Wait, when did everyone else get so good at interiors?
And why do I suck at it?
My husband and I, along with our six-month-old baby, moved into our new home in October 2022. I’d put my one bedroom flat on the market the week after I found out I was pregnant, picturing myself hanging mobiles and trying out various shades of blue on the new nursery wall well before my third trimester. My plans were somewhat, well, dampened; apparently prospective buyers aren’t keen on inheriting newly-discovered rising damp, even if the chipper estate agent tries to convince you otherwise.
We’ve now been in our three-bedroom maisonette in Hackney for just over a year and that nursery wall is still aggressively white. There are a couple of prints (Henri Rousseau, Georgia O’Keeffe) but insofar as a full nursery makeover? Not so much. The truth is, I haven’t done a whole lot of anything to the place. Every time I think about renovating I want to lie down. And believe me, the place could do with some sprucing: there are unforgivable sparkly tiles in the kitchen and a hall carpet that’s more worn down than I am after a weekend with my mother. The house is also… fine? It’s clean and functioning. But every time I have anyone over they ask me the dreaded question: “So, what are your plans for the place?”
I love watching Architectural Digest videos on YouTube (shout out celeb wood brags) and poring over Rachel Chudley’s Instagram as much as the next person but when it comes to my own home, I just don’t have it in me.
Once upon a time we talked about who was shagging who down the pub. Now it’s side tables and Colefax and Fowler and having a ‘guy’ for something. My entire social feeds are filled with people proudly sharing their reupholstered armchairs and new mirrors. Search for #interiors on Instagram and you will have your pick of 37.8 million posts. And yet I just don’t have a particular style or taste. Was there some MasterClass everyone took around the age of 30 that I missed because I was hungover?
Reading I’m A Fan, the excellent debut novel by Sheena Patel that everyone seemed to be tearing through this summer after it came out in paperback in March, I could relate to the unnamed narrator who quietly seethes at the women on the internet (particularly one, her romantic nemesis aka ‘The woman I am obsessed with’) who have an innate understanding of what is, and isn’t, chic: “She has opinions about household objects which I have never given a thought to before; firm taste in the types of beeswax candles to burn, lays exquisite cloth on her table in anticipation of dinner, knows where to buy limited edition pottery from well-regarded potters.”
But, much like the narrator, I want in. Oh, don’t get me wrong, I want in. I long for the coveted mid-century piece and the Farrow & Ball and the house that people come into and say, ‘Oh wow aren’t you so lucky to live here’. I just don’t know how to get there. I wouldn’t know which chest of drawers to buy or which colour paint to choose. I don’t have the eye for it. And I can’t afford to hire Rachel Chudley.
Growing up, we lived in a fairly unremarkable home. Nice and comfortable but unremarkable. But I don’t think you can blame my lack of an eye on that. I have friends who grew up in equally plain homes, yet their own places now resemble a Beata Heuman catalogue.
When we put up some long cream curtains from John Lewis in the bedroom (we had to, the previous owners took their bright red curtains with them and you can bet if they hadn’t we’d probably still have them up) I almost immediately realised that they were all wrong. This was a bedroom in the lower ground and it was too dark to elicit any of the sunlight-flitting-through-Parisian-apartment-bedroom look that I was trying to go for. I should have gone for a darker colour in a rich material to make the room look cosy, like a decadent cave. Instead the bedroom looks as cold as you might imagine a basement room feels in December.
I can dress myself but I cannot dress my surroundings. Patel’s narrator, while regarding her failure at being any kind of interiors aesthete, recognises, “I fit into spaces which already exist”. The novel looks at the role of the tastemaker in society with regards to race and class and also asks if we have just been conditioned to want these things? Does it really matter if your home wouldn’t make it onto The Modern House? Or is our collected obsession just another sickness of late-stage capitalism and social media one-upmanship? I’m at a bit of a loss. On the one hand it’s your space, whether that is a rented studio or a five bedroom country house. But ultimately others look at my home and see potential; I look at my home and think “that’ll do”.
It’s an incredible privilege to even have a home to decide what you want to do with it (or not do with it). But I don’t think money is the deciding factor in creating a nice environment either. I know plenty of people in both rented accommodation and their own homes who have conjured up delightful spaces on tiny budgets, using hand-me-downs and pre-owned pieces and a bit of imagination. Much like fashion, you can create a look on less.
Since The Curtains Incident, anything we have purchased - a Heal’s cognac velvet sofa, HAY’s rice paper lamp shade - has been heavily vetted and approved by friends because I just don’t trust myself (my husband has a lot to say about wall prints, but little else). I guess I’m lucky to have stylish friends, and if my house ends up looking ok, it will only be because of their intervention. In the meantime, can I teach myself anything?
The presenter Nick Grimshaw is obsessed with interiors, so much so that in 2021 he started a home decor Instagram account thirtysixandahalf that has now amassed 109K followers, and which often features images of his own immaculately put-together home. He once posted an Instagram story and I asked which hotel he was staying in; turns out he was in his own bedroom. Pah. Having lived with him for a big chunk of our twenties, I know he hasn’t always resided in such sumptuous surroundings. He also describes the house he was brought up in as “homely and warm but not design led”. So how did he develop his taste?
“As a kid I was always very obsessed with catalogues, my favourite being the IKEA one,” he tells me. “I’d draw endless designs for my room, making ornate plans and little papier-mâché things to hang from my ceiling. As I grew, so did my interest. I’ve always liked how things look, from art to music videos. I’ve been aesthetically-minded but I’m not that good at art so interiors felt like a creative space I could experiment in. I liked making myself feel safe and comforted and did it through interiors I guess”.
In terms of remaining confident in your choices, Grimmy says, “If something isn’t working in your lounge, maybe it could work in your bedroom? Don’t throw it out and get a new one. It’s good to have a refresh of stuff every now and then - swapping lamps out, rehanging pictures in different rooms, it can feel like you’ve done a lot more to the space and see your stuff in a new exciting, refreshing way.”
Naomi Smart is a design and fashion editor based in east London, and another person that I know with exquisite taste in all things home decor. She has gathered an extensive following for her in-depth knowledge of twentieth century furniture and decorative objects. Currently the Commerce Director at British Vogue, Naomi describes her interest in interiors as “a hobby but a constant hobby”. Her own home, she says, is “a real mix of so many eras and styles whether it’s ‘80s post-modernist to arts and crafts, but I always gravitate towards objects with amazing form, structure and material more than any specific period.”
But how did she develop such a great - and unique - eye? “My style has been cultivated through vintage sourcing and immersing myself in the eclectic nature of flea markets,” she tells me. “Surrounding myself with friends that are dealers, artists and designers. Everything in my home is second hand so it has a character to it from the get-go. Choosing objects I like is easy, I’ve done it for so many years in fashion, it’s the same process for interiors. But pulling a room together is a bit like putting on an outfit, but way harder; layouts drive me mad. I have a really good little sounding board of mates now who always give me good advice and vice versa.”
So far the only significant thing we have touched in our new home is the garden. In April we removed the previous owner’s vegetable patches at the back of the garden to make way for a deck. I hired the contractor all by myself and project managed the whole thing *proud face*. But I was really spurred on by wanting to have a sunny spot to entertain friends in the summer rather than aesthetics. Plus, if this isn’t exactly clear already, I’m just not the sort of person who is going to grow courgettes. But the garden does now look pretty great and it did feel like an achievement. Maybe I shouldn't be so scared about making a few changes?
Grimmy’s top tip for getting started is “don’t follow a prescribed style or trend. Feel it out, just like an outfit or a song, your house should make YOU feel a certain way, think about how you want to feel at home and go from there.” Naomi says, “Start pulling images of objects, rooms and furniture into moodboards and folders, don’t think about it too much in the beginning, but you can start to see what your eyes are drawn to and gather a picture of what you like. Ideally start to categorise with purpose - are you upholstering a chair and looking for inspo? Or are you designing a bathroom and need to pull all reference details like taps before buying?”
Currently we have a cloakroom with a rotting and leaking sink which is forcing my hand to gently approach some renos. Will you be seeing the before and after on Instagram? Only time will tell. But if it goes anything like the curtains, I might just keep it to myself.
What I’ve been enjoying this week…
Vespertine is a new female-owned label that makes the sexiest blouses and dresses that are perfect for party season. Check them out!
What I’ve not been enjoying this week…
Can we talk about how hardly anyone stops for pedestrians at zebra crossings anymore? Even when you have a pushchair? What’s up with that?
Substack reads sent me a link to this in my ‘weekly stack’ and it did, indeed, interest me!
I found it so interesting to read your perspective on this and the pressure you feel about how your home should look. I don’t think you’re alone in feeling this way at all.
Long story short, I quit my job and retrained as an interior designer earlier this year. I’m in the fairly early days of my business and based in SW London. I wonder if I can help? And whether we could write about the process? My fees are much, much less than Rachel Chudley!
If any of this is of interest, have a look at my website: www.hannahashe.co.uk where there are lots of photos of my work and contact details.
Hannah x
I used to feel this way! And still do, but not to the same extent. Making moodboards in Pinterest helped me see parterns for what my taste is, what I like. And then you just go slowly and build the layers. I always feel like this when ut comes to clothes and fashion. Yesterday I mer my very stylist friend, everything looks expensive on here even if she got it from Zara. Mesnwhile I’m literally in jeans and a knit.
Sometimes I do want to critique this ideal of ”regular” people having magazine worthy homes. I don’t know, was that what the previous generation of feminists fought for, for us to be obsessed with and pour so much of our energy into domestic life? (Even though I am obsessed and like to care about the domestic life)