SINCE its early days, AIDS Concern had many offices. None by design, however. Notebooks and folders found homes in the Mid-Levels, and car boots doubled as storage lockers for books and stationary supplies . But borrowing living rooms for fund-raising meetings or carrying on face-to-face counselling in coffee shops and on park benches wears down even the most organised and generous individual. After hosting the telephone Helpline volunteers in his home for 16 months, one volunteer booted them out. Then the guilt set in. Ian McFadzean agreed to co-ordinate the drive to outfit and furnish the new centre, slated for Chai Wan. He succeeded. Now AIDS Concern executive director Lisa Ross has a desk with drawers, not to mention a permanent telephone. And the army of volunteers as well as the community have an address, good for several years. Next Thursday, the 3,000-sq ft AIDS Concern Service Centre opens officially in the new Pamela Youde Hospital Complex, Lok Man Road. The three-bedroom, two bathroom flat was provided by the Government Property Agency. The group pays a token rent of $1 per year. The ambience and decor have nothing to do with anything clinical or sterile. The carpeting and drapery, the muted colours and the Oriental scrolls invite a tranquil feel. Counselling is conducted in a room where sofas in floral print and stuffed reading chairs are arranged for conversation and relaxation. In asking for help, the public has opened their pockets and professionals have donated their expertise. ''Everything from the technical help needed to design a floor plan and layout to the decor, furnishings and office equipment has been donated or givenat cost,'' said Ms Ross. An expense undertaken by the group was the bill for $1,800, needed to pay for the silk-screened list of acknowledgements on the entry hall mirror. Mr McFadzean organised a list then contacted designers, contractors and suppliers and suggested an area. After a week or two, the commitments rolled in. Then, when one professional heard of another's participation, everything snowballed. ''They were amazed at the amount of space we had, and the potential. Everyone met their deadline. In fact, they liked the idea of having no guidelines.'' Paul Fox furnished Ms Ross' office. ''We wanted to give the room a calm feeling,'' explains the general manager of Altfield Interiors. ''We used classical pieces that are comfortable, ones that give a feeling of permanence.'' He selected two pairs of handmade rosewood horseshoe chairs, copies of traditional Ming designs. The Chinoiserie panels, depicting a village and another, a floral print, contribute to the Asian feel. ''Giving the room a Chinese flavour was uppermost in our minds,'' explained Mr Fox. ''AIDS in Hongkong is considered a foreign disease. Giving the office an Oriental theme would anchor the idea home.'' Snags in production were no problem. ''We were ready before they were,'' adds Mr Fox. ''Our installation took a couple of hours. It was fun and an honour to be included in the project.'' Bruce Harwood wishes all his jobs could be this easy. The designer/contractor was contacted by his friend McFadzean and asked to do the library. ''Ian was specific,'' says the partner in BHI, Ltd. ''We looked at the space then made the cabinets and counters in our factory. ''The installation took two days'' No meetings with other designers, or conferences, were necessary. ''It was easy. We all just came in and did our little bit.'' Generosity was never in short supply, adds Ms Ross, who beams as she guides a visitor through the kitchen, library and reception area. ''This area also converts to a teaching room,'' she says, pulling a vertical white panel from the doors that separate the library from the reception area. ''You can write on this like a chalkboard.'' The American-born psychiatric nurse, who put her experience with AIDS awareness in San Francisco to work here, estimates the number of volunteers has grown from a handful in 1989 to 80. After the house tour she surveys the scene. A sun-bathed living room, a bunch of purple iris reaching from a bowl on a white table could be a still-life. ''Feels like a home, doesn't it.''