the husbands get into the act, that's even more fun."

Joie copes with clients by being doggedly straightforward, so they'll know ahead of time what to expect.

"You have to be a straight-shooter. Be completely upfront with them - it's painful at first, but that way there are no surprises; clients hate surprises," she says. In the Sheffield Course, we teach all students to help their clients anticipate what lies ahead in the design process.

Joie's fierce spirit is deeply rooted in her childhood. Her parents, wanting a boy, named her what they hoped would be a feminized version of "Joey," spelling her name "Joie." But in third grade French class, little Joie learned that with a different pronunciation her name would mean "Joy," and since then she's pronounced it that way, in a move she calls "total pretense."

Pretense or not, it seems to work for her, and that works for Sheffield!