Strategist and content creator Francesca Swan is one of Ideal Home's new Open House contributors, sharing her thoughts on the concept of 'Everything' and what makes a home special to you. See the rest of her articles here.

In the ongoing spirit of sharing the whole, unfiltered, unvarnished truth about our renovation experiences – the good, the bad and the downright ugly – please find for your entertainment, and possibly education, what I’ve pithily titled “The Curse of the Kitchen Marble”.

A word of caution. This is a bit of a horror story, but *spoiler alert* there is a happy ending.

I have news…After nine months of mind-bending stress, the kitchen is FINALLY finished and I’m very happy to report I love it beyond actual words.

We now have a beautiful Rosso Levanto marble counter with double bullnose edge, flowing into a two-thirds height splashback before finishing in Antico marble all the way to the ceiling, framing the window.

Of course, we also have cabinets and appliances and they’re great. But to be honest, I just see the marble. Which is the point.

We absolutely adore it. Now. For a long time, though, we genuinely thought the kitchen marble was cursed.

Of every bump and ruinously expensive pothole in the road of this renovation – and there’s a been a LOT – the marble has undoubtedly caused the most problems and delays. At times it was genuinely a bit scary, not to mention deeply stressful and very upsetting.

Several people, my other half and our lovely contractor included, questioned (more than once), whether it was really worth it? Shouldn’t we just choose something else?

Categorically not. Thank you. Next question.

I have a REAL thing for marble. It’s a true Everything material for me, never failing to stop me in my tracks and fill me with joy. I'd set my heart on flooding this kitchen with it from the very start and once I have an idea in my head, there is simply no talking me out of it.

Sure, I questioned my sanity more than once but never questioned the marble. Now it’s finished, I know it was the right decision.

But it came at a steep cost, in more ways than one.

Why a marble kitchen was always Everything to me

Beautiful kitchens don’t begin with cabinets. As with any room for me, they begin with one Everything decision: an emotional and creative anchor from which the design takes shape.

The marble.

Years earlier, I’d obsessed over a sublime double bullnose detail in a restaurant and locked it in my Everything inspiration box. This led to the idea of a double-depth worktop and dramatic full-height splashback, using two contrasting marbles.

My instinct was that an entire wall of natural stone would not only create a uniquely beautiful statement, but also soften the contemporary extension and connect it to the original period apartment beyond.

In theory, it would bring a sense of permanence and belonging, as if it had been there forever.

All that remained was to choose the marble…easier than it sounds.

The complex conundrum of choosing the marble

Initially, we knew very little about marble, however this was a big investment, so we wanted to take our time to learn and explore all the options.

Visiting different stone merchants was fascinating and so much fun. But standing in a yard after yard, packed with tantalising glimpses of thousands of beautiful slabs in a kaleidoscope of colours was also somewhat overwhelming.

I thought I would instinctively know the right marble on sight, however the more we saw, the longer my “shortlist” grew.

Thankfully, we discovered Develli, who eventually supplied our stone. Their knowledge and passion, not to mention endless patience, simplified things and removed the fear factor. Their expertise quickly helped us narrowed down our options.

Countless mock-ups followed, testing different combinations until we finally landed on polished Rosso Levanto for the worktop and lower splashback, paired with honed Antico above to frame the window.

So far, so good…

The curse of the kitchen marble begins

Our marble was delivered to the fabricator and installer. I’d chosen a small family business, with years of experience, an excellent reputation and impressive portfolio. They were passionate, detail-obsessed and lovely to work with.

Then things slowly unravelled…

Planning delays meant our kitchen slipped several months, but eventually it was fitted and they came to template. Installation was set for two weeks later.

We were beyond excited, not least because we could finally book in the valuation for our remortgage, essential if we were to stand a fighting chance of finishing this money-pit of a project.

Then, at 10pm the night before installation, a WhatsApp pinged.

Cancelled and rescheduled the following week. They apologised and explained they were dealing with operational issues.

Not ideal, but these things happen. I explained the urgency of remortgage valuation and potential impact of further delays. All good, they promised.

Then it happened again. And again. And again. And AGAIN!

We were now seven weeks past the original install date, without a functioning kitchen and washing dishes in the bathroom sink. We installed a temporary MDF worktop and bit the bullet with the valuation, to avoid restarting the arduous mortgage process from scratch.

At this point, I should have drawn a line and walked away. Instead, I tried even harder to make it work with them.

I've spent much of my career managing suppliers with large commercial budgets and contracts. Normally I'm meticulous about due diligence, risk and accountability.

Yet staggeringly, when it came to my own home, I ignored all my years of experience.

I believed the assurances I was given. I kept giving them the benefit of the doubt, because I thought they were good people trying their best in the face of huge difficulty.

Another date was set. Then communication stopped completely. Another no-show. No messages. No replies. No phones being answered. Nada.

Up to this point, I’d glossed over the gory details with my other half. His work was particularly demanding at the time, and I genuinely thought I could sort things without adding to his already full plate.

However, by day ten of their disappearing act, I was struggling to cope. In the car on the way to the supermarket, I quietly admitted the truth.

“I can’t get in touch with them and have a niggling, yet very real fear something is seriously wrong their side. We might have lost three slabs of marble.”

Together, we did some very overdue digging. Sadly, that niggling fear was true. They were facing severe problems and we were not alone in our situation, from customers to suppliers.

Thankfully we hadn’t paid them anything. We now just desperately needed to save our marble.

A firmly worded message setting out our ownership of the stone, along with our intention to take all necessary steps to retrieve it, finally prompted a reply.

The owner acknowledged the situation, but reassured us our stone was safe and could be collected. In theory.

In reality, it was inside a stone yard, whose landlord was refusing access to goods and equipment whilst a dispute over arrears was being resolved.

Then came a separate, equally stressful, carefully worded negotiation with the landlord to secure access to our stone. Thankfully, he allowed collection.

In the meantime, I found an amazing new fabricator and installer, The Only Way Is Granite. They were hugely experienced, not to mention incredibly sympathetic and supportive of the difficult situation and helping me find solutions. I truly do not know what I would have done without them.

Next followed the complex, time-consuming and utterly joyless logistical nightmare of getting the stone from the yard to them.

Getting the three huge slabs onto a transport vehicle within a tight access window is as thorny as it sounds. The equipment in the yard could not be used, and I lost hours sourcing the expensive hire of a specialist HIAB lorry and coordinating with our transport.

There is a tiny silver lining here, for you at least; if you ever need to know anything about HIAB hire, I’m your woman. A dubious and useless expertise I can add to my renovation CV, along with drainage strategies.

With everyone booked and coordinated, collection day dawned. I spent the morning on the edge of my seat and glued to my phone, praying everything went smoothly for once.

Naturally, the M25 had other ideas. A major closure meant the transport eventually arrived hours late.

We had to pay the HIAB to wait for ten mins of work. Poof. A thousand pounds gone, just like that.

A super fun day. I still shudder when I think of it.

But, joy, the marble was in perfect condition and finally, safely in the hands of our wonderful new company.

The curse is lifted...

When things go spectacularly and painfully wrong, it does serve to remind you how extraordinarily wonderful it is when they go well. The nightmare of those months quickly transformed into an absolute dream.

Their team made up for everything. A joy to work with, from templating to install with sublime craftsmanship and attention to detail.

Another bonus? Our emotional and financial investment in the marble meant I was now even more hell-bent on my mission to use every spare inch sustainably. They jumped enthusiastically on board.

The Antico joins random spare offcuts from their yard, all cut down into floor tiles for the hallway.

In a wonderfully serendipitous event, the leftover Rosso also found an unexpected but truly perfect home. Stay tuned for more on that coming soon… it’s a bit special.

In all, a very happy ending in more ways than we ever believed possible.

Boundaries matter more than being nice

The whole sorry episode taught me a hard lesson that also makes me a little sad.

Life happens, and some things are unavoidable. However, I was deeply let down by people I trusted and had gone out of my way to make allowances form at huge cost to both our project and emotional wellbeing.

It yet again proves the importance of paying attention when someone’s actions stop matching their assurances.

Unfortunately, people don't always behave as we might hope or expect, whether intentionally or because circumstances have perhaps overtaken them.

You can't control the behaviour of people around you. The only things you can control are your own behaviour and responses. Protect yourself, your project and your interests. I didn't, and that is a huge lesson.

Through my slightly naïve, albeit well-intentioned efforts to support the supplier, I unintentionally sacrificed our own interests and, unwittingly, those of our contractor.

Ultimately, we all paid the price, not only financially, but also through the delays: the constant reshuffling of his schedule and team; the impact on our standard of living, already suffering after eighteen months of renovation. We ended up washing dishes in our bathroom, resulting in a broken a macerator and the hideous smashing of tiles for the repair.

That said, the happy ending does also feel like a testament to my belief that, if you are ultimately a good and kind person, that should come back to you eventually. Hopefully.

The lesson I'll never forget

So, there you have it. The Curse of the Kitchen Marble. Also, known as a lesson that applies to all the horror stories we’ve been unlucky enough to encounter on our journey.

Be fair, respectful and kind. Set clear parameters and expectations on both sides and make sure you keep your side of the street clean. Do your homework and due diligence, do things properly and use the correct and appropriate channels.

Know your rights and that of the other party concerned. Judge objectively whether you REALLY need to go over and above your legal obligations. Plan for the worst-case scenario, and you will more than likely be pleasantly surprised when things go swimmingly.

Unfortunately, I am inherently a people pleaser – thanks ADHD and rejection sensitivity dysphoria – and struggle with boundaries in my personal life, something I’m working on.

Renovations are, by their nature deeply personal, so maybe that’s how the wheels came off in such a spectacularly ruinous way.

Looking back, if I’d had clocked this and applied logic and boundaries, I’ve always used in my professional life, things would have been a LOT less painful for a lot of people.

Anyway. With that out the way, there’s another column to follow in the not-so-distant future on the sexy, fun stuff – the design and styling of my Everything Kitchen.

In the meantime, I hope this offers a kernel or two of helpful intel that either reinforces what you already practice or inspires you to gently start.

Home decorator Ammarah Hasham is one of Ideal Home's new Open House contributors, sharing her thoughts infusing her rental house with plenty of personality. See the rest of her articles here.

I love dressing up …when I am not roaming around in my pyjamas, of course. For me, accessories are what pull an outfit together. I’ve been collecting them for as long as I can remember. In fact, some of my pieces have been with me since my teenage years (yes, that long), and I still reach for them today.

I realised I decorate my home in exactly the same way. I rely on accessories to give a room that same je ne sais quoi. Just like a great pair of earrings can transform a simple outfit, a well-placed lamp can completely change the mood of a room. The best part is that the price tag doesn’t matter. Some of the most affordable lamps I’ve owned, and even DIY-ed, have made the biggest impact. Just like a favourite accessory finishes an outfit, the right lamp controls what your eyes notice first.

After years of renting, one thing I have realised is that just because a space doesn’t have any personality, it doesn’t mean we should lose ours too. Rental homes rarely come with much character, so it’s up to us to bring it in.

When I moved into my first place, I thought the overhead light was enough. I never really questioned it because it was bright enough for me to cross stitch, and at that time, that was all I cared about. If I could see what I was doing, the lighting had done its job.

Over time though, I found myself reaching for the lamps more and more. Every time, the room instantly felt calmer, warmer and far more inviting.

Lighting wasn’t just about seeing the room anymore. It was how the room made me feel.

And my good old lamps served a much bigger purpose than simply filling an empty corner.

They break up the magnolia

One of the biggest frustrations of renting is not being able to paint or wallpaper. Almost every rental I’ve lived in has come with the same neutral walls. Three countries, yet the same story every single time.

I’ve learnt to introduce colour in ways that don’t require a paintbrush or my landlord’s permission, and lamps have become one of my favourite ways to do just that. A colourful base or lampshade instantly breaks up the sea of beige, giving your eye somewhere to land.

The beauty of lamps is that they are completely portable. You can move them from room to room till you find your favourite spot or scatter them around your home like confetti, adding little dots of colour where needed. A decorating investment you never have to leave behind.

They layer light beautifully

Lighting controls what your eyes notice. Make it count. You can change the feel of a rental by layering your lighting. More often than not, rentals have a functional single overhead light that floods and flattens the room.

Introducing lamps in varying heights can help you create depth and dimension in an otherwise boxy and clinical space. A floor lamp, table lamp or even a small rechargeable lamp on the shelf can work together to make a space more inviting.

I have learnt through plenty of trial and error that lighting behaves a bit like a camera operator. It directs your attention. It highlights the features you want people to notice while allowing the less attractive parts of a room to fade into the background.

In rentals where there is little to no architectural character, you can completely change how a room is experienced simply by playing with where the light falls. And of course, you don’t need to spend a fortune to do that.

They outsmart bad lighting

Who even decides where switches and plug sockets go in rentals? They always seem to end up either smack in the middle of a wall like an eyesore or tucked away in the most awkward places. Then there’s that single ceiling light that’s somehow expected to do all the work.

(Rant over)

That’s why I’ve come to rely on lamps, especially rechargeable ones. They let me create cosy little pools of light exactly where I want them, not where the wiring dictates.

Thankfully, there’s an easy way around it. Cordless lamps and smart bulbs with remote controls give you far more control over how your home feels, bringing a little of that hotel-style convenience into a rental. No trailing cables. No need for extension leads. Just pure freedom and convenience to brighten up poorly lit corners, without being restricted by badly positioned sockets.

Many rechargeable lamps are dimmable too, so you can adjust the brightness depending on the mood you want to achieve in a room.

A COMPLETE game changer!

They add texture and contrast

If a room looks a little flat or everything seems to blend into one another, lamps can work wonders. They can create a cosy lived-in ambience without making any major changes. The secret lies in choosing a lamp that’s just as beautiful switched off as it is switched on.

I always pay attention to the materials, finishes and textures. A pleated lampshade brings in softness while a ceramic base brings another layer of interest. If your style leans towards something more modern, a glossy metal lamp might just be your thing. Natural materials like rattan or wood create a warmer, more relaxed feel.

When we think about contrast, most of us immediately think of colour, but that’s only part of the story. Contrast also comes from mixing materials and finishes. Pairing smooth ceramics with woven baskets, a linen lampshade with a metal base or a curved lamp beside clean-lined furniture creates a subtle juxtaposition that stops a room from feeling predictable.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m still the person who loves the big light when I'm cleaning, crafting or working on a project. I’d barely be able to thread a needle without it. But once the day is done, and it is time to unwind, it's the lamps I reach for.

Interior designer and content creator Rebecca Constable is one of Ideal Home's new Open House contributors, sharing her thoughts on demystifying the process of designing and decorating a home, and helping people work out where to spend and where to save.

Since we moved into this house 9 years ago we’ve been on a journey to find ways we can use less plastic, reduce our waste and better look after the health of our family.

The success of that has depended on a number of things including the age of our children (or how sleep deprived we are), how well an eco-friendly product has worked and also how much disposable income we have.

Over the years we have made eco swaps and some have been a success and others have resulted in us returning back to the less planet friendly alternative because they work better.

However after much trial and error I have found some brilliant home products that are plastic free, kinder to the planet and genuinely better than their plastic counterparts, which make them a really compelling swap

1. Food containers

First of all we have finally got rid of the dreaded Tupperware mountain that used to loom in our cupboards. An assortment of random, discolored plastic boxes and lids which we used for storing leftovers.

We have now replaced them with the brilliant Ikea glass food containers which you can buy with a bamboo lid. They come in all shapes and sizes, stack beautifully and can be used in the oven, which means you can take something out of the fridge, heat it up and serve it straight on the table without creating lots of washing up.

But what I love most about them is that our food doesn’t have that weird plastic taste you get from a Tupperware when something has been stored in it.The food tastes just as it did when you first cooked it.

2. Laundry detergent

Secondly we’ve swapped our laundry detergent and fabric softener to Smol. Their products all come in cardboard cartons which are easily recyclable rather than a plastic bottle.

Our washing machine has a built-in dispenser for detergent and softener which means we can just use the cartons to fill it up and there is no leftover plastic waste.

And of course the products work brilliantly, I particularly love the outdoorsy fabric softener which makes the whole house smell amazing when the clothes are drying.

3. Wooden stools

The third swap we did was buy wooden stools from both IKEA and The Futon Company for our bathrooms so that the kids could reach the sink and toilet, rather than the standard plastic ones.

To be honest this was mainly driven by my desire for a child friendly but aesthetically pleasing home, however it has proven to be an excellent decision.

Because they’re made of solid wood the stools have lasted over 9 years already and are still going strong. And once they’re no longer needed by the kids in the bathroom I know they will get used elsewhere in the house as side tables and for other things. Had we got plastic stools I am pretty sure they would have been chucked out by now.

4. Stainless steel containers

Our fourth swap has been to the Black and Blum lunchboxes. My husband often takes his lunch into work and these are brilliant! Again it means we don’t have to use plastic Tupperware and even though they’re made of stainless steel they can still go in the microwave so you can easily heat anything up in the office.

The only downside is that the lid is plastic but overall it’s significantly less than a standard lunchbox and your food is really only touching the stainless steel.

5. Surface cleaner

Finally we have swapped our surface cleaner over to Purdy and Figg who have the most amazing smelling scents. When you first sign up you're given a reusable glass spray bottle and small glass bottles of the concentrate which you simply top up with water.

I love being able to choose different fragrances depending on the time of year and they leave the whole kitchen smelling divine. This is just one of those products that just works better the usual options and the fact that there is no plastic waste is brilliant.

We are far from perfect when it comes to making eco swaps in our house but we are conscious of how the choices we make impact our health and the environment. And I think as long as we keep trying to choose the better option where possible we’ll be able to contribute in a meaningful way to looking after the planet.

I’m constantly amazed at how the next generation have these ideas and principles already instilled in them and so I think we have a lot to learn from our children.

Home decorator Lara Winter is one of Ideal Home's Open House contributors, sharing her thoughts on revamping a 200 year old cottage to make it right for modern family life. See the rest of her articles here.

I have a confession to make. If you've ever looked at photos of our cottage and imagined I'm one of those people who carefully finishes one room before starting the next, I'm afraid you've been fooled. I'd say I complete about 85% of every DIY project before getting distracted by something much more exciting.

I absolutely love decorating our home. Coming up with ideas, choosing colours, building something from scratch or watching a room completely transform - that's the bit I enjoy.

The final jobs, though? Painting skirting boards, filling tiny gaps, touching up the last bit of paint... I lose all motivation. By then, my brain has already wandered off to the next project.

Our home library is probably the best example. It stayed unfinished for years because of a few ugly metal shelf brackets that I'd always planned to hide.

Eventually I had a rare burst of determination, built a little arch to disguise one side and added coving across the top so it looked much more like a built-in piece of furniture. It made such a difference and I was so pleased with it.

Did I finish it? Of course not. There's still one lonely bracket on the other side that I've never got around to covering. Every time I walk past it, I think “I really should do that.” And then I carry on walking.

The same thing happened with my home office door to the garden. I'd wanted to paint the white UPVC door for ages and finally settled on the most gorgeous terracotta red (Red Earth by Farrow and Ball).

I got halfway through the second coat, realised I'd run out of paint and told myself I'd pick up another tin the following week. That was months ago.

The door still needs another coat and, if I'm honest, I barely notice anymore. My attention has already moved elsewhere.

Then there are the floorboards on our upstairs landing. One afternoon I decided I'd had enough of the old carpet, so I ripped the whole thing up without much of a plan.

Underneath were beautiful original boards and I could already picture how lovely they'd look once they'd been sanded and sealed.

That was over a year ago. The floorboards are still very much waiting.

I used to think this was one of my worst habits, but I've started to realise it's probably just the way I'm wired. I love the excitement of creating something new.

Once I can see the finished result, the creative part feels done. What's left is the DIY equivalent of paperwork. Maybe that’s why my list of future projects is always much longer than my list of finished ones.

Thankfully, my husband is much better at seeing projects through to the end. He'll quietly remind me that something still needs another coat of paint while I'm enthusiastically explaining my latest idea. Between us, we usually get there eventually, although perhaps not in the order either of us expected.

I also think there's something quite comforting about a home that's never completely finished. It means we're still living in it, changing it and finding new ideas. If I'd insisted on completing every tiny detail before moving on, we probably wouldn't have half the projects we love today.

So yes, if you ever visit our cottage, there's a fair chance you'll spot an exposed bracket, a door that could do with one more coat or floorboards that are still waiting for their big moment. But you'll probably also find me halfway through another project, wondering why I ever thought this one would be different.

Committed home renovators David and Andrew Harrison-Colley (better known on Instagram as The Home Boys) are part of Ideal Home's new Open House contributors, sharing their thoughts on making a home together and living through the tricky parts. See the rest of their articles here.

This whole renovation started with a demolition. Three and a half years ago – before the extension, before the terracotta floors, before any of the good bits – we took a sledgehammer to the old carpenter’s workshop at the side of the house. So it feels oddly fitting that the last big job in the garden began exactly the same way: with us knocking something down.

Because the sunny corner we’d earmarked for a patio had one small problem sitting right in the middle of it – the original outside toilet. A little brick outbuilding that had been clinging on for decades, doing nothing in particular except getting in the way of our plans. Before we could build the nice part, we had to lose the loo.

Demolition, part two

There’s something very satisfying about a demolition when you know exactly what’s going in its place. This wasn’t knocking down for the sake of it – it was clearing the way. Off came the roof, down came the walls, and within a day the corner had opened right up. Suddenly we could see the space for what it could be rather than what it had always been.

And true to form, we couldn’t quite bring ourselves to bin the lot. The bricks that were worth saving got the same treatment as all the others – cleaned up by hand, mortar chipped off, stacked back onto the pile. Some of them have gone straight down into the patio.

There’s a nice symmetry to that: the old outside loo is, in a very literal sense, now part of the floor we stand on with a glass of wine on a summer evening.

Building it back up

With the corner cleared, the patio itself came together faster than we expected – partly because we’d had plenty of practice with these bricks by now (see: the wall, the edging, the steps), and partly because the weather held for once.

We started with the bit no one photographs: the base. A layer of MOT hardcore, raked out and compacted down hard until it stopped moving underfoot. This is the unglamorous foundation that stops a patio sinking or lifting later, and it is absolutely not the place to cut corners.

On top of that, we bedded the bricks on a sand and cement mortar – the same mix we used for the flush lawn edging. A patio has to take furniture, footfall and – eventually – the full weight of a barbecue and a crowd, so it needs locking down properly.

A pattern that ties it all together

Here’s the detail we’re quietly most pleased with. We laid the patio in a basketweave – pairs of bricks turned alternately, so the eye reads a woven grid rather than straight runs.

We chose it to match the treads of the new brick-and-sleeper steps, so the two flow into one another. But the pattern goes back further than that: it’s lifted straight from the brick floor in the snug, inside the cottage.

That’s become one of our favourite things about this stage of the renovation – letting the inside and the outside speak to each other. The same reclaimed bricks, the same basketweave, echoing between a room we’ll retreat to over winter and a patio we’ll sit out on all summer.

It makes the garden feel like part of the house rather than a separate project bolted on at the end. A home that feels collected and connected rather than compartmentalised has been the goal indoors from the very beginning – it turns out exactly the same thinking works outside.

Designing around the time of day

If there’s one thing we’d urge anyone planning a patio to think about, it’s not the size or the shape – it’s the light. Specifically, when you’ll actually be out there.

We positioned this one to catch the evening sun, because we know how we live: the garden gets used most at the end of the day, once the work is done and dinner’s being thrown on the barbecue.

A patio that bakes at midday and falls into shade by six would have looked lovely in photos and gone completely unused in real life. The way sun and shade move across a garden is easy to overlook on a plan and impossible to ignore once you’re living with it.

If you’re laying a reclaimed brick patio

• Compact the base properly. MOT hardcore, well compacted, is what stops the whole thing sinking or heaving. Boring, essential, non-negotiable.
• Mortar, not sand, for a patio. A sand and cement bed gives a firmer, longer-lasting fix than sharp sand.
• Dry-lay your pattern first. Basketweave – or whatever you choose – is far easier to plan on the ground before anything’s fixed than to unpick halfway through.
• Build in a slight fall. Set a gentle slope away from the house so rainwater runs off rather than pooling or draining back towards the walls.
• Steal a detail from indoors. Matching a pattern, tone or material to something inside is the quickest way to make a garden feel considered rather than added on.

Not quite finished (of course)

We’d love to tell you the patio is done and dusted, but if you’ve read any of our previous columns you’ll know we don’t really do “finished”. The bricks are down, the space is usable, and we’ve already eaten out there more times than we can count.

But there’s a next chapter already forming: a pergola over the top to give it some height and shade, and a built-in bench and outdoor kitchen area to turn the barbecue from a balancing act into something that actually feels like a proper setup.

Those are jobs for another season – possibly another year. For now, we’re resisting the urge to crack straight on, and letting ourselves enjoy the thing we’ve built before dreaming up the next bit. (This is growth. Ask anyone who’s renovated with us.)

Full circle

There’s a real full-circle feeling to standing on this patio. The whole renovation began with us knocking down one brick building at the side of the house; give or take three years, an extension and an entire cottage, the outdoor chapter is ending with us knocking down another.

The least glamorous corner of the whole plot – the one nobody would ever have looked at twice – has quietly become the best seat in the garden.

We’ll raise a glass to that. On the patio. In the evening sun. Roughly where the toilet used to be.

Screen printer Hannah Carvell is one of Ideal Home's new Open House contributors, sharing her thoughts on colourful home design for a creative family to live in. See the rest of her articles here.

We moved to the countryside with two dogs and a cat. Somewhere along the way we acquired chickens, ducks, geese and endless conversations about goats. I never expected animals to change what home meant to me but somehow they have.

I'll admit it, we're a family with very little self-control when it comes to animals. When we swapped our Victorian townhouse for a cottage in the Somerset countryside, we already had two dogs and a cat, so it's not as though we arrived pet-free.

But having a bit of land, working from home and a daughter who adores animals has proved to be a dangerous combination. Add in two parents who are hopeless at saying no and, well... our family has continued to grow.

First came Pickle. After one of the hardest years we've ever had, my husband losing his job, selling our home, moving schools and starting life somewhere completely new we all felt a little shell-shocked.

Bringing home a tiny Chihuahua puppy felt like injecting a little bit of joy into a year that had felt anything but joyful. We found him online, smiling in his photo, the last puppy left in the litter and reduced because he was so tiny and had come out smooth coated compared to his hairy parents and siblings.

We told ourselves that a Chihuahua doesn't really count as a whole third dog. More of a half-dog. That's still the story we're sticking to anyway.

Not long afterwards came a small flock of rescue hens, followed by a rather handsome black cockerel who needed a new home.

During those final months before we moved, when life felt particularly uncertain, we'd promised our daughter that once we had our own little bit of countryside she'd hatch a goose egg in an incubator and raise a gosling (we had lived by a river in the town and feeding the geese had become a daily ritual that she was sad to leave behind).

It sounded simple enough. It wasn’t. Goose eggs are notoriously difficult to hatch. It took three attempts, twelve eggs and a lot of patience before one tiny gosling finally appeared, watching her hatch was pure magic though. We named her Tama, and my daughter hand-reared her beneath a heat lamp until she was ready for life outdoors.

Of course Tama needed a best friend, so we found ourselves driving to a local poultry farm with a goose riding on my daughter's lap to choose a duckling. Together they picked the tiniest, wonkiest duck they could find, who was named Side Duck.

One of the most rewarding parts of our little menagerie has been rescuing ex-commercial hens through the British Hen Welfare Trust. You collect them having never seen grass or sky before, they have never experienced sun or rain. They're often missing feathers, their combs are pale, their nails are overgrown and they smell strongly of the lives they've left behind.

Over a few weeks, something lovely happens. Their feathers grow back. Their bright red combs return. They discover dust baths, sunshine and scratching around in flower beds. They start greeting you every morning as though you've been away for months, and watching them discover freedom for the first time never gets old.

People always ask if they lay eggs. They do. Beautiful big eggs, just like you'd buy in the supermarket, although naturally we couldn't stop there.

We now have hens laying blue eggs, green eggs and tiny white ones because apparently colourful egg baskets became another thing I never knew I needed (and had seen on instagram and could not resist trying to replicate).

The latest additions? Two fluffy goslings that definitely weren't on the shopping list after a visit to the Bath & West Show. But who can really say no to fluffy goslings?

Living with animals isn't quite the idyllic countryside fantasy Instagram would have you believe. There are no lie-ins. Ever. The dogs expect breakfast at seven o'clock sharp. The chickens need letting out every morning before being tucked safely back into bed every evening.

More often than not, someone remembers halfway through a television programme that nobody has shut the hens away, resulting in one of us sprinting across the garden in our slippers through sideways rain muttering, "The chickens!”.

Cleaning out coops isn't particularly glamorous either. It's perfectly pleasant on a sunny July morning. Less so in February when you're ankle-deep in Somerset mud and the hens have taken their annual winter break from laying.

Then there's the fox. Anyone who keeps chickens will know the heartbreak that comes with trying to balance giving them a proper free-range life while also keeping them safe.

We've learnt difficult lessons over the past couple of years, particularly during cub season, when even having the dogs in the garden isn't always enough, and sometimes, despite your best efforts, nature reminds you who's really in charge.

The children have learnt about loss as well as responsibility, and while those conversations are never easy, they're all part of living closely with animals. The funny moments, thankfully, far outweigh the sad ones.

One of our rescue hens insists on laying her eggs in the dog's bed. Chica, who my daughter hand-reared from a day-old chick, still wanders into the kitchen whenever she gets the chance and helps herself to a chocolate brioche from the bread bin before anyone notices. My husband despairs. The rest of us laugh.

Our current family debate revolves around goats or my husband will say how about piglets.

I'm firmly trying to be the sensible one, largely because the weekend cleaning duties mysteriously seem to fall to me, but living in the countryside has definitely shifted everyone's idea of what counts as a reasonable number of animals.

Every year there is the temptation to let a couple of the Weston Super Mare Beach donkeys come and live in our field for they’re winter break.

If you'd told me a few years ago that I'd happily spend my evenings putting chickens to bed, discussing goose feed over dinner or planning holidays around finding someone willing to look after our ever-expanding collection of pets, I'd have laughed.

But somewhere along the way, without really noticing, all these animals became part of what home feels like. They've given our children responsibility, routine and countless memories they'll hopefully look back on one day with enormous affection. They've filled difficult years with laughter, purpose and fresh starts.

Our house isn't perfect. It's noisy, muddy, often has chicken poo on the floor and there's almost always someone or something asking for food. But it's full of life and feels like home.

Content creator Lucy Kalice is one of Ideal Home's Open House contributors, sharing her thoughts on cleaning, home decor and making the most of small spaces. See the rest of her articles here.

Last week was a big day in our household, it was the first time I’d picked up a rake and did some gardening…ever! After two years of staring out the back doors to dull grey fences, dried grass and enough weeds to qualify as a nature reserve, we’ve caved. We’ve finally started our garden makeover!

I’d always said the garden was my husband’s domain, he was loving taking care of the grass each year and two years ago he even built a bar at the back. But after going on quite a few trips this year, the garden had been neglected and was in a really bad state. Even the garden furniture doesn’t have any cushions so I’ve been sitting on the base of it with just a towel as a pillow…not the most comfortable or glamorous.

So last weekend we decided to start our garden transformation. We spent all weekend de-weeding, watering and seeding the grass and tidying it all up. And we have big big plans about what we want to do with it – I’m envisioning a pinterest-perfect garden with new painted fences, new furniture and some colourful plants and trees.

We have a long way to go but I’m confident we can sort it way before the end of summer (that’s if the weather keeps playing ball!).

Now we don’t have a big garden so my initial thought was how long would the de-weeding and tidying take? The answer: hours. The first lesson I learnt is that gardening is not a quick job, it’s a labour of love.

But what I quickly realised was how therapeutic and enjoyable it was. We all know it’s good to spend time outdoors and in nature, but this was a real mood-booster and gave me a huge sense of accomplishment when it was all done.

One of the nicest things was that it was time spent away from my phone and without distraction. I will admit that I am guilty of doom-scrolling and checking my phone even when there’s no notification there (I think we all are).

So to spend hours doing something productive and away from my phone was refreshing. And as someone who doesn’t love bugs, hates spiders and doesn’t really enjoy getting dirty, I really surprised myself with how much I enjoyed it.

However, that’s not to say it was easy. First of all, who was going to tell me that gardening is a workout??? If I’d have known I would’ve been out there sooner! It’s physically demanding – raking the lawn and pulling up the weeds was making me break a sweat as if i’d just spent an hour in the gym.

It’s also a great way to top up your tan and get some vitamin D, especially with all this glorious weather we’ve been having in the UK!

But there was one downside, the next day I woke up and my back was in agony. Hours spent hunched over chopping plants and pulling weeds will do that to you apparently and now I understand why people have those kneeling pads *reminder to self I must buy one*.

The garden is looking a lot tidier now and I’m sure I will learn a lot more throughout our garden transformation but one things for sure, gardening is good for the mind and body and is a hobby for all!

Interior designer Natalie Jahangiry is one of Ideal Home's new Open House contributors, sharing her thoughts on decorating a home to suit a busy family life while sticking to your aesthetic values, too. See the rest of her articles here.

What inspires you? In a digital era where we're almost overwhelmed with ideas online, I often find the best inspiration in everyday life. So when I first came across Margate House, a beautiful boutique stay on the Kent coast, I knew I had to visit.

And if you read my previous article, you'll know I did exactly that. I left feeling hugely inspired. As I wrote at the time: 'In my eyes, design is something deeply personal, and no matter how beautiful the inspiration, it's difficult to see yourself reflected through someone else's vision. That was until now.'

After visiting Margate House, I came home bursting with ideas for our bedroom… however, my aim is never to copy the look exactly. I'm a firm believer that copying leaves little room for personality.

Instead, I wanted to take small nods to the design, colour palette and styling techniques and reinterpret them in a way that reflected Tom and I as a couple. So out came the paint brushes, and into decorating mode I dove.

Space planning

When we design rooms for our Design and Refine clients, we almost always start with space planning, so that's exactly where I began here. First things first (and this may be a little controversial), I moved the bed from the centre of the chimney breast so it's now sitting beneath the window… eeek, I know!

I can already hear the "you'll catch a head chill in winter" comments, but the new layout made the room feel so much more spacious and functional. I also reminded myself of something important… it's my house, and I get to break the rules if I want to. Besides, American interior design shows seem to feature a bed beneath a window a lot, so it can't be all bad!

Sometimes good space planning is about challenging those traditional room layout rules and finding what works best for the space you actually have. And after all, if we don’t like it we can move it back, but so far so good.

Colour palette, panelling and paint techniques

COAT's collaboration with Margate House meant I could bring a little piece of the hotel home with me. As I always tell clients, colour looks completely different depending on the natural light in a room, so I tested samples in various areas of our north-facing bedroom before settling on Love Lane, a dusky pink with a real depth and warmth to it.

Now onto how to use that colour in our room. Margate House itself uses several clever paint techniques throughout the property, including colour capping, painting the woodwork darker and colour drenching.

Colour drenching has always been one of my favourite decorating tricks (it also makes it a lot easier to do when you are painting the room yourself!), and after seeing the living spaces in Margate House wrapped in Love Lane from head to toe it convinced me I wanted that same cocooning feel in our bedroom. So that’s what I went for. Yes… ceilings as well, back breaking work, but worth it.

When it came to panelling, the hotel features more traditional heritage style box panelling, but I opted for a slightly more modern slatted panelling style instead. While I love classic panelling, slats feel more in keeping with our home's overall look and feel.

Natural textures, handmade furniture and mixed woods

One of the things that struck me most at Margate House was the layering of texture and tone. Warm woods sit alongside brass, wool, linen and marble, creating spaces that feel like a home with pieces that have been collected over time, rather than a curated hotel space.

Every room is full of handmade details, unique furniture and thoughtful contrasts, so I wanted to bring that same sense of character into our bedroom. To help achieve that, I turned to Swoon, one of my favourite furniture brands.

I've been a fan of Swoon for as long as I can remember having my own space to decorate. In fact, I even had some of their pieces during my full-blown 'Millennial Grey' phase, and I'm pleased to say they've more than stood the test of time. What I've always loved about the brand is its approach to craftsmanship.

Rather than mass producing furniture, Swoon works closely with family run factories to create pieces in small batches, with some designs made in runs of as few as four. That focus on quality over quantity, detail and considered design felt perfectly aligned with the ethos of Margate House, making it an easy choice when selecting furniture for our bedroom concept.

First up was a bobbin mirror… of course! I chose the Walton Mirror, an elongated arched floor mirror that echoes other arches we have throughout the house and complements the tone of our existing bed. To introduce contrast in the woods, I added a walnut chest of drawers, with the Newham drawers providing the perfect balance against the lighter wood tones.

Every bedroom deserves a chair (and not just one to throw clothes onto), so I added the Braga Chair, featuring beautiful handwoven Danish cord as another nod to the handcrafted details throughout the hotel itself. I finished the scheme with the Marbella Table Lamp, which subtly references the marble accents I loved at Margate House.

I also found a bobbin style mirror for my dressing table on Vinted and painted it red to match the wardrobes, proving you don't always need to buy new to create a bespoke look.

Adding personality through art

Artwork plays a huge role throughout the boutique hotel, with quirky pieces adding personality to every room. Rather than directly copying the style, I looked to Margate itself for inspiration. It's such a creative, colourful place that finding artwork I loved wasn't difficult.

One shop in particular stood out: Margo in Margate, an Irish artist renowned for her relentless creativity and vibrant artworks, creating a series of original pieces based on vintage charm and vivid colors inspired by her youth culture.

I chose a piece that tied beautifully into the room's palette, and it's now proudly taking centre stage in the middle of the chimney breast wall.

Layering pattern underfoot

A vintage rug in the hotel's private dining space was the first flooring piece that caught my eye. Coming from a half-Iranian household, rugs have always played an important role in our home and heritage, so I wanted something that captured that timeless Persian carpet feel while still being practical enough for everyday life.

I found exactly that with Ruggable's Adeline Antique Red Rug, which combines a beautiful patterned design, with a washable, kid (and cat) friendly finish.

At the same time, we updated the main carpet throughout our hallway and continued it into our bedroom. We chose Tapi's Firefly Herringbone Carpet in Beige Chevron, which works brilliantly for our busy household with two children and two cats. Would I love a luxurious pure wool carpet? Absolutely, but for me, durability matters so much.

Modern polypropylene carpets have come a long way and offer the softness and appearance of wool, while being far easier to clean and maintain.. a must for family life and all the spillages that has to offer.

Layering for a boutique hotel feel

The luxurious curtains throughout Margate House were another detail I couldn't stop thinking about. I've become a big fan of layered window treatments and wanted to bring that same hotel inspired feel into our bedroom. I chose pink velvet curtains as the main feature, and they complement the wall colour beautifully.

To help with the practical challenge of having the bed beneath the window, I layered these with a sheer cotton voile from H&M behind. Paired with our shutters, the overall effect feels soft, elegant and wonderfully luxurious, while still being incredibly practical.

Giving built-ins a bespoke feel

One of the things we loved when we moved into our home was the wall of built-in IKEA wardrobes in our bedroom. And you may have spotted from a previous article I wrote, I love an IKEA upcycle.

Originally blue, I'd previously painted them the same colour as the walls, but this time I wanted to give them a more considered makeover. Following a recommendation from Laura at @houseprojectuk, I added beaded moulding trim to the middle section of the doors, before painting them in COAT's Wilderness Hill in an eggshell finish for durability.

To finish the look, I added the new range of Scroll handles in Dark Brushed Brass from Hendel & Hendel, which instantly elevated the overall look. I absolutely love the finished design and it’s a great way to make IKEA feel custom!

The pieces that tell our story

While we were in Margate I picked up several vintage finds, including a beautiful hand-stitched throw and a few prints that helped bring the room together.

Those collected pieces are what make a space feel personal. Margate House is full of unique little trinkets and characterful details, so I followed the same approach at home by gathering meaningful items from around our house.

Books, travel finds, family memorabilia and handmade artwork from the girls all found a place somewhere in the room. They're the pieces that tell our story, and for me, that's what makes a bedroom feel truly special. Oh and don’t forget plants (we love a plant).

Making it your own

Of course, I could have bought the same artwork, made a wavy headboard, copied styling and recreated the boutique hotel look. But that's never really the point. The beauty of inspiration is taking elements you love and adapting them to suit your space, lifestyle and personality.

For me, Margate House provided the perfect starting point, but the finished room still feels unmistakably ours and is in keeping with the rest of our house. It doesn’t feel like a Pinterest post, it feels like a lived in and loved space to relax and enjoy.

So take inspiration wherever you find it, but don't forget to make it your own. That's what transforms a beautiful room into a home.

Home decorator and content creator Leah Hodson is one of Ideal Home's new Open House contributors, sharing her thoughts on overhauling a home with clever DIY and decorating tricks. See the rest of her articles here.

I secretly love a bathroom renovation, one of the few rooms where I get to sit back and let the contractors do their work! Bathrooms are an everyday essential that need to be both beautiful and functional – all the while being cosy at the same time too!

Having done bathroom renovations twice (in my previous house and our current one), here are a couple tips on how I’m designing and sourcing my en-suite.

Tiles

Tiles can be costly, but spending wisely and checking second hand market places can help keep the prices down. I previously bought 10m2 of mosaic travertine tiles for only £30. This time around, I didn’t have much luck on the second hand shopping front, but I’ve found cheap clearance tiles on Johnson Tiles outlet store which I’ll be using in the shower.

They can also be a fun way to add texture and colour to your bathroom. I’m adding that splash of bold colour by using pink marble tiles called ‘Capri Sunset’ from Mandarin Stone for the rest of the bathroom floor.

My secret to a considered bathroom design is grey grout, or coloured grout. White grout makes tiles look dated and they stain so easily. I love using grey grout as it hides limescale stains very well!

Bathroom fittings

Taps and shower fixtures are one area where I’ve tried to save money in the past, and it’s a decision I’ve come to regret. They’re frequently used in the bathroom, so investing in a better quality fitting pays off in the long run when it comes to upkeep and looking as good as it does, years after installation.

Even though our en-suite ceiling height is only 2 metres, having an overhead shower was a non-negotiable for me. Thankfully, Roper Rhodes have a ceiling mounted shower head that is perfect for my en-suite! Their other bathroom fittings are also beautifully designed and high quality that’s made to last!

For the first time, I’m opting for a concealed shower system. I’ve always avoided them because of an unfounded fear of leaks hidden behind the wall, choosing exposed shower systems instead.

But after years of cleaning tirelessly, and constantly battling limescale in all those hard-to-reach spots, I’ve finally been won over. A concealed system not only looks more streamlined, but should also make keeping the bathroom clean that little bit easier.

Lighting

When my electrician told us he’s going to charge us for every point, I was stressed! Did you know every downlight is considered a point? Me neither! Tip: It’s always worth checking how many points are included in your renovation!

I tried keeping the number of points low, however, I still ended up with seven points! My en-suite is a long room with one tiny window at one end of the room, next to the shower, so alternative light options are essential. I’ve opted for three equally spaced downlights, above the shower, toilet and the vanity, to evenly light up the space.

I would’ve liked wall lights, but I am lacking in wall space so I opted for a light up wall mirror from Roper Rhodes that also de-mists! What I’m most excited about the mirror is that it has a motion sensor so no more jumpscares or turning on the wrong light in the middle of the night!

After renovating two bathrooms, I’ve realised that the best decisions aren’t always the trendiest or the cheapest – they’re the ones that make everyday life easier, with a side of bougie. Renovating is often a process of trial and error, and whilst I wouldn't change the lessons I've learnt along the way, I'm hoping this time I've found the sweet spot between what is practical and what looks beautiful too.

Amanda Jones is one of Ideal Home's new Open House contributors, sharing her thoughts on sustainable living and decorating a home in way that is good for the environment. See the rest of her articles here.

I love art, and I’ve bought some fabulous vintage pieces over the years. I buy art instinctively, and until recently, like lots of people, I’ve not thought too much about the artist, why they paint, or how they live their lives.

I go with my gut when choosing art. I never look at what’s trending, I just buy purely based on how a painting makes me feel, and colour is a massive draw to me. I’m a bit partial to a female portrait, much to my family’s despair, who do not share my enthusiasm. Last year I was asked not to bring anymore ‘strange women’ into the house, but to be honest, I’m not sure how much longer I can hold out, I LOVE female portraits.

I quite like an old frame too, one with bits missing, a bit of gilt, or one that someone painted many years ago, and that’s now a bit faded and chipped. Many of my paintings don’t even have frames, they are just propped up against the wall or piece of furniture, or strategically placed to hide a plug socket (another thing that irritates my family).

Most of my art is old oil paintings. I love the texture of oils, and that they don’t fade from the sun that streams through our windows. I don’t just hang art on my walls, I also have a huge vintage map of Great Britian and Ireland on my wall, it’s an old school chart, snapped up at a bargain price. The more colourful and quirkier something is, the more I love it.

For my 50^th birthday my friend bought me a beautiful painting of Venice, it’s one of my favourite cities. That painting was the start of a small collection of Venice paintings, I’ve bought over the years. They are now grouped together on my dining room wall. All from different eras, different styles, and different frames, but work together so well.

I mainly buy from small sellers in person, at vintage fairs or online. One of my favourite sellers is my good friend Julia, who sells art on her Instagram Antikquity and she also has a shop in Nottinghamshire. In her shop you’ll find some very eclectic and interesting art works.

Whilst I can appreciate art, and the skill of the artist, I had thought very little about the artist, why they paint, or how they manage to make a living through their art. That changed last year when my daughter Mia, returned from university.

After going to see a David Hockney exhibition, she was inspired to start painting again. She loved painting so much, she decided to set up her art business, Art By Mia Jones, over on Instagram. Over the past year Mia has sold original oils and sent hundreds of prints across the world.

For a new artist, just starting out, she has done very well. That said, this last year has been hard, a steep learning curve. I don’t think Mia realised how difficult it would be to create art, run a business, and promote yourself on social media. As I’ve watched all her highs, and lows over the last year, it has given me a deep appreciation for artists, especially those just starting out.

Although I’ve mainly bought vintage art in the past, I also know there are many wonderfully talented artists out there, so I’ve made a pledge, after seeing how hard my own daughter has worked, to try and support more of them.

This year I’ve not only bought some of my own daughters’ paintings, but I’ve also supported other artists too. I’ve bought a painting from Fiona Cumberpatch and a screenprint from Hannah Carvell, a fellow Open House writer. Both pieces have added another layer to my home, another part of my story.

If you love art and interiors, please consider supporting some of the independent artists out there. Let’s avoid the mass produced, AI generated prints, and focus more on individual artists. Whether it’s buying a small print, or commissioning a larger piece of art, the artist will be very appreciative of your custom.

If you can’t afford to buy anything right now, engaging in their social media platforms, liking and sharing their content, is another way you can help them.

After many years of buying vintage paintings, I’m now starting to view things a little differently, yes, I will continue to buy second-hand, but I will also be seeking out beautiful, interesting art, directly from living, breathing artists. Art really can enhance our homes and bring us much joy, let’s in turn support the amazing artists and creatives out there.

Home decorator and content creator Grace H is one of Ideal Home's new Open House contributors, sharing her thoughts on colourful home design, mixing vintage pieces with new and making personality-filled spaces. See the rest of her articles here.

Designing a bathroom from scratch is one of the most rewarding yet challenging things you can do – not to mention costing an absolute fortune if, like me, you have expensive tastes without the bank balance to back them up.

Our bathroom is teeny-tiny (less than 2m x 2m), and during the renovation, I made a few... controversial design choices. Everyone warned me against my decisions, but by thinking outside the box, we created our dream space. If you're currently planning a remodel, I hope our deep dive inspires you to trust your gut, even when everyone else thinks you've lost it.

1. The great tile rebellion

The default setting for most bathrooms is tiles everywhere. But after inheriting a sterile, cold room with floor-to-ceiling white tiles, I knew I wanted something different. I wanted something softer, warmer, and less... well, "bathroomy."

Initially, I pictured tongue-and-groove panelling on the lower half of the walls with wallpaper on top. However, my other half quickly vetoed the wallpaper, worrying that poor ventilation in such a small space would cause it to peel. After a brief sulk, I moved on to Plan B: a full, dramatic colour drench.

When I pitched the panelling idea to friends and family, the skepticism flooded in. Because we have a shower over the bath, everyone was convinced the wood would get wet, warp, and be ruined in a flash. My secret weapon? A vintage-inspired, wrap-around shower curtain. I reasoned that it would contain the water, while a good extractor fan would handle the humidity.

My dad was entirely unconvinced, uttering the fateful words:

“I’m telling you now, you’ll regret it.”

Do you know what? I don't.

2. The shower curtain logic

My theory worked perfectly. A year and a half later, the tongue-and-groove is still in mint condition. We installed a Victorian-style, wrap-around shower pole suspended from the ceiling. On the outside sits a decorative, waterproof striped curtain to add character and charm; on the inside, two liners keep the water in the bath.

It doesn’t feel claustrophobic at all, and no, the curtain doesn’t cling to you while you wash. It’s actually incredibly spacious, and I’d do it again in a heartbeat.

2. Re-thinking the storage formula

The obvious way to add storage to a small bathroom is to install a vanity unit to hide away ugly toiletries. That was our original plan, and we even had a custom unit made. But once it was in the room, it looked incredibly chunky and made the space feel half its size. (The failed vanity has since found a second life as a bar cart downstairs!)

Instead, we decided to build a bespoke cabinet to sit on the ledge running along the sink and toilet wall. But this presented a new problem: if a massive cupboard was occupying the wall, where would the shower head go?

Showers don’t have to be wall-mounted

Back on went my thinking cap. I started researching ceiling-mounted shower heads and found they are surprisingly easy to source. After a quick explanation and some random scribbles on scrap paper, my brother-in-law extraordinaire – who was fitting the bathroom for us – made it a reality. Leaving the wall free of shower plumbing meant my storage dreams could finally come true.

Sinks matter

With storage sorted, we could keep the sink super simple. We chose a period-inspired pedestal sink with an integrated towel rail to keep things neat. Getting rid of a boxy floor unit meant you could see more of the floor, creating the optical illusion of a much larger room.

3. The pink bath of my dreams

Once the shower situation was resolved, I finally realised my childhood dream of owning a freestanding bath. It’s not the obvious choice for a tiny room, and because I wanted it painted in a bold pop of colour, the naysayers returned. I was told it was a terrible idea and that the paint would chip instantly.

By this point, you might notice a theme: I didn't listen. Today, there isn’t a single chip or flake of paint in sight. It looks just as vibrant as the day it was painted.

4. Making a small bathroom even smaller

In a move that defied all logic, we actually brought our walls inward to hide a concealed toilet cistern. We also squared off the external window wall to allow for a deeper windowsill. My dad’s voice was ringing in my ears once again: “Who makes a small bathroom even smaller?!”

But I knew in my gut it would look more streamlined. Zero regrets! We now have two highly usable ledges (the windowsill and the ledge running across the toilet wall) that weren’t there before. They are the perfect perch for everyday essentials like toothbrushes and room spray, and even the occasional bunch of fresh flowers.

5. Saving on walls, splurging on floors

Because we saved so much money by skipping wall tiles, we had room left in the budget to spend on the floor. It was love at first sight when I found our statement floor tiles online, and the entire colour scheme of the bathroom ended up being based around them.

If you’re reading this and thinking you need to reign in your own design ideas to play it safe, take a second look at your plans. You might just find that the conventional choices are the crazy ones after all. The Moral of the Story

Trust your gut and don't be afraid to deviate from the standard manual. So many people made me question whether I was delusional or whether my ideas were even physically possible. It turns out they were – I just wasn't doing things the conventional way.

Strategist and content creator Francesca Swan is one of Ideal Home's new Open House contributors, sharing her thoughts on the concept of 'Everything' and what makes a home special to you. See the rest of her articles here.

As our renovation finally winds up, I’ve got a LOT of decisions to make and, in truth, I’m overwhelmed and losing my confidence.

My fatigued, yet over-active ADHD brain is tying me in knots – an unhelpful, yet familiar feeling. My go-to method of unpicking said knots is panic buying and snap decisions. Cue multiple time-consuming returns and a redecorating job in the kitchen.

That aside, thankfully life is a little calmer now, creating the bandwidth to start som very overdue deep therapy. It’s challenging work, but also brilliantly rewarding.

I’m getting to know myself, learning to be more open, connect more honestly and better understand my feelings and experiences. In turn, it’s changing how I see the world.

You’d be forgiven for wondering how this is relevant to our Ideal Home universe. However, this personal epiphany has already rippled through my last column on renovation lessons, where I was more brutally honest than ever been before.

That was difficult. I agonise over what people think of me and what to share. Now I feel more able to put this self-doubt aside, and share the full, unfiltered truth about my renovation and design experiences and who I am.

Call it Francesca 2.0 and gird your loins. Let us hope you all find my truth-dumps enjoyable, interesting, and/or useful. I would quite like to keep this gig!

Anyway, now the topic in hand…

I’ve been thinking a lot about my style lately. Can I define and use it to keep my home feeling true to me?

“How do you describe your style?” is a frequent conversation on Instagram. Some people have one neat sentence, whilst others, like me, struggle to find the right words.

I had zero idea when decorating our final rental. I simply cut and paste what I saw in the homes of a few zeitgeisty idols.

That can work, yet the risk is not reflecting your true personality or values. Sure enough, that apartment looked fine, but was generic with no sense of meaningful connection, belonging or joy – that essential intuition I now call my Everything feeling.

There’s a questionable collection of cityscape pictures still gathering dust in our storage – tell me you decorated in the 2010s without telling me you decorated in the 2010s. We lived with them for five years, but they were bought to fill a space and had no meaning.

Then late the other night, my mind noisily reshuffling my to-do list and fingers itching to shop for things we definitely didn’t need, I had a blindingly obvious, head-in-hands realisation. Although my interior style is hard to pin down, it always starts with my Everything pieces that feel innately true to me and make sure my home does too.

Pulling it back to this calmed and focused me.

Yet what is the difference between discovering a true Everything piece and the fleeting, dopamine-fuelled rush of a well-styled “must-have” mirror to match the cushion you’ve also just impulse bought?

It might be a forever piece. Or you might find yourself waiting untold hours for DPD to collect the return. We’ve all been there. Nothing is an exact science, and we don’t always get it right first time.

However, these countless red flags told me I’d lost my way and needed a big step back to properly understand what is important to my style and how I make decisions. I needed an anchor to ground me against panic buys and procrastination.

The goal is to confidently and intentionally fill our homes with personal, inspiring, value led things create an Everything connection with our mind, body and heart

Great. But how?

Pay attention and notice more

I recently visited the wonderful Modo Art Gallery, devoted purely to the remarkable David Hockney – without question my favourite artist since childhood.

Until then, I’d not fully absorbed his recent passing. Not only the loss of this irreplaceable visionary, but also what his work means to me. Viewing “Beneath the Surface: Swimming Pool Exhibition”, was the opportunity I needed.

Hockney’s central philosophy was encouraging people to look more carefully at the world around them, and to see and think differently.

What happens when you slow down, pause and pay attention? When you look longer and properly experience the world? When you go deeper beyond what you think you see and know?

I then stumbled on an interesting exercise in being present. Simply pick an object and describe it in purely sensory terms: what you see, feel, smell, hear or taste, without including any wider meaning. It’s tougher than it sounds.

Drinking a cup of coffee, for instance. You can see the steam rising from the dark

brown, slightly translucent liquid. The smell is rich and layered, with chocolate, fruit and something more earthy. The taste is warmly bitter, yet sweet, changing and lingering in your mouth.

It’s a shift in thinking and experiencing, but once you get the hang of it, surprisingly rewarding and rather fun.

Combining this with Hockney’s own words – “the world is far richer, more interesting, and more beautiful than we often allow ourselves to notice” – was a timely wake-up call.

We live in a world with myriad conflicting, often unhelpful things constantly competing for our attention. Social media. Too much choice. Awful news updates incessantly shouting from our phones.

Digital has huge value, but also huge downfalls. It cannot capture light, smell, touch – the beautiful, physical experiences of the world.

It can be overwhelming. We unconsciously start to shut down, blocking out all the noise. Ever feel like you’re on autopilot and an observer in your own life? Yep, me too.

It’s easy to unintentionally stop noticing the things that matter and are fundamental to our sense of self and well-being.

Relaxing outside, enjoying the gently warm late evening sunshine, rays of soft green dappled light filtered through the leaves of an ancient oak tree. The sculptural curves and vibrant colours of a vase won in a furious eBay bidding war.

When we stop noticing beauty and lose sight of what’s important in our world, we can lose confidence creating our homes. Instead, we copy. Follow trends. Buy impulsively. Decorate reactively. But does this reflect us or create our Everything feeling? Not to mention stand the test of time.

If we slow down to intentionally become more present and curious, we can properly capture things we’ve overlooked before.

Why do we repeatedly choose and love certain things? How does that knowledge inform our personal design language and help our homes feel more meaningful, coherent and individual?

By consciously grounding ourselves, we rein in our reactive autopilot and allow our inspiration and confidence to flourish. We can purposefully create from our heart and soul for lasting style and a home that truly feels like us.

My lightbulb moment

In the name of research, I applied this thinking to the Everything pieces in my home to understand what they reveal about me and the design of our apartment.

The findings have been liberating, useful and surprisingly eye-opening – valuable insights to inform my thinking and decision-making as I finish the apartment, but also hugely important for my life in general.

The biggest realisation wasn't about my style. It was about my values.

The pieces that I love aren't connected by a colour palette or design era. They're connected by meaning. They reflect my beliefs, curiosities and how I want to experience the world.

Suddenly things made much more sense.

So, with no further ado, welcome to my personal Everything pieces hall of fame.

Books, magazines and art

Our home is jam-packed with books, magazines and art and my collections will continue to grow.

My Vogue magazine coffee table. Exhibition posters we've loved for years. Pictures of my icons – Joan Didion, Patti Smith and David Bowie. My library, displayed as art in its own right.

They're permanent reminders there's always something new to learn, ideas to explore and perspectives to consider and gentle daily nudges towards thought and inspiration.

There's so much in this world I haven't yet seen and don't know. I want to keep discovering, experiencing as much as possible and constantly feeding my curiosity.

Natural materials

Marble. Wood. Linen. Jute. Limewash. Plants. These trigger something deep within me. They subtly, almost primevally make me feel calmer, more present and emotionally grounded, reminding me of my connection to something bigger and more permanent than myself.

I instinctively knew I wanted a lot of marble in our apartment. I’m fascinated by the age old process of metamorphism that creates this incredibly resilient yet endlessly beautiful material, with its infinite richness of coloured veining and texture.

Our kitchen, bathrooms, hallway, cloakroom and living room all celebrate and remind me of that.

One-of-a-kind pieces

My Everything pieces all tell a story.

The £10 chair bought on Facebook Marketplace 13 years ago, squirrelled away in storage until I finally found a place for it. Now reupholstered in Pierre Frey fabric – a bargain eBay find – it’s an incredible one-off that is also a sentimental snapshot of our life together. It makes me smile and feel grateful.

I love pre-loved objects, imbibed with experiences and memories I can't see but know are there. My brutalist-inspired scrolled metal kitchen chairs never fail to spark momentary glimmers of their rich, mysterious history - what they’ve seen and where they’ve been.

I also adore the thrill of the hunt and a good bargain, not least because I’m on a permanent budget. My brand new Arteriors metal chandelier was bought for a tiny fraction of the retail price and is a constant source of slightly smug pride.

I always shop my home first. The huge live-edge oak desk, made for my old office by an independent maker, didn’t fit when we moved and was relegated to storage. Then inspiration struck. Cut down slightly, painted a contrasting colour…et voila, the perfect forever dining table

Practical game-changing essentials

Everything pieces don't have to be decorative. Some are purely practical.

Reformer Pilates has genuinely changed my life, helping me find my way back to myself. Having a gym with a reformer is probably my greatest luxury.

I absolutely worship that machine. I talk to her as we work out together. Before and after every session, I clean and check her over. I know it's a bit weird, but she was an investment, she's beautifully engineered and she deserves to be looked after.

This slightly obsessive care doesn't end there. I'm incredibly particular about the features in our home.

They're not living things, but they're still precious to me. Caring for them properly shows respect – both for my surroundings and myself – whilst also helping them last longer.

There is a balance. Things are also meant to be used. Just light the Le Labo candle, Francesca. It's been four years already.

My Everything guidelines

Through these pieces, a pattern of my values emerges and tells the story of my design.

A constant, curious and open-minded quest for knowledge, discovery and new ways of doing things.

I'm deeply conscious of sustainability and waste, which is why we've found a use for every centimetre of the offcut marble from our kitchen.

Individuality and the unusual also matter. I love creating unexpected and intriguing conversations between objects that shouldn’t work together, yet somehow do.

Front of mind connection, respect and love for the people in my life, where I live and the experiences that have shaped me.

Then perhaps the biggest lightbulb moment of all... My Everything feeling is fundamentally about things that make me notice, think and feel.

Given my recent diagnosis of combined ADHD, it makes perfect sense. My hyper-active brain is constantly seeking stimulation, ideas and newness. Learning this has been one of the most positive and empowering moments of my life.

My mind needs feeding, but also space to rest. My Everything pieces give me both, stimulating my curiosity whilst simultaneously grounding me. I now truly understand why they're so important to me.

"The Everything Test"

So what does all this mean for you?

It boils down to one question: How do your values, beliefs and personality come to life through your style?

Enter stage left, “The Everything Test”. A simple, yet effective method I’ve coined and hope you’ll enjoy.

Start by walking slowly around your home and noticing things properly. Select the special pieces that instinctively draw you. Spend time using all your senses to describe them and why they matter.

Ask yourself:

What does it make me feel?

Why do I own this?

What story does it tell?

Would I choose it again?

What does it reveal about me?

Don’t think too much about the objects themselves. Pay attention to the answers.

Patterns, similarities and differences will become clear around them. Stories and memories. Colours. Shapes. Materials. Texture and smell. Where they came from and why you cherish them.

Those patterns become your personal design language – a flexible framework to more confidently make better decisions that are true to you, now and for years to come.

Designing intentionally

Creating a lasting and unique interior style isn't something we simply choose. The instinct behind what we love is ultimately deeply value-led.

We uncover it by paying closer attention to what matters to us, understanding why and allowing this knowledge to shape our homes.

Paradoxically, understanding your design language and principles behind what you love doesn’t restrict you. It frees you to experiment more confidently, safe in the knowledge you’re likely to create a cohesive and personal home that stands the test of time.

"Do I like this?" is replaced by a simpler and easier question to answer; "Does this belong in my story?"

This idea reaches further than interiors. It is a choice to live intentionally and curiously. To be present and actively connect with experiences, rather than passively observing.

Never forget the best things in life are wonderfully, tangibly real.

The smoothly worn surface of a wooden table beneath your fingertips. The changing tones of a linen bedsheet in the afternoon light. The smell of a wood fire on a rainy day. The weight of your favourite mug. The reassuring softness of the chair you've loved for fifteen years. The marble whose story began millions of years before yours.

They already surround you. Just pause and and notice them properly.

Home decorator Ammarah Hasham is one of Ideal Home's new Open House contributors, sharing her thoughts infusing her rental house with plenty of personality. See the rest of her articles here.

"Keep the flowers. Pass me the stripes." That was me. For years.

Floral handbags? Absolutely not! (They’re still waiting outside my wardrobe). Ten years ago, I’d have admired a room wrapped in roses before returning home relieved it wasn’t mine.

I liked my interiors with a touch of rebellion. Still do. Sharp silhouettes. Bold colours. Clean lines. Everything else was figured out the messy way, one decorating disaster at a time. Patterned blooms, to me, felt a little too... well-behaved.

I’d convinced myself that people who decorated with florals were simply wired differently.

They had matching china.

Their delicate teapots wore tea cosies.

There was always a loaf of sourdough proving on the kitchen counter, and somehow it always rose. Then, I did the unthinkable. At least in my crisp-lined world.

I soft-launched florals into my life. Not with dainty roses or ditsy blooms. This wasn’t your traditional floral. Not the tea cosy type. The way I can best describe is that it felt as though exotic chinoiserie and regal botanicals had a very stylish baby.

The wallpaper that I fell for was Imperial Orange by Graham & Brown. It was floral with attitude. That’s what I wanted.

One botanical project led to another. Then, another. Before I knew it, I felt bold enough to buy a chair, flowers and all.

The wallpaper made me trust my own taste. Normally, I would have done it the other way round. A small piece of furniture first to test the waters before committing to a floral room. But, I guess, inspiration has a mind of its own. When it arrives, it doesn’t ask for directions. And, who was I to argue?

The Graham & Green button-back Suzani chair had been sitting on one of my Pinterest board for years. The only thing standing in its way was me.

A completely unnecessary amount of resistance.I didn’t stop there. One floral chair soon turned into two. Another Graham and Green chair followed. One I was absolutely willing to eat cereal for dinner to bring it home.

The funny thing is, I still wasn't drawn to traditional ditsy florals. Mine had to be oversized, bold and graphic. An entire bedroom got wallpapered in lemons. Well… lemons and pink vines. Lemons aren't technically flower but I’m counting them.

The citrus grove became the happiest room in the house. I turned the colour dial all the way up by pairing bold botanicals with my old faithful: checkerboard. Pattern clashing was at its happiest and so was I.

And then things really escalated… Flower power reached my master bedroom. Minimalists, I think you might want to look away.

It was all about pattern on pattern on pattern. This time I wasn’t experimenting with florals. I was embracing them wholeheartedly and knew exactly how I wanted the place to feel…A joyful cocoon of colour, pattern and florals.

I wrapped the room in oversized floral patterns and repeated the motifs across the bedding, cushions, and accessories. They were no longer an accent. I let them take over the room and if the decorating rulebook thinks it's all a bit much I'd simply ask, "Dear Rulebook, will you be sleeping here?".

That's the beauty of experimenting with your home. Sometimes, you surprise yourself. Sometimes, it introduces you to a version of your style you never knew existed.

Turns out, I really am that rebel who fell for roses. The question is: what have you ruled out that deserves another look?

Home decorator Lara Winter is one of Ideal Home's Open House contributors, sharing her thoughts on revamping a 200 year old cottage to make it right for modern family life. See the rest of her articles here.

When we moved into our cottage ten years ago, we had exactly the kind of problem we'd spent years hoping for.

We'd bought our dream home.

The only issue was that we'd spent almost all our money buying it.

At the time, my husband and I were moving out of a shared house and into a cottage that felt impossibly grown-up. I was heavily pregnant with our son, and between solicitors, surveys and preparing for a new arrival, furniture wasn't exactly top of the priority list.

What made it worse was that we'd viewed the cottage fully furnished.

The previous owners had beautiful furniture. Large furniture. Proper grown-up furniture. The sort of furniture that made every room feel finished and perfectly at home in the cottage.

Then they moved out.

And we moved in with our IKEA table.

To be fair, it had served us perfectly well in our previous home. But in the cottage it suddenly looked tiny. The rooms felt bigger. The ceilings felt higher. The house we'd fallen in love with somehow felt slightly emptier than we'd imagined.

I still remember one of our neighbours, a lovely older lady, coming round shortly after we moved in. She took one look at our dining table sitting in the middle of the room and laughed.

"Oh dear," she said. "You'll need a bigger table."

She was absolutely right.

I remember feeling slightly disappointed by the mismatch. Not because I expected everything to look perfect, but because I'd spent so long dreaming about the cottage that I'd never really thought about what it would look like on moving day. In my imagination, the dream house and the dream interiors had arrived together.

In reality, we got the house first.

Then our son arrived.

As it turns out, newborn babies are remarkably uninterested in interior design. They don't care whether your dining chairs match, whether your furniture suits the room or whether the house feels finished. They mostly care about sleeping, eating and ensuring that nobody else gets much sleep either.

For a while, everything stayed exactly as it was.

Looking back, I think that's the stage nobody talks about enough. We often see the before and after. The empty room and the beautiful reveal. The dramatic transformation and the finished space. What we rarely see is the awkward middle bit.

The room with the temporary table that somehow stays for years. The inherited cabinet you're not quite sure about. The lamp that's only there because you already owned it. The years when a house is still becoming itself.

Eventually, little by little, things began to change.

I started thrifting. We replaced the tiny dining table with one that actually suited the room. I painted old cabinets and transformed second-hand finds into pieces that felt more personal. Some projects worked brilliantly. Others looked considerably better in my imagination.

But over time, the cottage slowly started catching up with the vision I'd had when we first moved in.

Not because we suddenly spent a fortune furnishing it, but because we added things gradually. One piece at a time. One project at a time. One lucky second-hand find at a time.

Looking back now, I'm actually glad it happened that way.

Every room tells the story of those years. The painted furniture. The thrifted pieces. The marketplace finds that somehow turned out to be exactly what we needed. None of it arrived overnight, and perhaps that's exactly what makes it feel like ours.

These days, social media can make it seem as though homes appear fully formed the moment the keys are handed over. But in reality, most homes evolve slowly. Life gets in the way. Budgets are limited. Priorities shift.

Sometimes the dream house comes first and the furniture follows years later.

And thankfully, we did eventually buy a bigger table.

Committed home renovators David and Andrew Harrison-Colley (better known on Instagram as The Home Boys) are part of Ideal Home's new Open House contributors, sharing their thoughts on making a home together and living through the tricky parts. See the rest of their articles here.

There’s a stack of bricks at the bottom of our garden that has been waiting, very patiently, for the best part of three years. We walk past it most days. For a long time it was just there – a slightly accusatory pile, the physical embodiment of a job we kept promising to get to and never quite did.

This summer, finally, the bricks are getting their moment. And it turns out that slightly mad decision we made three years ago – the one everyone raised an eyebrow at - was one of the best we’ve made.

The maddest thing we ever did (and the best)

When we took down the old carpenter’s workshop to make way for the extension, we had thousands of perfectly good traditional Suffolk bricks on our hands. The easiest thing – the thing a normal person with a skip and a deadline would do – was to get rid of them.

Instead, we sat in the garden over numerous weeks and cleaned every single one by hand.

Bolster chisel in one hand, brick in the other, chipping away decades of old mortar until we had neat, reusable stacks. It was slow, dusty, knuckle-scraping work, and there were definitely moments we questioned our life choices (a recurring theme around here).

But reclaimed brick has something you simply can’t buy new. It’s weathered, varied in tone, soft at the edges – every one slightly different. New bricks look new. These look like they belong. And crucially, they cost us nothing but time, which suited a renovation that has eaten money in every other direction.

Finishing what we started

First on the list was the retaining wall we started – and abandoned – three years ago. We’d built the structural base from breeze blocks, always intending to face it in our reclaimed bricks, and then life (and the inside of the house) got in the way. It sat there half-finished and quietly judging us ever since.

Facing it has been deeply satisfying. The breeze-block bones of the new retaining wall we also started 3 years ago have disappeared behind a skin of old brick, and a wall that read as “building site” now reads as “always been here.” Same structure, completely different feeling. It’s remarkable what a brick facing does.

The only job left is the top. We’re after some coping stones to cap the wall - partly the finishing flourish, partly to stop water sitting on the brick over winter – and, true to form, we’re holding out for the right reclaimed ones rather than settling for something too crisp and new.

If past form is anything to go by, that hunt could take a while, but we’d rather wait than get it nearly right.

Edging the lawn (the mow-over trick)

The job we’re most pleased with, though, is the simplest: edging the lawn in brick.

Our lawn has always been a slightly apologetic shape – mown, but never really defined. So we’ve been running a flush brick edge around it, set level with the grass so the mower can ride straight over the top. No more strimming a fiddly edge by hand, no more lawn creeping into the borders. A small detail that completely changes how intentional the whole garden feels.

The method is more forgiving than it looks. We dig out a shallow trench, lay a sub-base of compacted hardcore, then a bedding layer cement. The bricks go on top, laid flat, tapped down with a rubber mallet and checked constantly with a spirit level.

We run a length of timber along each side as a guide rail to keep everything dead straight – easily the cheapest and most useful tool in the whole job. As we go, we deliberately shuffle the tones so no single stretch ends up too matchy matchy. With reclaimed brick, that variation is the whole point, but it looks best mixed rather than clustered.

The steps (and the patio we couldn’t wait for)

From there we built a set of brick-and-sleeper steps to tie the levels together – timber sleeper risers with reclaimed brick treads, picking up the same materials so the whole garden speaks one language.

They’re the kind of job that looks like nothing on a sketch and makes an enormous difference in person: suddenly the change in level feels designed rather than accidental, and the bricks carry the eye from the wall down to the lawn.

And here’s where we’ve slightly betrayed our own “one project at a time” rule. The west-facing spot we’ve been saving for a patio was too tempting in this weather, and one of us (no names, but it wasn’t the cautious one) decided we may as well start. So we have.

The same reclaimed bricks are now going down as a patio too – which we’ll cover properly in the next piece, once it actually looks like something rather than a trench, a string line and a lot of optimism.

If you’re working with reclaimed brick

• Clean as you go. Chipping mortar off in batches is far less soul-destroying than facing the whole pile at once. A bolster chisel and a club hammer is all you really need.
• Save – or order – more than you think. Reclaimed brick varies and you’ll lose some to breakages. Far better a surplus than running short mid-row with nothing to match.
• Bed on a sand and cement mix, not soil. A proper sub-base and a sharp sand/cement layer is the difference between an edge that stays put and one that sinks the first wet winter.
• Use a timber guide rail. A straight length of timber down each side keeps your lines honest far better than your eye will.
• Mix the tones deliberately. Shuffle light and dark, pink and grey, as you lay. Clustering happens by accident; blending takes a few extra seconds.

The long game

There’s a particular satisfaction in this stage that the inside of the house rarely gave us. Indoor jobs were slow and incremental – a whole weekend on one corner of a room. Out here, a trench becomes a wall, a scrappy lawn edge becomes a crisp line, and you can stand back at the end of the day and actually see it.

But the best bit is quieter than that. It’s standing in the garden, looking at bricks that came out of a building we knocked down three years ago, now laid into walls and edges and (soon) a patio – and realising the slightly mad version of us who refused to throw them away knew exactly what they were doing.

They look like they’ve always been here. In a way, they have.

Screen printer Hannah Carvell is one of Ideal Home's new Open House contributors, sharing her thoughts on colourful home design for a creative family to live in. See the rest of her articles here.

I finally took the plunge and gave our staircase a makeover. It's something I'd been thinking about for a while. We live in a cottage, so there is no sweeping staircase making a grand first impression. Ours is a simple, functional flight of stairs that leads directly into the living room. Perfectly practical, but over the years the varnished wood had taken on that familiar orange hue that never quite feels at home in an old cottage.

The irony is that I'm a complete sucker for aged pine. I spend far too much time admiring antique furniture with chipped paint, worn edges and decades of character. The more rugged the better. My staircase, however, felt a little too shiny and a little too new, so I decided it was time for a change.

I should point out that I had absolutely no formal plan. To my husband's eternal frustration, I am very much the sort of person who gets an idea and immediately starts a project, armed with little more than optimism and the question, "How hard can it be?".

My starting point was colour. I knew I wanted to introduce more of it into the house and I loved the idea of combining painted stairs with a striped runner. The challenge, as always, was achieving the look on a budget.

Because the staircase opens directly into our living room, I wanted it to feel connected to the rest of the house. The living room already features plenty of green and blue tones and, I'm planning a green colour-drenched scheme in the future, I decided this was the perfect opportunity to introduce a brighter blue instead. A striped runner featuring both green and blue felt like a simple way to tie the two spaces together.

The runner became my starting point. Anyone who has priced up stair runners will know they can be eye-wateringly expensive (not to mention adding in underlay and a professional to fit it for you), but Habitat has become one of my favourite places to browse for affordable homeware. I found a striped runner I loved for just £30 - I also really liked the Selby but at £75 (and I needed three) it wasn’t quite in my budget but the colours and quality deserve a mention.

Now, this was always going to be a DIY project rather than a professional installation, so instead of ordering a made-to-measure runner, I bought three matching runners and planned to piece them together myself. Even buying three at £30 kept the total comfortably under £100.

For the paint, I ordered several Rust-Oleum floor paint samples and was sorely tempted by a beautiful pale dusty blue shade called Nana's Best China. In the end, however, I decided that if I was going to paint the staircase, I might as well commit properly. Cornflower Blue won a fresh bright blue.

To finish the look, I ordered antique brass stair rods from Dunelm in the hope that they would elevate the whole project from one of my slightly mad decorating schemes to something a little more polished.

The process itself was surprisingly enjoyable. I gave the stairs a quick sand using an electric sander we already had in the shed, followed by an undercoat and two coats of Rustoleum Floor paint.

The paint went on beautifully, had very little odour and dried quickly (within the hour) enough that I wasn't fielding complaints from the rest of the family. It has a lovely powdery matt finish to it which I prefer to a gloss.

Installing the runner turned out to be my favourite part. Armed with a staple gun, I worked my way down the staircase securing each section in place.

I had wondered how I would disguise the joins between the three runners, but by positioning them beneath the stair treads they became almost invisible. After what felt like hundreds of staples, the runner was finally in place.

The antique brass stair rods were the finishing touch. They're not quite as snug as they would be with a professionally fitted runner and underlay, but visually they make all the difference. They add just enough detail to make the whole staircase feel less like a mad DIY project and more like a professional job.

What I love most is how much character the makeover has brought into a space that was previously easy to overlook. The staircase now feels like part of the house rather than simply a route between floors.

It's colourful, practical and infinitely more interesting than the orange varnished wood that was there before. Even my teenage children came home, looked at it and declared that it looked good. Honestly, I can't think of a higher compliment than that.

The entire project cost a fraction of what it would to bring in the professionals and took me a weekend to complete and has completely changed the feel of our hallway.

Not bad for one of those decorating ideas that started with no real plan at all.

Content creator Lucy Kalice is one of Ideal Home's Open House contributors, sharing her thoughts on cleaning, home decor and making the most of small spaces. See the rest of her articles here.

I’d like to think I’m pretty savvy when it comes to spending money on the house (my husband might not agree). I really do think you can get some good quality pieces without spending the big bucks. But I would argue that there are definitely items that are worth spending every single penny on.

So here are some of my little luxuries that are non-negotiable in our home.

Good quality bin bags

When we did our first supermarket shop after moving in to our home, I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw there were bin bags costing £4/£5…I remember thinking who is even buying them?! Oh how naive I was.

After about the 20th time of the cheap bin bags ripping because they were so thin, I tried the bin bags from a brand called Beast and wow, I have never looked back. They fit the bin perfectly, they are so strong and they have drawstring handles…chefs kiss.

Thick Toilet Paper

Single ply toilet paper should be banned…there I said it.

Get the expensive stuff, the Andrex Ultimate Quilt is our go-to. It’s soft, it’s comfortable and you don’t have to worry about any breakage.

Two duvets

I’m proud to say we are a 2 duvet household. Summer duvet and winter duvet. I would go as far to say that this isn’t even a luxury, this is essential.

A low tog duvet for summer simply won’t cut it in the winter and that’s that.

Comfortable bed linen

They say we spend a third of our lives in our bed sleeping, so I would argue that calls for nice bed linen. I’m not talking colour, I’m talking thread count and materials.

You want your bed linen to feel soft and comfortable so you need to work out what type you like best. I like my bed sheet to be made from cotton rather than linen, but that’s just personal preference.

Once you know what you like, treat yourself to a set that’s good quality, I find they wash better and last longer.

Good quality kitchen roll

Similarly with the toilet roll, a thick kitchen roll goes a long way. Plenty or Regina are my favourite brands.

They are a little bit more expensive but I think you end up using less anyway because the sheets do go further so it probably evens out.

A good vacuum cleaner

I’ve had a fair few vacuum cleaners in my time and one thing that I’ve realised is the more expensive they are usually means the better they are (better suction, better battery life).

Vacuum cleaners are expensive anyway, so spending a bit more to get a better one will make a huge difference. My favourite is the Shark Power Detect.

Reed diffusers

A nice smelling home makes for a happy home so I have a reed diffuser going in every room at all times.

I don’t even think you need to go expensive, B&M or Home Bargains sell some good ones and they are relatively inexpensive. I just think they are such an easy way to elevate your home.

Food shop delivery

Listen, I love going food shopping and having a proper mooch around. But convenience is king so paying £5 to have my food shopping delivered is worth every penny.

Supermarkets can be stressful and chaotic – I wouldn’t wish a Sunday supermarket trip on my worst enemy. I also find I spend more when I go in the shop because I see all the promotions and offers.

I can also spend the hour or so I would’ve been doing the food shop doing something else. So £5 is a small price to pay for peace and productivity.

Good quality towels

Spoiler alert: thin, hard and fraying towels are not cutting it anymore! That’s the last thing you want when you get out the shower or when you’r drying your hands.

Invest in a set of good quality towels and always tumble dry them because they come out all soft and fluffy!

Having a cleaner

We got a cleaner three years ago and I have never looked back. They come once a fortnight for two hours and it costs us £30 which I think it pretty reasonable.

Two hours is obviously not enough time to do a deep clean so I do clean the house as well but it’s a huge help for my husband and I when we have busy weeks.

What little luxuries do you have in your home?

Interior designer Natalie Jahangiry is one of Ideal Home's new Open House contributors, sharing her thoughts on decorating a home to suit a busy family life while sticking to your aesthetic values, too. See the rest of her articles here.

"I need to keep the palette light in this room because it's small and there's not much natural light." It's a phrase I hear on a regular basis, and perhaps the biggest casualty of our fear of colour is the small or dark room itself. The box room. The spare bedroom. The north facing living room. The awkward spaces you just can’t quite get right, that slowly become a dumping ground for clutter.

For decades we've been told exactly the same thing: if a room is small or dark, paint it white. Keep it light and make it disappear. But what if that's exactly the wrong approach?

One of the biggest myths in interiors is that dark colours make a room feel smaller. It's simply not true. Natural light plays a huge part in how a room feels, so a dark room will be a dark room regardless of the paint colour. In fact, deeper shades can often have the opposite effect.

Rich blues, forest greens, earthy browns and dramatic burgundies soften the boundaries of a room, making the edges feel less defined, particularly when colour drenching a space (as you'll know by now, one of my favourite decorating techniques). Rather than drawing attention to every wall and corner with brilliant white paint, darker tones create depth, atmosphere and a cocooning sense of comfort.

Think about the interiors that have stayed with you over the years. The ones you've saved, photographed or couldn't stop thinking about after visiting. They're rarely the biggest or brightest spaces. More often than not, they're rooms filled with character, warmth and personality, spaces that made you feel something the moment you walked through the door.

Somewhere along the way, we became convinced that every small room should be brightened, enlarged and stripped back. But not every room needs to feel bigger. Sometimes it simply needs to feel better, and that's where the conversation about colour becomes much more interesting.

So who took colour away?

After writing about breaking free from Millennial Grey, I realised there was another question worth asking: why have our homes become so colourless? So I started digging. Before long, I found myself deep in a late night Instagram rabbit hole (you know exactly the kind I mean!), watching creators ask exactly the same question.

One reel in particular compared the rich, colourful identities of historic brands, architecture and public spaces with the muted palettes that dominate today's market.

Another post looked at the most popular paint colours decade by decade, showing just how dramatically our decorating habits have shifted towards softer, safer neutrals.

The more I watched, the more I realised this isn't simply about decorating trends. It's about our relationship with self-expression.

Somewhere along the way, creating a home that appeals to everyone became more important than creating one that reflects the people who actually live there. We've become so focused on resale value, broad appeal and following decorating "rules" that many of us have stopped decorating for ourselves altogether.

Colour isn't just decoration

Colour stimulates the brain while evoking emotion and energy. It can make us feel calm or joyful, creative or confident. It's more than just decoration, it's personality, culture and storytelling.

Yet somewhere along the way we've convinced ourselves that neutral always means timeless, to resell a house it needs to be white and colour somehow feels risky.

Ironically, this cautious approach is most obvious in the smallest rooms. We're told to keep everything light, paint it white and avoid overwhelming the space. But when a room is tiny, every decorating decision carries more impact. Rather than trying to make a small room disappear, why not make it memorable?

As my confidence with interiors has grown, so has my willingness to embrace colour. Looking back, it's one of the best decisions I've made in our home. Every room has its own mood because every room has its own purpose.

The smaller spaces are drenched in rich, cocooning colours that feel intimate rather than cramped, while our north facing rooms are layered with warmer tones to make them feel inviting. Even our downstairs WC will be (soon!) unapologetically dark and dramatic, proving that the smallest spaces can have the biggest personality.

Instead of trying to outsmart the natural light, I've learned to embrace it, working with darker light rather than against it, and creating character where others might see a challenge. Our home feels soooo much more personal because of it.

Bring colour back

A home should first and foremost serve the people who live there. It should be filled with the colours that make you smile when you walk through the door, the shades that remind you of your travels, childhood nostalgia and your happiest memories. Those are the details that make a house feel like yours.

Thankfully, there seems to be a quiet colour rebellion underway. More homes are emerging that reject the pressure to play it safe in favour of bold, characterful interiors that reflect the people who live in them.

Homes layered with colour, pattern, collections and history. Homes that aren't designed to appeal to everyone, but to the people who come home to them every day. I hope that's one trend that's here to stay!

So paint the small room in that rich colour you've been talking yourself out of. Buy the colourful chair. Hang the oversized artwork. Choose the heavily patterned marble splashback. Cover the WC in heavily patterned wallpaper. Stop worrying about whether it's a "safe" choice and start asking yourself a much simpler question: does it make me happy?

Small rooms deserve so much more than simply being treated as spaces that need to feel bigger. They deserve drama, personality and confidence just as much as the largest room in the house.

Instead of asking how we can trick the eye into believing a room is bigger than it is, perhaps we should be asking something entirely different: how can we make it more memorable? After all, the rooms we remember aren't necessarily the biggest or the brightest, they are the ones that made us feel something for the get go.

Home decorator and content creator Leah Hodson is one of Ideal Home's new Open House contributors, sharing her thoughts on overhauling a home with clever DIY and decorating tricks. See the rest of her articles here.

I’ll be honest, I have a love-hate relationship with AI. When it comes to dealing with admin (like writing difficult emails) or arduous, monotonous tasks, AI is my go to assistant. But when I’m being creative like doing DIY, reimagining a room, or crafting, I hesitate to use AI as I worry that it will stifle my creativity.

Creativity is something that is deeply personal and the idea of handing over any part of the process to technology feels very uncomfortable. I’ve tried asking AI how to use C24 timber (that my builders left in the skip) to make into a bench, and their designs were highly textbook that I gave up altogether after several prompts.

However, recently I was introduced to Google’s AI tool, Google Gemini, and how it can be a great assistant when carrying out DIY tasks. I recently attended an event where Edge Upholstery taught us how to upcycle an IKEA KYRRE stool, hosted by Google Gemini. I’ve never tried upholstering and it’s been on my DIY list to learn one day!

The lovely Claire and Nicola showed how to use upholstery spray to stick the 1inch foam and 4oz poly wadding onto the seat. Then, they used Gemini Live to demonstrate how you can speak to the app to ask questions and troubleshoot live.

They asked Gemini how long after spraying to know that it’s ready, and if it’s possible to reposition the pieces after adhering.

These were questions that I would've asked too! I’m guilty of diving straight into a DIY project after only doing minimal research. Oftentimes, I’m quickly faced with multiple problems to troubleshoot because of my lack of in depth research. This is where I think AI comes in handy!

After sticking the foam and wadding to the seat, it was time to use the pneumatic stapler! It wasn’t as scary to use as a nail gun but having stapled my fingers with a stapler when I was younger, I was cautious. I stapled a wool safe felt barrier (a flame retardant interliner) using the pneumatic stapler.

Deciding on the fabric was one of the hardest parts of upholstering for me, apart from the initial fear of using the pneumatic stapler! There were so many options and all of them were so beautiful that I was spoilt for choice!

I couldn’t decide between 2 different striped options, a red thin stripe and a chunky black ticking stripe. I asked Gemini to show me how they will both look like on the KYRRE stool, and the image it generated confirmed for me that red was too busy for my liking.

Another way to use AI during upholstering is to check for print placement - very useful because my husband is very particular with things being straight and plumb. So a quick question to Gemini and it told me I was ‘incredibly close’ and how to fix it.

I’ll take ‘incredibly close’, thank you! Knowing that it was (almost) straight, I had the confidence to staple the rest of the fabric in place.

The end product looks professionally made - you wouldn’t believe it was my first attempt at upholstering! And when I was asked where it would go, I asked Gemini to create an image of how it will look in my utility room, using an image of our half completed room and the finished stool.

This is very useful to help convey my ideas which I see clearly in my head but find it hard to get others (read my husband) to visualise it too!

Perhaps the question isn't whether AI will replace creativity, but how we choose to use it. I was apprehensive about how AI can help with DIY projects, but now I can see how it’s a helpful tool for troubleshooting and to reduce mistakes made.

After all, ideas, decisions and the final product will always be mine, but AI can help get me there!

Amanda Jones is one of Ideal Home's new Open House contributors, sharing her thoughts on sustainable living and decorating a home in way that is good for the environment. See the rest of her articles here.

When we were younger my husband and I travelled extensively. We loved being immersed in unfamiliar surroundings, different sights, sounds, tastes and smells. The first time either of us boarded an airplane, was on an eleven-hour flight to Beijing, no half measures for us.

After several years of travelling, we started our family, and paused thoughts of far-flung destinations, I had always assumed, once our children were grown, my husband and I would take up where we left off, set off on our travels again, maybe swapping our suitcase for a backpack this time. I imagined long train journeys, across interesting landscapes, meeting new people. When you get bitten by the travel bug, it infects you for life.

Life, however, took up a different trajectory, and by my late forties I was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis. I gave up work (and any potential travel fund), and focused on staying as well as I could, for as long as I could. I soon realised however, if I wasn’t going to travel in the way I had hoped, it would serve me well to make my home, my ultimate, ‘Go To Destination’.

Most of my adult life I had been in full time work. Whist I had always wanted my home to look gorgeous, it wasn’t until I was in those four walls 24/7, that I realised how important my home would be, to my health and recovery. Somewhere I wanted to be, somewhere I could heal.

I needed to create a home I wanted to spend time in, and not one I wanted to escape from. Somewhere that gave me the same joy as being on a holiday, and to do that, I would need to get the aesthetics right. I looked to William Morris as my inspiration, ‘Have nothing in your houses that you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful’.

A calm and clutter-free home

This change in my lifestyle, and other life events, sparked in me the need to declutter, and reassess what was important to me. Doing this helped me define my new life, what I wanted to keep in it, and what I needed to let go off.

Leaving a career I loved, was difficult, especially as it was a big part of defining who I was. Letting go of the masses of work-related books, coursework and paraphernalia, was an important part of this process. Another important aspect was starting a blog, and my Instagram account, all of which has been a cathartic part of documenting the changes I was making and experiencing.

I now have a home that is calm, and relatively clutter-free. Every object I display is something that has meaning for me or my family. It’s curated, relaxed and homely.

Healthy home

Once I had reduced my clutter, my home felt calmer, and I began to take a deep dive into making my home a healthier place to be. I began to change the cleaning products I used around my home, as well as on my body, choosing more natural and eco-friendly alternatives.

I looked to buying items that were made from natural materials and sustainably made. I wanted my home to be eco-friendly not only to me and my family, but also the planet. I believe, if we surround ourselves with naturally made products, it’s healthier for us overall.

Capturing the hotel vibes

I have stayed in some very lovely hotels, not just your standard 4-star corporate ones, but some unusual hotels, filled with character, where you feel immersed in something special. Bedrooms where you felt cocooned and cosseted. Finally, after my ‘Low Spend Year’ I was able to buy the bed of my dreams, and the most glorious naturally mattress.

My husband and I might not have our own bedroom now (you can read why here), but we’ve created a super bedroom nook, and in my opinion rivals any hotel room.

Likewise with our shower room, I designed a space that is light, airy and showcasing some of my favourite pieces of art, a scented candle, and beautiful body products. Again, the luxury of any good hotel, but I get to experience it every day.

Outside in

One of the best experiences about travelling, is to sit outside, surrounded by a beautiful vista, eating delicious meals. Making the connection between our garden and home, has been an important element to creating a home that has become my Go To Destination.

Even if you only have a small outside space, having a quiet, calm spot to drink a coffee, or eat breakfast, is such a luxury. I would encourage everyone to design a small special space of their own outside. I’ve written about how healing I feel my garden is to me here.

I’ve created my own little oasis, filled with flowers, and plenty of seating areas to watch the wildlife. I may never go on that safari I had always dreamed of, but to me, watching sparrows flit from tree to tree gathering food, or building a nest, is equally captivating.

I must put a caveat in here, I know there will be many people out there with disabilities, who still manage to travel and explore. I also know there are many women out there, who do not feel safe in their own homes. To the former, I’m glad you have found a way to travel and explore, maybe I will one day. To the latter, I hope you find your safe place, your own Go To Destination.

Life changes, and when the future you envisage changes, you must adapt with it. I’ve done just that, by creating a place I’m happy, and content to be. My home is now my ‘Go To Destination’.

Home decorator and content creator Grace H is one of Ideal Home's new Open House contributors, sharing her thoughts on colourful home design, mixing vintage pieces with new and making personality-filled spaces. See the rest of her articles here.

My absolute superpower has always been walking into any shop and immediately honing in on the most expensive item in the room. My eyes naturally wander toward things that feel a little different, unique, and annoyingly, usually costly.

The good news is you can use those luxury items as pure inspiration, then head online to source something similar for a fraction of the price. Let’s look at how to make your home look elevated and luxurious on a budget.

I am constantly trawling through Vinted (I’ve perfected my algorithm now so that it serves me absolute gold on a silver platter). While eBay is still a great backup, listings have slowed down, making Vinted the ultimate treasure trove in my eyes.

Here are some of the best secondhand secrets I’ve found, along with a few pieces I’m consistently coveting.

1. Lamp love

There are designer lamps that have sat on my wish list for five years. The reason being that they are beautiful, but painfully expensive. Because of this, large statement lamp bases are always at the top of my search list on auction and reseller sites.

A vintage, oversized base can make a bold statement in any room. If you can snag the base at a bargain price, you can then justify investing in a high-quality lampshade. I recently purchased a peach oversized 1980’s spherical lamp base for a steal and am still searching for the perfect shade but I love that fact that it feels unique and not everyone will have the same. The result will hopefully be a high-end, custom look for way less.

Top Tip: Be hyper-specific with your search terms. Instead of typing "pink lamp”, try keywords like ceramic, vintage Italian, glazed, ribbed, cylindrical, or oversized. The more specific the better!

2. Gallery-worthy artwork

There are so many talented artists selling original pieces on Vinted now. You can often pick them up for a steal, supporting budding talent while elevating your walls. A quick reframe, and a secondhand piece can look gallery-worthy in no time.

I always hunt for original oil paintings rather than prints; they catch the light beautifully and can look incredibly high-end.

Top Tip: This is where I recommend going vague. Keep the search simple, like "colourful oil painting” and just scroll until something catches your eye. Don’t focus in on a dodgy framing choices; look at the art itself. Save anything you like to train your algorithm to do the hard work for you next time you log in.

3. Bespoke cushions

Custom cushions elevate a room instantly, however, buying them can seem like a real luxury. I wish I had the sewing skills to whip them up myself, but alas, I wasn't blessed with the patience for a sewing machine.

Luckily, plenty of talented sellers online do have the know-how. You can find incredible makers online creating cushions from deadstock, vintage, or designer fabrics for a fraction of the high-street price.

Top Tip: Never leave the flat, pancake-like inner cushion that comes with secondhand buys. Switch it out for a feather insert that is 5cm larger than the cushion cover. You’ll get that plush, plump and interior-designed look instantly.

4. Statement ceramics

I have waxed lyrical about my love for ceramics for years, and there are just so many unique, soulful pieces out there looking for a good home. It’s very rare that I buy a vase from the high street these days; they tend to look mass-produced, and the good ones go viral so fast that everyone ends up with the exact same decor.

Searching for vintage ceramics yields gorgeous colours and organic shapes that add instant texture to your styling. I recently picked up some vintage colourful ceramic ice cream cups and I love the interest that they add to my kitchen shelf. All for the price of a couple of takeaway coffees!

Trinket dishes are always on my hit list too – they are super useful and look gorgeous placed on top of coffee table books on my ottoman.

Top Tip: Always check or ask for measurements! I’ve learned this the hard way. I’ve had pieces arrive that look like they belong in a dollhouse, and others massive enough for a stately home.

5. Curated tableware

I’m talking plates, tablecloths, cutlery, water jugs and candlesticks. One person's junk truly is another's treasure. It amazes me how reasonably priced beautiful tableware is on Vinted. A quick run through the dishwasher or washing machine, and it’s as good as new.

I recently pressed 'buy' in record time on a stunning, hand-embroidered tablecloth. When it arrived, it was even better than I’d hoped. I also have a few serving platters on the way that cost less than a tenner each – way cheaper than buying mass-produced off the shelf.

Top Tip: Good cutlery can be eye-wateringly expensive. Keep an eye out for vintage canteens or sets that are missing a few pieces; people sell them cheap, and if you are patient, you can usually source the replacements online later.

The mix is the magic

While a quick high-street fix is always tempting, a truly interesting home thrives on eclecticism. The magic happens when you source pieces that have a past and a story to tell.

For me, the thrill of the chase, that late-night scroll, the unexpected find, and the anticipation of the postman arriving, is half the joy of interior design.

By blending high-street staples with secondhand gems and a splash of designer luxury, you’ll curate a space that feels beautifully layered, personal, and completely original.

Strategist and content creator Francesca Swan is one of Ideal Home's new Open House contributors, sharing her thoughts on the concept of 'Everything' and what makes a home special to you. See the rest of her articles here.

I cannot believe I am writing this, but after two very long and difficult years, our renovation and build project is nearly finished. It’s been a beast, putting it mildly.

We’ve changed the apartment layout creating a primary bedroom suite with walk-in wardrobes, a vanity area and bathroom, involving two slightly scary and controversial decisions to remove an original fireplace to build wardrobes and reduce the property value by sacrificing a second bedroom for a bathroom.

We’ve added 40m2, by building an extension with a kitchen, dining area, pantry and office and a 9m by 3.5m summerhouse with a gym, office and guest bedroom and en-suite. Landscaping the garden is next.

Our first renovation was completely smooth sailing (albeit without the build), which obviously didn’t remotely prepare us for what could go wrong. Even so, HOW we originally believed all this would be done in six months is completely staggering to me now. But we live and learn.

Lately, I’ve unwittingly found myself undertaking a very cathartic and personal debrief on what went well, what definitely didn’t and the things that most impacted my essential feeling of Everything - that much needed contentment, ease and connection to a journey fraught with pitfalls and stresses.

I’ve had all the feelings. A bit of pain, head in hands disbelief and bewilderment, a touch of smug satisfaction, happiness, regret, and a lot of humility, acceptance and personal growth.

This exorcism has helpfully boiled down to a simple, yet essential list of things I’ve locked in for the future. The things I will always do and wish I'd known about renovations.

Not terribly helpful for me, given that I am 100% sure I will NEVER do this again. Or maybe 90%? Ask me again next year.

Nevertheless, there’s no gatekeeping here, so if anyone can benefit from my lessons, then I'm happy to spill the dirt.

There are many new thoughts, (sometimes brutally honest), and much I've already shared within earlier columns over the past year. Don’t worry, I’m not going to repeat myself here, but they are linked in case you want to read more on something that is relevant for you now.

Some of it will be laughably obvious, but there may be valuable nuggets if you’re in a similar boat or about to set sail on your own renovation Odyssey.

Creating an Everything home

The starting point to creating Everything spaces that immerse us with joy, connecting and grounding us, always starts with purpose and inspiration.

First up, a practical yet indispensable step. How will the space be used and how do you want to feel? Boil this down to a few simple words – essentially guardrails for the fun stuff – creative brain-storming and mood boarding.

Inspiration comes in many forms and we all have our ways of summoning our creative muse. I personally prefer to reflect on anything I’ve ever loved or has made me think. A picture of David Bowie inspired me to paint my old office ceiling terracotta. Places, exhibitions, books, films, clothes, anything that stands out.

The internet is clearly an Aladdin’s cave of resources, but can also easily derail you, so I’ve developed hacks to curate what I see to make sure I stay focused.

I’m obsessive about saving things, whether in Pinterest, insta or screen grabs. I know I’m not alone in sharing the dubious honour of having tens of thousands of photos on my camera roll, and we all have deeply buried gems that can spark something wonderful and unexpected. Top tip – if you can get into the habit of creating and filing into albums, it’s a real time-saver in the long run.

Pull those glimmers of Everything together. There might be different themes, so I bucket them and create Pinterest boards with my references and search with them to build it out.

You’re now starting with a personal point of view, which will create a personal design, rather than being led purely by the algorithim and what is trending.

It can take time for ideas to settle. Try to sit with it, keep tinkering and sooner or later, something will click and a clear direction will take hold of your heart.

Don’t forget the detail. Colours, flooring, furniture, lighting, fabric and print – whatever you need. Keep adding, removing, shuffling and your moodboard will slowly materialize.

I use Canva or Freeform to create a mock-up with my choices. Both have brilliant background removers, so you can use screengrabs or photos of things you already own and drop them in cleanly.

A ChatGPT room visualization can also be super helpful to show you how your ideas will work in the actual space.

Design is a process and you will naturally loop back and forth, but these stages help me create and crystalise my vision into a workable design.

Then the joys of sourcing and sampling. I have two rules: this should also be an enjoyable Everything experience, rather than fraught with stress. It must also be organized so you make the most of your time and budget.

Of course, we’ve all got our own ways of working, and mine is designed for my delightful, yet flighty ADHD brain.

However, it’s always worth relooking at how you do things. Just because we have always done something a certain way doesn’t mean it should be locked in for eternity. If something causes you unnecessary stress or repeatedly wastes your valuable time, get rid and find a way that doesn’t drive you insane.

Start with the bones

I am a firm believer that the bones of your home – flooring, radiators, kitchen, bathroom, hardware – are crucial for a cohesive, considered finish.

If possible, invest where it matters. And if you've got the opportunity to run things consistently throughout your home, do it.

One of the best decisions we've made is using the same Bavarian oak chevron flooring, Corston Architectural hardware, and bronze Paladin Bartholomew radiators throughout.

These quality touches really do make a difference and create a much-needed flow between the period apartment and new build summerhouse.

Remember, it's a marathon, not a sprint

Big projects can bring big pressure (often self-imposed) to make decisions quickly and clear your huge to do list. However, speaking from painful experience, it’s easy to mistake being busy for being effective.

The key is separating what is urgent, what can wait and what you need to take your time with, especially where there's a bit of complexity. Prioritisation and a rough timeline are your secret weapons.

Making sure your contractor has what they need from you on time is critical to avoid delays. Many things often have lengthy lead times. Do your research up front, use your schedule and know your deadlines.

Everything else can follow. Don’t spend hours looking at sofas and art, when you haven’t even looked at flooring.

Another watch out is buying styling pieces in haste and too early.

There’s a difference between finding an Everything piece you just know will work somewhere, versus speed-buying on auto-pilot to fill rooms that aren’t ready. This isn't, I've learnt, the best approach.

Which brings me neatly to my next point – shop your own home first, before those possibly unnecessary impulse buys.

Remember those loved pieces of furniture, art, rugs, soft furnishings and decorative objects that you already own, can actually be moved. Don’t forget to dig out any beauties tucked away waiting for the perfect spot.

Step back and look at it all objectively with fresh eyes. Change things around, faff and have fun.

You may already have what you need to perfect a space, whilst freshening other rooms in the process. Your shopping list might also drastically shrink, which is another bonus.

Oh, and ALWAYS use large squares of lining paper to sample paint. When you find the shades you like, do multiple ones and leave them for at least a week to gauge light before deciding.

I got the kitchen walls very wrong by instinctively powering through, forgetting I’m not great with technical colour. Knowing this, I should have slowed down and tested more shades. It will need repainting, which is not the end of the world, but also something we could have done without.

Your home is always a work in progress. You'll get some things brilliantly right, other things horrendously wrong, not to mention those niggles that never feel quite right.

None of this matters, because you can chip away at it over time and it will come together when it’s meant to.

Reframing mistakes this way has been both a reassuring and freeing way to relieve some of the pressure to get it “finished”.

Build your project toolkit

This was born from necessity early in our project and locking in my renovation resolutions has been a game-changer.

Start with a clear and detailed scope of work. This bible creates clarity from the beginning and throughout. Make sure you update it when things change (they will), so everyone is always on the same page, avoiding the chance of dispute down the line.

Take the time to properly research your trades. Get references. Ask difficult questions. If needed, try to find an architect, contractor and party wall surveyor who have worked together before. An experienced team that you can work well with will remove unnecessary hurdles. I thank my lucky stars for ours every day.

Don’t do anything without a clearly defined and agreed written contract, including the scope of work, cost, schedule and payment terms.

Build a clear budget tracker and update your expenditure weekly. Find a format that works for everyone who will use it, containing every room and possible line item. Establish your projected spend at the beginning and regularly update it.

Keep a close eye on things to avoid an unpleasant shock at the extent of your spending further down the line – a potentially sticky position you do not want to be in, unless you're lucky enough to have infinite funds.

Always allow for at least a 20% contingency for worst case scenarios. It’s a simple fact that unexpected things will rear their ugly heads, not to mention pesky hidden costs. Make sure changes, extras and costs are agreed in writing before they happen.

Look after your team and they will usually look after you. It’s shocking how many people don’t thank people working on their project – basic good manners are non-negotiable. Frequent cups of tea never go amiss either.

Agree up front ways of working, check-ins and how you will communicate. Be firm, fair and transparent. Be respectful of your teams time and resist the urge to bombard them with endless messages. It’s a fine line between sharing information at the right time and being a total pain in the behind.

Do your due diligence, know your rights and have the appropriate permissions in place. Communicate essential information in good time to your neighbours respectfully, objectively, clearly and calmly. Be aware of the possibility that not everybody is going to like what you are doing. Pay attention when people show you who they are and establish healthy boundaries by using proper channels to protect yourself and keep things professional.

One final lesson was suggested by my lovely friend, Natasha @untillemonsrsweet:

“Remember, your builder is not your interior designer. Don’t compromise your designs because it’s easier for them. I always ask two things: is it a health and safety issue and can it be done. If the answer is no and yes, then proceed as planned.”

This is a very useful lens. It’s a frequent occurrence and easy to cave, but stick to your guns and don’t unnecessarily compromise, then regret it down the line.

Look after yourself

There’s no getting around it. Renovations can be hugely stressful and wreak chaos on all aspects of your life.

Living and possibly working in a building site, saddled with an endless to-do list, juggling changing costs and timings, alongside day-to-day life. It’s an understatement to say it’s a LOT and burnout is a very real risk.

Self-care is an absolute essential. Regrettably something I only realised very late in our project.

Get support and ask for help and advice from friends and family who have been through similar experiences, whether just to vent or use as an objective sounding board – especially helpful if you can’t see the wood for the trees.

The renovation and interiors instagram community can be an indispensable lifeline. Not just a rich source of inspiration, lessons and advice, it’s also a lovely pocket of moral support, positivity and kindness – rare in the daily hellscape of the internet. Find your people and genuine friendships will grow. I would not have got through without them.

If you’re living with others through the project, protect your relationships at all costs. I have never argued with my other half more than during the last two years and at points we really questioned our relationship. Needlessly, as it happens – thankfully we belatedly realized that renovations simply bring out the demon in you. Be aware of the hot spots and navigate with care and mutual respect.

Try to manage your time properly and make time for rest. It’s easy to push through and find yourself searching for the perfect light at 1am. I’ve been there and it’s not helpful.

Wherever possible, take as much time and space away as you can. This is especially important if you work from home.

Even if you don’t feel like you need to, do it anyway. You may think you're soldiering on, but the slow creep of things can suddenly become overwhelming.

PLEASE do not be like me and white knuckle it for two years. It's not big, it's not clever, and it’s definitely not healthy. You are not helping yourself or the project in the long run.

Step away from your home and have a break. You’ll thank yourself afterwards.

The reality check

It’s not an exact science, but with two renovations done and dusted, plus the steep and painful learning curve of past few years, there’s a lot of lessons banked.

My single biggest win? Not building a rod for my own back by properly managing my expectations.

Things will go wrong. Plans will change. Timings will change. There will be hidden costs. But if you are realistic about this and prepared for the worst, you might just be pleasantly surprised.

Be grateful for slow progress and celebrate your wins. They will be all the sweeter if you’ve had more sorrows than successes. Take it from someone who knows.

If you are going through or about to start a similar experience, I hope you find some useful tips here. My comments and DM’s are always open and I’m happy to help if I can.

A final and brilliant point from Natasha… Remember it will end at some point. Everything (hopefully) is momentary, so just keep swimming. You will get there and it will be worth it.

I can testify to this with absolute certainty.

Home decorator Ammarah Hasham is one of Ideal Home's new Open House contributors, sharing her thoughts infusing her rental house with plenty of personality. See the rest of her articles here.

Two very exciting events happened recently.

One, I learned how to upholster a stool at a workshop hosted by Google, using Gemini for guidance.

Two, my fiddle leaf fig grew a new leaf. Naturally, both of them felt like significant achievements.

In hindsight, I’m not entirely sure what possessed me to buy a fiddle leaf fig in the first place. I must’ve been feeling particularly adventurous during my trip to the flower shop. A few weeks later our relationship became rather complicated.One minute it would appear content. Then soon after, a leaf would start turning brown.

To this day, I'm not entirely convinced what the issue was. Too much water? Too little? Perhaps it simply wasn't thrilled about a change of scenery. Now, if you‘ve spent any time reading plant advice online, you’ve probably come across the same rule over and over again:

“Don’t move your plants unnecessarily.”

“Let them settle”

Apparently, much like pets, plants also have their favourite spots. And pots. In theory, it is all well and good, but renters face a different challenge. Much of the conventional wisdom surrounding houseplants assumes a degree of permanence that many renters simply don’t have.

Our plants need to be resilient. They need to adapt from one windowsill to the next. They often need to relocate from north facing windows to south facing ones and back again. In many ways, our plants end up living a rather nomadic lifestyle alongside us.

But thankfully, there are a few plants that seem far more understanding of this arrangement than others. I know there are many plants that can be included in this list, but I am going to share the ones I have tried, tested and often neglected. (cough!)

1. Ficus Ginseng Bonsai

OK, I know my first mention is a slightly unusual choice. When most people think of bonsai, they picture plants which are tiny and temperamental. Something that maybe requires specialist tools and the patience of a monk.

Patience? Never heard of it.

I am mentioning this one from sheer experience. IKEA’s Ficus Bonsai is surprisingly forgiving unlike other bonsai choices. As someone who struggles to stick to a diligent watering schedule, this little tree has earned its place.

Have I ever trimmed it? Not once. Has it held a grudge when I moved it around? Not at all! In fact it has proven to be quite hardwearing and easy to care for.

The only thing I have noticed is that it dislikes sitting near radiators and doesn’t appreciate having wet feet. Then again, neither do most plants. I have even left it in my bathroom, and it seemed to enjoy the extra humidity.

2. Spider plant

Next up is a spider plant.

When we think of plants for renters, non-fussy varieties seem to be our best friends. These little troopers can be displayed in hanging baskets, placed on a shelf, styled in the kitchen, or even squeezed into those awkward corners that bother us so much. They seem to settle happily. At least in my experience.

Now, I know many people who invest in self-watering pots and carefully monitor soil moisture levels. They are my heroes. As for me, my plants need to be capable of surviving a little neglect. No divas allowed here.

Probably that’s why I am still waiting to experience that wild, unruly growth that spider plant owners always boast (or complain) about.

They are also generally unfazed by house moves and super easy to propagate (which is a bonus) for those of us who are not exactly gardening experts.

3. Mini Swiss Cheese plant

I feel as though every renter goes through a cheese plant phase at some point. I know how glorious its larger Monstera cousins can look, but the mini ones are compact, less demanding than they look, and far easier to accommodate in a rented home.

They hit that sweet spot of adding plenty of character without taking over the room and grow quickly enough to make you feel as though you are doing something right. Their trailing habit makes them an ideal candidate for spreading a touch of greenery through the rental, especially one that lacks any outdoor space.

I also love the visual interest they add without taking up any valuable floor space, something we all know can feel like a luxury in smaller homes.

I have seen them thrive in the most basic containers without needing any extensive maintenance or specialist care. If they have survived under my care, that alone should count as a recommendation.

4. Pothos

My final mention has to be everyone’s sweetheart: the pothos.

In fact, it is one plant I struggle to separate from memories of home. Long before I knew the names of houseplants, pothos were already part of my childhood. As an adult, they remained a constant throughout my renting journey, following us through every house move.

That's why I've always had a soft spot for them. They are the plants that encourage even the most novice plant lover to keep going. Not fussy. Occasionally forgotten. Yet somehow still willing to give us another chance.

Pothos rarely resort to dramatic measures when they are unhappy. They simply droop when attention is needed.

A little bit like me.

What I particularly admire about pothos is that they grow more beautiful with age. The longer you keep them, the more verdant they become…

Did you spot any old favourites on this list? As for the fiddle leaf fig, my relationship remains a work in progress.

Ask me again in six months.

Home decorator Lara Winter is one of Ideal Home's Open House contributors, sharing her thoughts on revamping a 200 year old cottage to make it right for modern family life. See the rest of her articles here.

I am often asked how I choose colours for our cottage.

The honest answer is that there is no grand plan.

I wish I could tell you I have a sophisticated colour strategy involving mood boards and design theory. In reality, most decisions involve me staring at paint swatches, making tea and hoping for the best.

Yet somehow, over the years, a few colour combinations have emerged that I come back to again and again.

The colour combination that gets the most compliments

The first is in our dining nook. The walls are painted in a soft sandy beige, while the shelving is a deep firebrick red.

If you had shown me those two colours side by side ten years ago, I probably would have chosen one and rejected the other. Now I can't imagine the room without both.

The beige keeps things light and relaxed, while the red stops it drifting into boring territory. It feels warm, welcoming and slightly unexpected. Like the decorating equivalent of someone sensible wearing bright red lipstick.

It's probably the colour combination that gets the most compliments when people visit.

The ceiling colour that sounded like a terrible idea

My office contains another favourite pairing. The walls are Setting Plaster by Farrow & Ball, while the ceiling and door are painted in Red Earth.

I know what you're thinking. Painting a ceiling a darker colour sounds slightly unhinged.

I thought so too.

But the room has high ceilings and roof windows, so instead of making the space feel smaller, the darker ceiling somehow makes it feel more intentional. The soft pink plaster tones on the walls feel creative and uplifting, while the richer terracotta overhead adds depth and warmth.

It's the room where I write, plan projects and occasionally stare out of the window pretending I'm working. The colours seem to understand all three activities equally well.

The cosiest room in the house

Then there is my son's bedroom. The walls are painted in Woad by Little Greene, a deep blue that immediately makes the room feel cosy. The ceiling is a much lighter blue, which helps lift the space and stops it feeling too serious. The wardrobe is painted in the same firebrick red that appears in our dining area.

I have noticed that children often end up with the best rooms. There is less overthinking. The room isn't trying to impress anyone. It simply feels calm, comfortable and safe. Exactly what a bedroom should be.

Looking around our home, I have realised that my favourite colour combinations all have something in common. None of them are particularly trendy. None of them were chosen because a design expert recommended them. And none of them looked especially exciting as tiny paint samples.

But together they create rooms that feel lived in rather than decorated.

Perhaps that is why I love them.

A soft beige needs a confident red beside it. A gentle pink becomes more interesting next to earthy terracotta. A deep blue feels even cosier with a lighter blue ceiling above it.

The best colour combinations aren't necessarily the most obvious ones. They're the ones that make you happy every time you walk into the room, even years after you've finished painting it.

Committed home renovators David and Andrew Harrison-Colley (better known on Instagram as The Home Boys) are part of Ideal Home's new Open House contributors, sharing their thoughts on making a home together and living through the tricky parts. See the rest of their articles here.

We came back from holiday a couple of weeks ago to a forecast that genuinely lifted our spirits – another potential heatwave on the way, the kind of weather that gets you sketching plans on the back of an envelope and ordering things from the timber merchant before you’ve even unpacked the suitcases.

After years of pouring our attention inwards – knocking down walls, building extensions, laying floors, tiling, painting – it’s a strange and lovely thing to suddenly find ourselves looking outwards instead.

The garden, which has spent the last three years as a combination of building site, storage area and unofficial overflow space for whatever wouldn’t fit inside the house, is finally getting our attention. Properly. Not as an afterthought.

And we’ve realised something we probably should have admitted sooner: the outside is part of the renovation too. It always was. We just hadn’t had the headspace to think about it until now.

The shift in energy

There’s a particular feeling that arrives when you stop renovating in dust and start renovating in sunshine. The work itself doesn’t get easier – if anything, lugging bricks across a lawn in 28 degrees is a different kind of brutal – but the mood shifts entirely.

You can leave the doors open. You can hear the birds rather than the dust extractor. You can stop for a cup of coffee on the grass instead of perched on an upturned bucket in a half-finished room. You can actually see what you’re working on, in proper light, with no plaster haze in the air.

And there’s something deeply satisfying about projects you can stand back from at the end of the day and see, immediately, how far you’ve come. So many of our indoor jobs have been slow and incremental – the kind where you spend a whole weekend on one corner of a room and the difference is only really visible to you.

Outdoor work tends to be the opposite. A retaining wall starts as a trench and ends, a few weekends later, as a wall. A patch of scrappy lawn gets edged in brick and suddenly looks intentional. The transformations feel more honest somehow.

What we’ve got planned

There’s quite a list, if we’re honest. More than we’ll get through in one summer, almost certainly. But the rough shape of it goes something like this.

First, the lawn. It’s currently a slightly apologetic shape – uneven edges, no real definition, mowed but never really designed. We want to reshape it properly and edge it with reclaimed bricks set flush into the grass, so the mower can run straight over the top. A small detail that we think will completely change the feel of the back garden.

Second, the retaining wall we started three years ago and never finished. It’s been sitting there ever since – half-built, slightly accusatory, made from the breeze blocks we used as the structural base and waiting for the brick facing we always promised it. The bricks for it have been waiting too. Which brings us to the next bit.

Third, the bricks themselves. When we took down the old carpenter’s workshop to make way for the extension three years ago, we made a decision that felt slightly mad at the time and feels even madder now: we cleaned every single brick by hand. Thousands of them. Sat in the garden chipping old mortar off with bolster chisels, stacking them in neat piles, telling ourselves we’d use them for something one day. That day is finally arriving. They’ll go into the retaining wall, the lawn edging, and a new set of brick-and-sleeper steps to tie it all together.

And fourth, the bigger ambition: a new patio area at the west-facing side of the house, perfectly positioned for the evening sun. The only catch is that the spot we want to put it is currently occupied by what’s left of the original outside toilet – a small brick outbuilding that’s been quietly clinging on for decades, doing nothing in particular and getting in the way of our patio plans.

So before we can start the nice part, we’ve got another demolition on our hands. Which feels oddly fitting, given that’s how this whole renovation started in the first place.

Why this matters more than we expected

For a long time, we treated the garden as something we’d “get to eventually”. It was always next on the list, but the list kept growing and the garden kept slipping. Living in the house through the build meant the indoor jobs were the loudest – they were the ones disrupting our day-to-day, the ones we couldn’t ignore.

But here’s what we’ve realised this summer: the garden is the bit you see every single time you look out of a window. Every cup of coffee at the kitchen island, every evening on the sofa with the doors slid open, every morning standing barefoot at the back of the house with a brew – it’s all framed by the outside. And no amount of beautifully finished interior really lands if the view out of it is a half-finished retaining wall and a confused lawn.

It’s also where the house meets the rest of life – guests arriving at the front, summer evenings at the back, the dog (maybe, one day) tearing around the lawn, friends crammed onto whatever seating we can rustle up. The garden isn’t a bonus. It’s where some of the best bits actually happen.

Pacing ourselves (or trying to)

We’ve learned enough by now to know we can’t do it all at once. Three years of renovating has taught us that the moment you try to take on every project simultaneously, everything stalls. So the plan is to chip away at the outdoor list the way we’ve chipped away at the indoor one: one defined project at a time, finished properly, before moving onto the next.

The bricks come first, because the materials are already on site (and have been for three years, patiently waiting). The lawn shaping follows naturally – it uses the same bricks and the same skills, and we can do it without needing anything to dry, set or cure between weekends.

The patio is the bigger commitment, and the demolition of the old outside toilet will be its own little chapter – equal parts satisfying and dusty, as demolitions tend to be.

We might not get all of it done before the weather turns. Some of it might roll into next spring. That’s fine. The garden, like the house, doesn’t need to be finished in a single push to start feeling better.

Working with what’s already there

One thing we’re trying to resist is the urge to start from scratch. There’s some established planting we love – the wisteria climbing the front of the house, the roses at the side, the laurel that gives us privacy from neighbours – and we don’t want to lose any of it in the pursuit of a tidier garden.

The same principle that’s shaped the inside of the house applies just as much out here: work with what’s already good, edit gently, and add slowly.

The reclaimed bricks help with that enormously. Because they’re old, slightly weathered, varied in tone, they don’t feel like new additions. They feel like they’ve always been there. Which, in a way, they have – they were here before the carpenter’s workshop came down, and they’ll be here long after we’ve stopped renovating. That’s a kind of continuity we really like.

Onto the next thing

So that’s where we are. Back from holiday, slightly tanned, slightly anxious about the to-do list, but more excited than we’ve been about any phase of this renovation in a while. The weather’s on our side. The materials are already in the garden. The vision, more or less, is clear.

Over the next few articles we’ll share the projects properly – the bricks that waited three years and are finally getting their moment, the new face of the cottage now that the front has been re-rendered and the porch is in, and (eventually) the patio that we have to demolish a Victorian toilet to build.

We’ve spent a long time pouring everything we have into the inside of this house. It feels good, finally, to step outside.

Screen printer Hannah Carvell is one of Ideal Home's new Open House contributors, sharing her thoughts on colourful home design for a creative family to live in. See the rest of her articles here.

Every year it happens. The first few warm days arrive, the evenings stretch a little longer, and suddenly I lose all interest in being indoors.

The house, which has occupied my attention for months through winter in the quest to make it the perfect cosy nest and pretty for Christmas, gets abandoned as I head outside armed with seed packets, a watering can and increasingly ambitious gardening plans.

By March, my greenhouse is crowded with trays of seedlings. By May, I'm checking on them several times a day, willing them to grow. And by June, the garden has become my entire personality. It's my happy place where I let my mind wander as I am going to sleep at night.

Meanwhile, inside the house, things begin to slide. There are always muddy boots by the back door, the ants have started to wander in and a thin layer of pollen finds its way onto every surface. The vacuum cleaner sits neglected in the cupboard while wheelbarrows, seed trays and endless bags of compost seem to multiply overnight.

If someone drops by, I usher them straight into the garden and hope they didn't notice the state of the kitchen. The funny thing is that I don't feel remotely guilty about it.

For most of the year, our homes demand a lot of attention. We paint walls, rearrange furniture, organise cupboards and decorate in December, convince ourselves that a perfectly styled room will somehow make life run more smoothly.

Yet, for a few precious months each year, the garden takes over and I think that's exactly how it should be.

As a screen printer, I'm used to working with colour, pattern and composition, so perhaps it's inevitable that I approach gardening in much the same way.

I grow vegetables, but if I'm honest, flowers often steal the show I got the dahlia bug a few years back and this year I am growing cosmos and zinnias from seed as well. Each spring I find myself ordering more seed packets than I have space for. Cosmos, zinnias, snapdragons, sweet peas and dahlias all make their way onto the list.

Every year I promise to be more restrained, and every year I fail spectacularly, the temptation and hope in these little packets at a fraction of the cost of a trip to the garden centre for more established plants. There's something incredibly optimistic about growing flowers from seed.

A tiny paper packet doesn't look like much when it arrives in the post. Yet within a few months it can transform a corner of the garden into something overflowing with colour and life. It feels like a small act of faith and the ultimate dopamine fix when it works.

Vegetables offer a different kind of satisfaction. The first salad leaves of the season. A handful of runner beans. Courgettes appearing seemingly overnight.

Even the crops that don't quite go to plan teach you something for next year. I have many fails don’t get me wrong – the sweet corns that were just a nest of earwigs and my cucumbers last year tasted like battery acid which I have since found out happens if you mix varieties in the pollination stages.

Of course, gardening also has a remarkable ability to humble you. Slugs don't care how carefully you've planned your borders (neither does the cat). Late frosts arrive uninvited. Seedlings that looked perfectly healthy one day can suddenly collapse the next.

Nature has a way of reminding us that we're not entirely in control. Perhaps that's part of the appeal. So much of modern life feels fast, immediate and relentlessly productive. Gardening operates on a completely different timetable.

Seeds germinate when they're ready. Plants flower in their own time. You can't rush a tomato plant no matter how often you check on it. Trust me, I've tried, but when something works and I am snipping armfuls if cut flowers come September the satisfaction can’t be matched, pure joy.

The garden also changes the rhythm of everyday life. Instead of spending an evening scrolling through my phone, I find myself wandering outside to see what's flowering and give my beds a water. I'll deadhead a few blooms, pull up a handful of weeds and somehow an hour disappears.

Small jobs become rituals; I am strangely addicted to pulling up bindweed, getting a big handful of those tell tale white roots out feels like a victory. Popping out the let my chickens out and water the seedlings before breakfast. Picking sweet peas after work. Harvesting herbs while making dinner.

These moments are rarely dramatic, but they add up to something important. They encourage me to notice the seasons passing, harvest time at the end of summer means huge pans of tomato sauce being made (all going well) and apple crumbles with every meal.

At this time of year, the house becomes less of a project and more of a backdrop. The slightly dusty shelves can wait. The pile of paperwork on the dining table isn't going anywhere. Even the weeds growing between the patio slabs feel more urgent than reorganising a cupboard.

Winter will come soon enough, bringing with it all the indoor jobs I've been happily ignoring. There will be time for decorating, decluttering and tackling the endless list of things that need sorting out.

For now, though, my attention belongs elsewhere. To seedlings unfurling their first leaves. To flowers beginning to bloom. To vegetables slowly filling out their beds. To evenings spent outdoors cobbling together new raised beds from old piles of wood from the shed long after I should have gone inside.

The house may be looking a little neglected, but the garden is thriving. And honestly, I'm perfectly happy with that trade-off.

Content creator Lucy Kalice is one of Ideal Home's Open House contributors, sharing her thoughts on cleaning, home decor and making the most of small spaces. See the rest of her articles here.

If you’ve read some of my previous articles you may know that last year my husband and I did a home renovation. One of the rooms we renovated was our main bathroom. It was the same bathroom that was here when we moved into the house and to be honest it wasn’t to our taste. It was grey, it was dull and it was bland.

We have a small bathroom and we found it quite difficult when it came to renovating as there wasn’t much we could do with it. Extending the room was out of the question. So we put hours and hours of research in to be able to get the bathroom how we wanted. We were so pleased and happy with the results but this is what the internet had to say…

Now, first of all, I should say that these comments don’t offend me at all. I love our bathroom and we did what was right for us. However, it’s a stark reminder that everyone has different taste, different likes and dislikes, and interiors is simply not 'one size fits all.'

What’s funny is that the our initial plan with the bathroom was to go bold and colourful, something I’m sure the internet would’ve loved. The vision was small green rectangular tiles around the shower and then bigger tiles elsewhere. We were then going to paint the top half of the bathroom a dark green and go for dark wood features making it feel moody, fun and giving it lots of character.

A big difference to what our old bathroom felt like which was cold and boring.

This was our vision, but when we started thinking about what our goals for the bathroom were, beyond how it looked, we realised that this wasn’t going to work.

What we wanted out of our bathroom was the following:

• Storage – the current bathroom had no storage, no shelves, no cupboards. It wasn’t practical and meant it looked cluttered as we kept toiletries on the window ledge
• Easier to clean – half the bathroom was tiled and half the room was painted meaning it wasn’t seamless to clean
• Maximise space to make it feel bigger – if both of us were in the bathroom it was a tight squeeze because of the way the fixtures were fit. Yes the bathroom was small, but it felt even smaller

Now my biggest advice for anyone going through a renovation is to get clear on what you want to get out of a room before you start decorating. Do you want it to feel lighter? Do you want it to be cosier? What way is the room facing? Do you want it to be easier to clean? Does it need more storage?

With our goals confirmed, we got researching and quickly realised that the green tiled bathroom was not going to work for us. Small tiles make a room feel smaller which is the opposite of what we wanted. Small tiles also means more grout, and more grout can mean more mould build up. We wondered if by going bold on the colour, we would get sick of it in a couple of years and we wanted something more timeless.

So instead we went for big tiles all around the bathroom which make a room feel bigger. We added a barn style sliding door to maximise the space inside the bathroom. And we went for a neutral colour so that it felt more timeless.

And I get it, from the outside it might look like a boring beige bathroom, with no character or depth. But what the internet doesn’t realise, is that hours and hours of research went into deciding what shower to get, the tiles, the basin. They don’t realise our why and what our goals were.

So yes, maybe going for a bright colourful bathroom would’ve made the internet happy but it simply wouldn’t have worked for us. And all I can say is, our bathroom hits every single one of our goals, its easier to clean, we’ve added appropriate storage and the room now feels bigger.

It’s perfect…for us. And that’s all that matters.

Interior designer Natalie Jahangiry is one of Ideal Home's new Open House contributors, sharing her thoughts on decorating a home to suit a busy family life while sticking to your aesthetic values, too. See the rest of her articles here.

I've never really had that feeling when looking at design inspiration and thinking, that's me down to a tee. In my eyes, design is something deeply personal, and no matter how beautiful the inspiration it's difficult to see yourself reflected through someone else's vision. That was until now.

As soon as I stumbled across Margate House online a few years ago, it felt as though someone had tapped directly into my inner design dialogue. I instantly knew I needed to visit!

So I felt like it was a sign when COAT Paints released their Margate House collection that I should go asap. We use COAT regularly on our client projects, so when hearing the announcement of the range I knew the timing was perfect.

And that brings me to now… here I am, writing this on the train journey home after a wonderful night away at Margate House. And I can tell you now, it absolutely lived up to expectations and more! So here’s what I took away from my visit to the colourful seaside town.

Why I wanted to visit

I grabbed my friend Vanessa and off we went on a train from London to Margate for a little design-filled escape. I arrived with a few goals in mind.

While I was excited to experience the new COAT collection first-hand and gather inspiration for client projects, I was equally keen to come away with a few ideas for my own home. Of course! More specifically, my master bedroom, which (unbeknown to Tom) is about to get a little revamp of its own, so stay tuned for Part 2!

A house that feels like home

The Victorian terrace has been beautifully renovated by first time hotelier Will Jenkins alongside his longtime friend and part time designer, Charlee Allan-Quiton. It's a true celebration of pink in every sense, which suits me rather well, as you can imagine.

Dusky soft pink, peach and red warming tones wrap around the bedrooms and communal spaces in an inviting yet contemporary manner. The palette was created with Margate as its inspiration, something that quickly becomes apparent as you walk around the town.

Each colour is named after a local landmark or destination, many of which we had the pleasure of spotting during our visit. I absolutely loved that “Shell Grotto” is an actual shell grotto!

The attention to detail across the house extends far beyond the interiors. There are thoughtful touches everywhere, from sweet jars to snack drawers, layered lighting to comfy sofas and snug little cocktail nooks, all designed to make guests feel welcome.

It's clear this is a place that genuinely cares about the quality of your stay. The result is a hotel that feels both beautifully designed and wonderfully comfortable.

Throughout our visit, we genuinely felt as though we were visiting a stylish friend's house rather than checking into a hotel. The design scheme felt so aligned with my own taste that I settled in immediately (we even went for breakfast in our PJs!).

In fact, after seeing my Instagram posts earlier in the day, my friend messaged me saying, "That Margate hotel is the most you hotel I've ever seen. It all looks like it should be in your house!" And honestly, I couldn't have put it better myself.

Dinner at Willy's

During our stay, we also dined at Willy's, named after the owner himself.

The restaurant feels like a natural extension of the hotel, carrying the same playful personality throughout. Pink and red stripes, luxurious velvet seating and softly curved architectural details work together to create a space that feels stylish without taking itself too seriously.

With its cheeky tone, excellent cocktails and relaxed atmosphere, it feels more like a beautifully designed dining room than a restaurant. And, of course, I should mention the food itself, which was absolutely delicious… I'll be dreaming about the leek croquettes for weeks.

What I took away from the experience

Needless to say, I left feeling completely inspired. Margate House was a feast for the eyes, packed with thoughtful design details and beautiful moments at every turn.

It was exactly the kind of creative reset I needed and an epic night away that has left me with plenty of ideas to take home.

Design notes

I've written previously about clever ways to bring hotel-style luxury into your home, so I wanted to build on that while reflecting on some of the design products and techniques used throughout Margate House.

Some of the furniture has been designed by Will himself and produced by local makers. Other pieces I recognised instantly from some of my favourite brands. So, with that in mind, here are the details that really caught my eye.

Colour capping and colour drenching

I loved how the hotel used two of my favourite painting techniques: colour drenching (one colour to cover the walls and ceiling) with COAT's Love Lane in the main reception room to hug it and invite you in, then swapped to colour capping (painting the ceiling in a darker or lighter hew on than the walls) in the bedrooms.

Our bedroom was painted in Dirty Sherbet with a red ceiling, which created interest and defined each zone perfectly. The pink and red breakfast room was another highlight, the dark red woodwork against soft pink walls reminded me so much of our living room at home. Loved it.

Pink AGA

I have to give a special shout out to the kitchen in the breakfast area, the checkerboard red tiles, the copper pans, dark red units with brass handles and, the star of the show, the epic pink AGA. What a statement piece.

If only I could have one at home... Oh dear my brain cogs are working overtime! Sorry Tom.

Layered lighting

There's various different lights dotted around the hotel that are particularly beautiful, each alone making a statement but coming together to create the perfect glow.

I recognised a few so thought it would be my duty not to be a gatekeeper and show you where you can get them from also:

• Bedroom wall lights, from Lyngard
• Bedroom lamp shades, from La Lumiere Studio
• En-suite wall lights, from Cult Furniture
• Reception room chandelier, from Soho Home
• Chandelier alternative, from Cult Furniture
• Bar floor light, from Soho Home

Wavy beds

OF COURSE… you'll recognise the pictures of the absolutely instagrammable wavy beds that appear in the hotel. I think some of these may have been custom-made, however I did track down one of the frames (from Drift Inteiors) from a room we didn't stay in.

This option from Daetti, and this one from Olivia's are also along the same tracks.

Creative artwork

A lot of the artwork dotted around the hotel is bespoke. However, I managed to track a few down that feature mainly in the bedrooms themselves.

There was Life in Battersea, Seven Times Woman and The Lion is Ready to Jump, all from Project 26, a leading dealer of vintage Polish posters. There are a few other canvas paintings from the company Kavel Rafferty, too.

Seated Swooning

I also LOVE the fringed sofas in the reception area, and you can thank me later but I know where they are from too – it's the Petworth in Carmine Crushed Velvet from Swoon.

Luxury window dressings

Layering curtains is quickly becoming my favourite design detail, so I was more than a little excited to find café curtains paired with beautifully double pleated drapes in our room.

Made by London Curtain Girls, the curtains throughout the hotel were crafted from a soft, linen-like fabric in warm off-white and cream tones. They added such a romantic touch and softened each space beautifully.

Overall takeaways

Staying at Margate House feels joyous. It's a true ode to the local area being both stylish, fun and perfectly pink. It's exactly the sort of charm I'd love to incorporate more into my own home.

So stay tuned for Part 2 of this inspiration journey, where I'll be decorating my own master bedroom, inspired by my stay at Margate House, the seaside town itself, and my long standing love affair with pink. The real question is… how much pink is too much pink? I guess we're about to find out.

Interior designer and content creator Rebecca Constable is one of Ideal Home's new Open House contributors, sharing her thoughts on demystifying the process of designing and decorating a home, and helping people work out where to spend and where to save.

We’re quickly heading into garden hosting season and even though the days are long we often find ourselves sitting in the garden in the dark because we haven’t got any proper lighting outside.

By the time we had finished our house renovation there was very little money left to spend on the garden, and to be honest drawing up a garden lighting plan was the last thing on my mind.

Our architect did persuade us to put in some wired lighting but I didn’t think it through properly and it's very sparse. What's more, now that the London foxes have had their fun, a number of the cables have been chewed and the lights no longer work.

However, this summer I am determined to take a more considered approach to our lighting outside and so I have been on a mission to work out how I can light our garden without calling in an electrician and digging up the paving!

Much like the rooms in our homes, I think lighting can make or break a garden (after dark). Great lighting really does make the garden an extra room that you can use all day and all evening, weather permitting. And when it’s December, snowy and dark at 4pm, beautiful lighting in a garden is much nicer to look out onto rather than a big dark abyss.

I am going to take a similar approach to how I light any of the other rooms in our home and focus on adding layered lighting, which means that the light doesn’t all come from one source or one level, but from a number of different places, making the space feel warm and inviting.

Firstly I’m going to put in some uplighters throughout the flower beds and in some of my larger flower pots. These are going to provide a lovely wash of light over the shrubbery, highlighting certain plants and trees.

I have found these handy solar lights from Amazon which you can simply stick into the soil and let the sun charge them during the day. They automatically switch on when it's dark and stay on for a set number of hours, which means once you’ve put them in place you don’t have to think about them again.

I like the drama these add and I think they look just as good as any fancy wired in uplighter.

Secondly I’m going to add some mid-level lighting with festoon lights. I’m planning to hang these along the back of our garden fence, between our two birch trees.

These are really just going to be for mood lighting and drawing the eye to the back of the garden. I love festoon lights because in summer they give off a fun carnival type vibe but in the winter they feel festive and christmassy.

We do have outdoor sockets in our garden so I could either get some plug in ones from John Lewis and run an extension cable along the flowerbed or I’ve found some great solar powered festoon lights from Garden Trading, which would be a simpler set up.

With festoon lights I’m looking for the ones that look a bit like the old-fashioned bulbs that have a filament, and I definitely want them to be a warm white.

Finally I am going to add some table lights and lanterns to the areas we usually end up sitting, like our garden table and the wall between the patio and the lawn. These will be partly for practical reasons so we can see what we’re doing, but also to add more ambience to those spaces.

A really lo-fi option would be to add a lantern with a candle and Corston have just launched one that I love and reminds me of a ship's lantern. There is something so special about the flicker of a real flame that you just can’t beat.

Or alternatively I could add some rechargeable table lights for something a little more powerful. Tala has a great table lamp that is designed for outdoors and comes in a range of gorgeous colours. I love the little handle on the top as it will be easy to move it to wherever we want it in the garden.

My hope is that if we can add some additional lighting in the garden it’ll increase the chances of us spending more time out there this summer and even into autumn as it gets cooler.

And if I really want the garden to feel like an extension of the rest of the house then I probably need a better lighting strategy than relying on the big light, also known as the moon.

Home decorator and content creator Leah Hodson is one of Ideal Home's new Open House contributors, sharing her thoughts on overhauling a home with clever DIY and decorating tricks. See the rest of her articles here.

Remember when grey was the ‘it’ colour for years? For a few years now, there’s been an anti-grey movement. It was subtle at first, then it was called millennial grey (rude!), and suddenly having grey in your house seemed uncool. In the last six months, this has shifted even more, with ‘whimsical’ now the new buzz word!

Could it possibly be our yearning to go back to being children and being creative? Could it possibly be that grey just feels too impersonal?

I still love all shades of beige and grey! However, I’ve been leaning into whimsical decor lately too. I spent my childhood watching my mom paint Russian folk art pieces and that’s something I’ve been craving lately – hand-painted whimsical decor. A little pop of colour in the most unexpected way!

Since ‘whimsical decor’ has become a buzzword, there’s also been a rise of videos on social media showing how to create whimsical decor from newly bought supplies. Instead, here are some ways you can add a little whimsy to your home without buying new, or spending much on supplies.

Hand-painted details

Paint samples are one of the easiest and most affordable ways to experiment with creativity at home. You don’t need a huge budget and I reckon most of us already have a few sample pots, collecting dust or tucked away in a cupboard somewhere. Sometimes, a handful of tester pots are all you need to create something magical.

I created my autumn mural using Earthborn sample pots, and it completely transformed the space without overpowering it. As an alternative, an increasingly popular place to add whimsical painted details is the side of the door. Simply, jazz it up with a pattern or a painted item. This makes entering and exiting a room a little more fun!

And because it’s only paint, there’s very little pressure. If your style changes or you simply fancy something different later, it can easily be painted over – even in grey! It’s a low commitment way to be bold and have fun with your home.

Upholstered picture frame

Simply use a brush to cover a photo frame in PVA glue, then stick on any fabric of your choosing (it could be a fabric remnant, or scrap from an item of clothing).

Make sure the fabric is larger than the frame as you will need to wrap the fabric round the back, like a little present. Cut out the hole in the middle and fold it around so that the frame is fully wrapped in fabric.

Leave to dry, and you’ll have a unique picture frame. This is such a fun way to introduce whimsical patterns into your home whilst adding texture and personality to a space at the same time.

Plate wall

Plate walls have made a comeback! It’s such a fun and easy way to add a little bit of whimsy to any wall. You could mix it in between the frames in your gallery wall. This added shape and unexpected texture adds interest to your gallery wall.

This doesn’t have to cost much too! There are lots of choices in your local charity shops and even if you wanted a new plate with a more modern design, they don’t cost much either! I can't wait for my kitchen to be complete to create a plate wall using vintage plates!

I think whimsical decor (read as personalised decor) is here to stay and I love how we’re transitioning out of sterile homes to embracing what we love. A little hand-painted detail or recycled decor piece is an unexpected way to add so much joy when you see them around your home!

Amanda Jones is one of Ideal Home's new Open House contributors, sharing her thoughts on sustainable living and decorating a home in way that is good for the environment. See the rest of her articles here.

Does your home bring you joy, or are you constantly decorating and changing things, to feel happy and satisfied? So many of us look at glossy magazines, full of homes that are completely out of our price range, expensively decorated, then look around our own homes, and feel they are inadequate, and not ‘good enough’. We get so easily swayed by what others have, that we completely fail to see what is right in front of us. However, it doesn’t have to be that way.

For me swapping the word 'aspirational' for 'intentional', has been key to creating a home I love, and that brings me real joy. I no longer chase after the aspirational homes I see in glossy magazines or online, although I still enjoy seeing them. I’ve come up with my own ingredients to creating a comfortable, and contented home. An intentional home, full of the things I love, and that works efficiently and effectively, for my family.

Having an intentional home, means I have everything in place that my family needs. It’s a home that is safe and secure, like a warm hug. Creating a meaningful, intentional life is more important to me, than having an aspirational home.

Here are my ingredients, to creating a home where I feel truly happy and satisfied.

1. Stop chasing the next ‘Best Thing’

Ignore the interior design trends. Don’t continually compare your home with those you see in magazines or online. Comparison really is the thief of joy.

2. Work with what you already have

Assess each space in your home, for its positive and negative points, and be realistic in your assessment. If you feel you need more room, work out how to make the most of the space you already have.

Could you declutter some of your belongings, or get better storage solutions? Could you move furniture around, to make the room work better. Could you change the use of a room, like we did here in the article I wrote about living with our adult children.

Not everyone can afford large extensions, rethinking how you use your spaces, could offer you the solutions you need., and cost a fraction of the price.

3. Deal with any maintenance issues

I can’t stress enough, how a leaky roof, or draughty windows, can have a negative impact on how you feel about your home.

Get the basics right, deal with the fabric of your home, fix those issues. It might take a while, but making it safe and secure, will make you love your home a little bit more.

4. Always buy the best quality you can afford

Whilst I consider myself a frugal person, I always try and buy the best I can. In the long run, quality items usually last longer.

This of course might mean you have to wait, whilst you save up for your item, but that’s no bad thing, it gives you the time to find out the best deals available.

Take your time, spend your money wisely, and the decisions you make will be intentional ones.

5. Make those small changes

Look at those little changes that will improve how you live and how your home functions.

How many times have you said to yourself, if I just had a hook there, it would make the bathroom work so much better. Or if we could just organise our shoes more efficiently, getting out of the house in the morning would be easier. If I could just find this right piece of art to hang above the fireplace, the room would feel cosier.

Listen to what your instinct is telling you, about how you home functions, and the solutions your intuition tells you.

Recently I purchased a deep tray for our dining table. We don’t have much clutter, but we always needed to clear the table before mealtimes. Now items destined for the table, go straight into the tray, meaning we only need to lift that, before setting the table. It’s been a very simple, effective change.

6. Create small moments of joy

It might be the placement of a chair where you can sit and view the garden, or a small book nook, a place to snuggle down to read a book.

Make sure your bedroom is a calm space, and that your bedside cabinet is clutter free and calm. A book, maybe a photo of a loved one, a glass of water…no phone.

Small changes can make profound differences to how we use our homes, and the enjoyment we get from them.

7. Link your home to outside space

Even if it’s just a borrowed landscape or view.

If you have access to a garden, then create a seating area outside, our gardens really are an extension to our homes, and by being intentional in how we organise them, can bring real joy into our lives.

When we design or decorate our homes with intention, our focus shifts. We concentrate on what matters to our family, and how we use our space.

We design something that is individual to us, rather than copy and paste some aspirational (and often unachievable) home we’ve seen online, or in a magazine.

Design your home with intention, and you will create a home you love.

Home decorator and content creator Grace H is one of Ideal Home's new Open House contributors, sharing her thoughts on colourful home design, mixing vintage pieces with new and making personality-filled spaces. See the rest of her articles here.

“That girl has ideas above her station.”

It’s a phrase I often heard from my Mum growing way up and she wasn’t wrong. I’ve never been one to settle for ‘OK’ or ‘it’ll do’. I want the absolute best my budget can afford, and I definitely don’t want a carbon copy of someone else’s living room. I love interiors that feel personal, unique, and a well...a little bit different.

And that is exactly where bespoke choices come into play.

When shopping for a sofa upgrade, I knew I wanted a custom finish: rich raspberry fabric with marshmallow-pink piping so I had it made by the fabulous team at Darlings of Chelsea. It took ages to find the right colours that matched our upholstered patterned ottoman (more on that later), but when I stumbled across that perfect colour match? Pure magic. I got a real buzz knowing the final piece would be entirely personal to me.

The same logic applies to furniture too. Take our hallway console table for example. I searched high and low for the right dimensions, but standard pieces were always too short or too wide to accommodate our giant radiator.

Finally, I thought, “Why not just have it custom made? So, I did. Yes, it was more of an investment, but going custom isn’t always as intimidating or as fancy as it sounds. After all, don’t we all deserve to have a nice home?

Why you should consider going custom (and where to start)

If you're looking to elevate your home, here are a few areas where going bespoke is worth every penny.

1. Reupholstery

We recently had an old, vintage Ercol chair reupholstered in a gorgeous GP & J Baker x Kit Kemp fabric, and my only regret is that I didn’t do it sooner. The chair has been given a whole new lease of life, and the process was seamless.

I sent the old cushions off to the lovely Katy Takla (cushion maker extraordinaire), and she whipped up two stunning replacements in no time. Suddenly, the chair is completely reborn, and I’ll treasure it for years to come.

Having a bespoke finish is far more achievable than you think. I’ve seen some amazing DIY headboards, bench cushion upcycles and chair makeovers on Instagram lately. If you shop around on online auctions or look for surplus designer fabric sellers like The Haines Collection, you can snag incredible textiles without the luxury price tag too.

The Future Wishlist: We don’t currently have space in our kitchen, but in my dream future home, I’d love to add bespoke banquette seating in a real statement fabric. It won’t be cheap, but it’s those exact finishing touches that really pack a punch. Some things are worth saving for – even if it takes years.

2. Statement furniture

Hardly a week goes by without someone online asking where I got my living room ottoman (The House Upstairs, if you’re wondering). It catches people's eyes because it’s totally different from what’s currently flooding the high street.

Did it cost a pretty penny? Yes. But it’s a real hero piece in the space, and it’s so well-built that it will last a lifetime (even if I choose to recover it down the line if it starts looking worn).

If you find a vintage piece with good bones, snap it up and consider reupholstering it yourself with a trusty staple gun! I’ve been searching for the perfect long bench to do this with for years.

I haven't found the right thing yet, but I know it’ll appear at some point (it always does). In the meantime, I have a whole drawer of gorgeous fabrics ready and waiting for their moment in the spotlight.

3. Cushions

I used to leaf through interior design magazines and envy the gorgeous cushion combinations. How do designers get them to work so perfectly together? Where do they buy them?

Now, I know the secret: they have them made.

Going custom allows you to mix and match piping, edging, fronts, and backs to get exactly what a specific room needs. You can pair a bold floral with a stripe in the exact right colour match or get a long bolster cushion that fits a bed perfectly (high street versions are almost always too small).

I used to think custom cushions were only for the rich. Now, I firmly believe we all deserve to have beautiful, well-made things in our homes. Etsy is a great resource for this and again, Ebay offers some amazing fabric remnants at a great price and Vinted is another place to keep your eye on – it amazes me that there are so many wonderful makers out there. Katy Takla makes a lot of my cushions, and the finish is top notch if anyone needs a helping hand.

I always try to take a "high/low" approach when designing my own home – mixing high-street finds with unique designer pieces. Cushions are the perfect playground for this strategy.

The formula: take two off-the-shelf linen cushions, mix in one or two specially made custom cushions, and you instantly get a high-end, bespoke look for half the cost.

If you want more inspiration, I shared an Instagram post a couple of months back called ‘Cushion Love’ where I shopped around for the best ready-to-buy options and talked through ideas for mixing and matching.

Is it more expensive to have things custom-made than to buy off-the-shelf? Without a doubt. But your home should tell your story, not the high street's. Don't discount saving up for that one special piece or investing in a single custom cushion for your favourite chair – it's always worth it in the long run.

Going bespoke is the difference between a house that looks good, and a home that feels entirely you. And that is priceless!

Strategist and content creator Francesca Swan is one of Ideal Home's new Open House contributors, sharing her thoughts on the concept of 'Everything' and what makes a home special to you. See the rest of her articles here.

It was 1am, and I was panic-buying artificial acer trees from deep, dubious and highly unsustainable corners of the internet. It was an understatement to say I’d lost sight of my priorities – sleep and self-care among them.

A clear wake-up call that my Everything feeling had deserted me and I was desperately searching for that joy and connection with myself and my home at any cost. I think we can all agree no one is finding anything of any meaning with the arrival of four plastic £23.99 trees. Or the super fun process of returning them.

It’s easy to lose perspective during stressful or chaotic periods, especially renovations. When you’re jaded and creatively drained, you can become blind to what’s right in front of you. In my case, this unfortunate episode was a sign that burnout was looming. It was time to get away. I needed to relax, reset and re-energise in places that would bring my Everything feeling flooding back.

A trip away is a luxury and a privilege, when finances, schedules and commitments can make it feel impossible. But it’s important to remember how valuable these breaks are. Even just one night gives you essential space to clear your head and forget your day-to-day routine.

So, in a rare moment of practising what I preach, I took myself on a much-needed road trip. Not just because I desperately needed rest and distance (and to not let builders in at 8am every morning), but also to reawaken my creative muse.

It worked.

I returned inspired and excited about design again – a very welcome change from exhaustion, overwhelm and an endlessly frustrating circle of questioning every decision.

Finding your Everything experiences

A beautifully designed hotel is not just a place to stay. Stepping inside any well-thought through space offers a uniquely sensory shortcut to inspiration, because you completely interrupt digitally driven autopilot.

Especially valuable when you’re edging towards burnout, with a huge to do list and sourcing everything through screens. Decision overwhelm is real and the algorithm is trained to “help” – serving you what is trending, soothing your addled brain with the blind and bewitching confidence only AI possesses. Before you know it, your home can drift into a generic cut and paste, rather than something unique, you’ve knowingly created.

Being physically immersed in an environment allows you to notice atmosphere, flow, light, sound and texture. Your emotional reaction to colour, scale and pattern. You can understand why something works because you’re feeling it first-hand. Not to mention, the huge benefit of hopefully being slightly removed from distraction of your day-to-day life and visual noise of your own home.

Finding an Everything experience means being intentional about where you stay. Finding places that speak to your soul and making sure you don’t end up in a bland, poorly designed hotel that drains the life-blood from you – the exact opposite of what you need.

My three destinations – The George in Rye, The Alfriston and The Painswick – all shared distinct themes central to my style: period buildings with modern accents, unusual colour and styling combinations, layered fabrics and textures and a strong sense of place and storytelling. Safe to say, they all clearly understood the brief, delivering three wonderful nights I would highly recommend if you, like me, are looking to rediscover your love for design.

The George in Rye

Walking into The George in Rye, the renowned destination hotel nestled amongst Rye's cobbled medieval streets, I’m immediately transported. Original Elizabethan beams and panelling tell me this building has lived many lives.

Glimpses of colour, shape and texture instantly remind my tired brain of the marvellous possibilities that exist beyond my own four walls, lifting me from my renovation-induced haze of stress and chaos.

If this hotel were a person, they would undoubtedly be the most interesting in the room. They’ve explored all corners of the world, immersed themselves in different cultures and eras of design, hunting down hidden treasures, from Georgian sideboards to post modernist Italian lighting.

Katie and Alex Clarke bought The George in Rye in 2004 as a run-down coaching inn and have spent the past 22 years lovingly bringing it back to life. Dating from 1575, the Grade II-listed hotel retains many original features, and over the centuries has slowly evolved into a fascinating collection of historic buildings (including a magnificent Regency ballroom, no less) and the sought-after retreat it is today.

This considered and respectful restoration and blending of different periods is the result of the design collaboration between Maria Speake and James Stevens of Retrouvius alongside Katie. It is a celebration of the myriad possibilities architecture and interior design can create in the right hands.

Katie’s focus on creating what she describes as “layered character spaces with personality”, perfectly sums up each unique room, clearly designed to make you think. Every step beckons to something new and unexpected, rewarding your curiosity with another detail to discover and idea to take home.

The palette is rooted in nature, with warming tones of stone, yellow, terracotta, mulberry and green all working together throughout to accentuate the original architecture and create distinct moods that thread naturally from room to room.

Different eras and styles of pattern, texture and antiques mix intentionally – think vintage Casa Pupo lamps with Cole and Son heritage prints. The result is a thought-provoking tension that is instinctively right, sometimes surprisingly so.

Handpicked contemporary art, a collection developed through a years-long collaboration between Katie and Marcus Crane from Rye-based gallery McCully & Crane, provides playful punctuation of bold contrast colours, tying each space together with ease.

In one of my favourite rooms, smoky dark lilac walls pair unexpectedly with the toffee coloured oak beams and a reclaimed and restored emerald-green striped velvet sofa. An oversized tapestry cushion of a naked woman reclining in a forest is overlooked by a contemporary abstract of two people, sitting comfortably – a subtly humorous touch that beckons me to settle in with my book.

Sweeping abstract appliqué curtains lead to the restaurant, where deep burnt mulberry walls, tobacco leather banquettes and warm timber create an atmospheric space for relaxation, softly framed by sculptural woven lights overhead. A wonderfully idiosyncratic cabinet combining textured ceramic fronts, brutalist inspired metal detailing adds another interesting feature – all food for thought and conversation.

I stayed in a hugely inviting junior suite wrapped in shades of sand, honey, ochre and sage green, anchored by a botanical William Morris print. Not to mention the luxurious burnished copper, roll-top bath, overlooking Rye’s quirkily uneven rooftops.

Framing the eaves window is a set of whimsical handmade curtains, featuring a hand embroidered panel Katie sourced from Ardingly Antiques Fair and assembled with green velvet and oatmeal linen on a kitchen table. They ultimately inspired the entire room. It stands to prove my long-held philosophy that the best interiors begin with just one loved, meaningful piece, from which an entire room design then grows around.

This explains precisely why The George in Rye evokes such a strong Everything feeling in me. Nothing feels random or purely decorative. Every object has character, history and intention. Katie’s advice for design is simply to: “Trust your taste and have fun with it”. And truly, you can feel they’ve done exactly that in every beautifully considered centimetre.

The Alfriston

Set on the edge of the rolling South Downs, The Alfriston sits in bucolic gardens and orchards, and boasts an incredible outdoor pool (think Tuscany in East Sussex) and luxurious spa. The hotel itself is a romantic and characterful blend of English country house design, the playful personality of the Bloomsbury Group with a dash of relaxed Sussex charm.

Recently acquired and restored by The Signet Collection, the Georgie Wykeham Designs interiors sit inside the building’s history, rather than erase it. Founder Hector Ross says “We celebrated the period bones of the original building – beams, leaded windows, fireplaces, cosy nooks, historic proportions – using them as a framework to add colour and pattern”.

The result is welcoming, atmospheric and deeply connected to its location. The palette echoes the surrounding landscape, with soft chalky pinks, warm ochres, muted greens and earthy neutrals creating a subtle dialogue between the interiors and the South Downs.

This is evident nowhere more so than The Orangery, which captures many of the hotel’s signatures: natural light, stunning views of the garden and pool, with soft pink hand painted wallpaper of birds and branches.

The decorative spirit of nearby Charleston is paid homage in the stunning entrance hall. The playful and expressive brushwork of the hand-painted furniture and murals echo the Bloomsbury Group's belief that art should infuse everyday life and create a spontaneous moment of personality. A perfect example of how this once-neglected country house has been beautifully brought back to life.

The individually styled bedrooms continue that approach, with upcycled antiques, patterned textiles and painted finishes creating charismatic combinations. The fabrics throughout have the same relaxed confidence – floral motifs, hand-painted influences and tactile natural textures sitting comfortably alongside one another without ever feeling overly styled.

Hector’s top takeaway to recreate The Alfriston’s style? “Choose one strong decorative thread – a fabric, a painted piece, a wallpaper or a colour – then build around it with pieces that feel collected, not matched. Avoid buying everything from one range. Mix old and new, add something hand-painted or imperfect, and let pattern appear in more than one place: curtains, lampshades, headboards, cushions or furniture”.

I particularly loved that despite the richness of colour and pattern, The Alfriston never tips into feeling overly themed or precious. Instead, it feels curated and lived-in with a gentle theatrical ease – bold enough to feel distinctive, comfortable enough to properly relax in.

The Painswick

This beautiful hotel brought something slightly different again: calmness.

High above a beautiful Cotswolds valley, the Grade II-listed Palladian house has a quiet, understated style. Originally built in the late 18th century, the hotel has been thoughtfully restored by The Calcot Collection, carefully balancing the building’s historic character with touches of relaxed, contemporary luxury. The atmosphere is warm, welcoming and comfortable, with none of the rigid formality sometimes familiar with country house hotels.

Like the other hotels, The Painswick understands the importance of respecting and working with a period building, rather than fighting against it.

Nothing shouts for attention. Everything feels carefully chosen to echo the architecture, honey-coloured stone buildings and beautiful countryside beyond. The huge arched windows frame views like paintings, allowing the scenery to become part of the design scheme itself.

The subtle, architecturally considered colour palette quietly reflects the landscape, with soft stone, warm greige, mushroom and oatmeal tones sitting alongside muted sage greens, tobacco browns and inky blues.

The lighting is deceptively simple but effective. Oversized smoked-glass pendants add a gentle modern accent, while carefully chosen wall lights add warmth and intimacy. The combination is contemporary but completely at ease within the historic building.

Pattern is used sparingly and thoughtfully, bringing interest through texture, shape and repetition. Panelled walls, herringbone timber floors, striped upholstery and softly woven fabrics create depth without distracting. Local makers and craftspeople have been incorporated throughout, with fabrics sourced from British textile houses including Lewis & Wood, Rapture & Wright and St Jude's.

In my exhausted state, I particularly appreciated the effortless ease. From the cosy lounges and open fires to the sweeping valley views beyond the windows, everything encourages you to slow down and properly switch off and fully appreciate the beauty of the setting, both inside and out.

One of my biggest lessons from The Painswick was that not every room needs a bold statement piece. Sometimes a limited palette, beautiful materials, good proportions and excellent lighting are enough. Calm comfort can be just as memorable as drama.

Finding your Everything elsewhere

My advice for you is honestly very simple: get off Pinterest and book the break.

If you feel stuck, overwhelmed or uninspired, remember that your Everything exists elsewhere too, and finding that is exactly what helps you rediscover it at home. Even researching places that catch your eye, in locations you love, is fun. Find a hotel whose style you love, then go and soak it up. Even if just for a long, lazy lunch.

When you’re there, pay attention. Consider combinations and details you maybe wouldn’t have before. Notice if and why something works emotionally. Not just how spaces look, but how they function and feel. The placement of furniture and lights. Storage. Flow. Atmosphere. Is there something especially seamless or comforting you could recreate at home?

Take photographs. Ask questions. I’ve learnt that hotels are usually delighted to share, simply because they appreciate people who genuinely love their interiors. I’ve learnt not to think of boutique hotels purely as luxury escapes and instead, embrace them as rich sources of inspiration, education and joy.

Also, make sure you don’t accidentally waste a trip. There’s nothing more disappointing than hastily booking somewhere dull at the last minute and returning more drained than when you left. Your creative muse needs nurturing, so be purposeful about finding a joyful and rewarding experience.

It’s not just a break from everyday life. It’s a chance to reconnect with yourself, your instincts and feeling of Everything all over again. Then comes the fun part: taking those ideas home and seeing where they lead.

Home decorator Ammarah Hasham is one of Ideal Home's new Open House contributors, sharing her thoughts infusing her rental house with plenty of personality. See the rest of her articles here.

One of my favourite school run rituals, whenever I have a bit of time to spare, is leaving a little early for pick up and spending those extra few minutes wandering around TK Maxx (which is dangerously close to the school). Yes, I consider myself very lucky.

That little pocket of me time, blissful in itself, is usually spent in one of the two places: the skincare section mooching around and discovering products I absolutely don’t need, or the candle aisle, sniffing my way through rows of scented candles and falling for the names long before I even have a chance to smell them.

Those few moments feel wonderfully indulgent in the middle of a busy day…

I have always been a bit of a skincare junkie, but candles? Candles are a funny little thing. At one point they were simply a source of light. Now we buy them because they smell like fig leaves, library books, cashmere jumpers and things that don't actually have a smell.

It reminds me of a quote that is often attributed to Thomas Edison: “We will make electricity so cheap that only the rich will burn candles”.

Now, electricity may have missed that particular memo, but he may have had a point about candles. Not because candles remained a source of luxury, but somewhere along the way they became tied up with the idea of comfort, cosiness and a slightly admirable version of ourselves. And that is what I want to talk about today.

Why are we so obsessed with scented candles?

The visual appeal

Candles are incredibly easy on the eye. Before I even pick a candle, it's usually the colour, shape or packaging that draws me in.

I have always considered candles as tiny decorative objects that happen to smell nice. If one doubles up as decor and works with the rest of the room, chances are it is heading straight for the basket.

Oh, and don’t you agree that some candles feel too pretty to burn? Buying them purely for aesthetics, you know? Do you ever do that? If a candle looks more like a sculpture, I end up using it as a display piece rather than burning it.

But even unlit, they bring me joy.

The element of nostalgia

Perhaps one of the reasons we love scented candles so much is that fragrance has a remarkable way of stirring up memories when we least expect it.

Have you ever caught a particular scent and suddenly found yourself thinking about a moment tucked away in your memory? Unlike photographs, scent doesn’t just remind us of those moments. It reminds us of how those moments felt.

That is why, for many candle lovers, a scented candle is more than just wax in a jar. It is a journey back to a particular place, person or chapter in time. The candle itself may slowly disappear as it burns, but the memories and emotions it evokes tend to linger much longer.

It may also explain why candle descriptions are so wildly specific. On paper, names like Sunday Morning, Grandma’s Kitchen, Beach Walk and Velvet Rose make very little sense. Yet we’re drawn to them anyway.

We are buying nostalgia, beautifully packaged in a glass jar, carrying memories our brains aren’t ready to let go of.

The act of self care

As a child, I still remember the chunky pillar candles we owned. I would sit in front of them making animal shadows with my hands, watching my creations dance across the walls. I can still picture that soft, ethereal glow filling the room and remember being totally mesmerised by the flickering flame. There was something almost magical about it.

As cliché as it may sound, lighting a scented candle has become one of the simplest acts of self-care. It is a small investment in our wellbeing, a wholehearted acknowledgement that it’s time to slow down and let our minds and bodies relax. Perhaps that’s why I still find it all so comforting today. There is something about striking a match, seeing the flame flicker to life and sensing the room slowly become wrapped in our favourite fragrance.

In a world that constantly encourages us to do more, go faster and stay connected, candles invite us to pause. To breathe deeply. To drop our shoulders and watch the shadows dance across the walls.

The power of ambiance

Ever noticed how a harsh room seems to soften the moment a candle is lit? That’s what they do so effortlessly. They create ambiance.

A quick bath suddenly feels spa-like. A simple dinner for two feels more intimate. Even an ordinary evening spent reading a book on the sofa somehow feels more special.

Come to think of it, the room stays exactly the same. The laundry pile that needs folding is probably still sitting in the corner. Yet somehow, everything feels softer, cosier, more inviting, and, a little bit more put together.

Ambiance is one of those things that I’ve always found difficult to put into words. It’s hard to explain but impossible to ignore. You may not be able to put your finger on exactly what’s changed, but you can most certainly feel it.

Candles don’t change our surroundings, but they do change our experience of them.

Now do you see the real magic of candles? That’s why we keep coming back to them. They somehow convince us that our lives are just a little bit more put together when, in reality, we’re wearing old pyjamas and wondering what to cook for dinner.

And honestly, I’m happy to play along.

Home decorator Lara Winter is one of Ideal Home's Open House contributors, sharing her thoughts on revamping a 200 year old cottage to make it right for modern family life. See the rest of her articles here.

There are, of course, the obvious differences. The British ability to apologise when someone else steps on them. The fact that dishes here seem to get washed in approximately one teaspoon of bubbles before being left to “air dry” in full soap glory. And British men removing their shirts in public the second temperatures hit double digits and the sun appears for roughly four minutes. A level of optimism Germans simply cannot compete with.

But after living here for over ten years, I’ve realised the biggest cultural differences actually show up inside our homes.

German interiors tend to be calmer, more practical and a little more restrained. British homes, meanwhile, are gloriously brave. Pattern on pattern? Fine. Dark walls? Absolutely. Floral wallpaper next to an orange velvet sofa? Why not.

Somewhere between those two styles, our modern cottage was born.

My Scandinavian dining nook era

Our newest project – the dining nook – is probably the most German part of our house. It’s very Scandinavian-inspired, or what I lovingly call “expensive-looking IKEA”.

Think warm wood tones, calming neutrals and the kind of space that makes you suddenly want to drink coffee slowly from handmade mugs.

Naturally, practicality had to be involved too. The banquette seating is built from IKEA cabinets because Germans physically cannot relax unless storage has been maximised.

And those drawers aren’t filled with chic minimalist things either. They’re entirely dedicated to the endless art supplies our two creative children apparently require to survive. Paper, pens, glue sticks, googly eyes and approximately nine thousand felt tips without lids – all hidden neatly away behind calm Nordic cabinetry, which feels deeply ironic.

The aggressively British cottage kitchen

Then there’s our kitchen, which has fully embraced its English cottage identity. It has exposed beams, quirky corners and the sort of cosy energy that makes you feel like someone should constantly be baking crumble nearby. German kitchens are usually sleek, efficient and suspiciously fingerprint-free. British kitchens, meanwhile, seem designed around emotional support tea breaks.

I’ve completely fallen in love with that lived-in charm over the years. The English really know how to make homes feel welcoming. There’s far less obsession with perfection here. If something is slightly wonky but charming? Even better.

Meanwhile, my German instincts still occasionally whisper: “But would this be considered practical?”, to which Britain replies: “No. Anyway, here’s some floral wallpaper”.

The pink ceiling that shocked my ancestors

One thing England has definitely taught me is bravery when it comes to colour.

If you’d told me years ago that I would voluntarily paint a ceiling pink, my entire German family line would probably have staged an intervention. Yet here we are.

British homes are so much more playful with colour than German ones. Wallpaper goes everywhere. Ceilings become features. Entire rooms are painted deep green, navy or terracotta without anyone panicking. At first I found it mildly stressful. Now? I love it.

My pink office ceiling somehow makes gloomy British weather feel less offensive, and it gives the room so much personality. The centrepiece is actually my German great-grandmother’s old bureau, which feels wonderfully full-circle somehow. Though honestly, I’m still not entirely sure what she would think about it sitting underneath a pink ceiling. I suspect there would be concerns.

Where both styles finally made peace

Oddly enough, I think our living room is where Germany and England finally stopped arguing.

The cream and green walls feel calmer and more German, while the DIY library wall adds that layered English cosiness I’ve grown to love. Then there’s the orange velvet sofa, the woodburner and approximately one thousand houseplants keeping everything alive. And somehow, it works.

That’s probably the best thing about creating a home over time. It doesn’t have to belong to one country, one trend or one style. Ours has become colourful but calm, cosy but uncluttered.

A little bit German. A little bit British.And, naturally, partially constructed from IKEA cabinets.

Committed home renovators David and Andrew Harrison-Colley (better known on Instagram as The Home Boys) are part of Ideal Home's new Open House contributors, sharing their thoughts on making a home together and living through the tricky parts. See the rest of their articles here.

If you read Part 1, you’ll know the perimeter of our kitchen came together using GoodHome cabinets from B&Q, a few clever in-frame tricks, and roughly £5,000 of patience. Today we’re tackling the part of the kitchen people ask about even more than the perimeter: the island.

The ochre, beadboard-clad, slightly-improbable island that sits in the middle of the room and quietly does the heavy lifting of everyday life. We built it ourselves – frame, panels, paint and all – for under £300, excluding the worktop and the integrated fridge and freezer hidden inside it.

It is, hand on heart, one of the proudest things we’ve made in this house.

Why we built it rather than bought it

We looked at off-the-shelf islands. We looked at made-to-measure islands. Neither did what we needed.

We wanted something big enough to seat four on one side, with a fully integrated fridge and freezer hidden on the other side, and a finish that matched the rest of the kitchen without being matchy-matchy. The quotes we were getting back were enormous – and none of them quite hit the brief.

So, as we tend to, we decided to have a crack at it ourselves.

Step 1: The post-it that started it all

Every great design starts with a post-it note sketch. Or at least, ours did.

Before we ordered a single thing, we sketched the layout on a small post-it: a 2200mm long island, with 400mm drawer cabinets at each end, and a 600mm under-counter freezer and 600mm under-counter fridge tucked into the middle. Total internal width: 2000mm of cabinetry, with a bit of breathing room either side once the end panels went on.

It looked ridiculous. It was also genuinely how we worked it out. We’ve learned over three renovations that you don’t need fancy CAD software to plan something like this – you just need to know your appliance sizes, your cabinet sizes, and roughly how the whole thing wants to sit in the room.

Step 2: Positioning the units and building the timber frame

We started by positioning the two B&Q drawer cabinets and the under-counter fridge and freezer in their final spots on the floor, levelling them carefully on their adjustable feet. Once we were happy with the alignment, we built a simple timber frame around the outside – essentially a skeleton that would hold the decorative panels and tie the whole thing together as one piece of furniture rather than four separate appliances.

The frame is built from standard PSE (planed square edge) softwood from the timber merchant. Nothing fancy. We used a mitre saw to cut everything to length, mitre glue and a set square to get the corners square, and quick-grip clamps to hold the frame steady while the glue went off.

A few things that made a real difference here:

• Get the cabinets perfectly level first. Adjustable feet are your friend. If the cabinets aren’t level, nothing you build around them will look right.
• Build the frame slightly proud of the cabinets at the front, not tight against them. You need to allow enough depth for the cabinet doors / drawers to sit flush with the finished end panels.
• Mitre glue is genuinely brilliant. It bonds in seconds and gives you a strong, clean corner without screws showing.

Step 3: The beadboard panels (and the window-frame trick)

Once the timber frame was up, we needed to fill in the panels. We went for MDF beadboard, which we bought in big sheets and cut to size – it gives that lovely tongue-and-groove cottage look without the cost or the faff of fitting individual planks.

Here’s the bit we’re quite pleased with. To hold the beadboard panels neatly inside the timber frame, we used something called glass bead moulding – the slim, rounded timber bead you’d normally use to hold a pane of glass into a window frame. We mitred it at the corners, sat the beadboard panel inside the frame, and then nailed the bead moulding in around the edges to lock the panel in place.

It does two jobs at once: it holds the panel firmly, and it adds a beautiful little shadow line around each panel that makes the whole thing look like proper joinery rather than DIY. A nail gun (we use a Ryobi cordless one) makes this part fast and clean. Hammer and panel pins work too, just slower.

We then continued the same beadboard treatment all the way around the back of the island – the side where the stools sit. This is the side most people see when they walk into the room, so it was worth the extra effort. A blank MDF back would have given it away as flat-pack-furniture-in-disguise instantly.

Step 4: Painting it (and the colour we matched)

With the construction done, the whole island looked like a raw timber skeleton with white MDF panels – not exactly the showstopper we’d been picturing. Paint was where it came to life.

We chose Dulux Heritage Brushed Gold, which is a warm, ochre-leaning mustard that we’d been circling for months. Because it’s not technically a furniture paint, we had it colour-matched into a Valspar durable furniture paint – that gave us the colour we wanted and the hard-wearing finish we needed for something that gets knocked, leaned on, and wiped down daily.

Three coats, applied with a small foam roller for the flat areas and a soft brush for the beaded grooves. We sanded lightly between coats with a fine-grit paper to keep the finish smooth.

A tip if you’re painting beadboard: load the brush lightly and work the paint into the grooves first, then roll over the flat surface. If you go in roller-first, you end up with drips pooling in the grooves and a textured mess that takes ages to fix.

Step 5: The temporary worktop (we kind of loved it)

While we waited for the right worktop deal to come along, we needed something to use in the meantime. So we cut a sheet of plywood to size, sat it on top of the cabinets, and painted it in a hard-wearing multi-surface paint in a soft off-white.

Honestly? We liked it. More than we expected to. There’s a charm to a painted ply worktop – it’s slightly imperfect, slightly rustic, and it cost almost nothing. We genuinely debated keeping it for a while.

If you’re mid-renovation and your dream worktop is months away, this is a brilliant placeholder that’s actually pleasant to live with rather than an embarrassment to hide.

Step 6: The worktop splurge (and a 40% saving)

The worktop was the one thing we’d always planned to spend on. We’d been quietly stalking Minerox quartz for ages – specifically Calacatta Gold Superior, which has soft, warm veining that picks up the ochre of the island and the terracotta of the floor without competing with either.

We held our nerve, kept the ply in place, and waited. When the 40% off offer finally came through, we jumped on it. Worth every minute of the wait.

One small detail that we’re glad we stood our ground on: we chose a bullnose edge, which gives a soft, rounded profile to the worktop edge. The salesman tried to talk us out of it – apparently it’s “old fashioned and not really done anymore”. Which was, of course, exactly why we wanted it.

In a cottage, with terracotta tiles underfoot and beams overhead, a sharp modern square edge would have looked completely wrong. The bullnose feels timeless and slightly traditional, which is exactly the point.

What we’d say to anyone thinking about doing the same

• Start with a sketch. Post-it note optional. Sketch your appliance widths, your cabinet widths, and your total length before you order anything. It’s the quickest way to spot a problem.
• Don’t be intimidated by the framing. A timber skeleton around standard flat-pack cabinets is one of the most achievable DIY upgrades you can make. If you can use a mitre saw and a set square, you can do this.
• Use glass bead moulding for the panels. It’s a tiny detail that does enormous work. The shadow line is what stops your panels looking like they’ve been glued on.
• Wrap the back of the island properly. The side guests see is not the side you want to skimp on.
• Live with a temporary worktop and wait for the right deal. A painted ply worktop is genuinely fine. Don’t panic-buy something you’ll regret.
• Trust your instincts on finishes. If the salesman tells you something is old-fashioned, that might be exactly the reason to choose it.

Standing in the kitchen now – ochre island, grey-green perimeter, terracotta floor running underneath the lot, beams overhead, and a quartz worktop catching the morning light – it’s hard to believe we built the centrepiece of it ourselves for the price of a weekend away.

But we did. And if you’ve been wondering whether you could pull off something similar in your own kitchen, our honest answer is: probably yes. It’s slower than buying. It’s messier than buying. But there’s something about standing at an island you built yourself, making a cup of coffee, that no amount of money can quite replicate.

That’s it for the DIY kitchen diaries – for now, at least. Onto the next room.

Content creator Lucy Kalice is one of Ideal Home's Open House contributors, sharing her thoughts on cleaning, home decor and making the most of small spaces. See the rest of her articles here.

Screen printer Hannah Carvell is one of Ideal Home's new Open House contributors, sharing her thoughts on colourful home design for a creative family to live in. See the rest of her articles here.

There’s a phrase I’ve been trying to hold onto lately: "these are the good days". I first heard genius Hannah Fry talk about it in the context of happiness, the idea that, at some point in the future, you’ll look back on an ordinary day and realise it was actually a good one and actually by repeating this phrase to yourself it is proven to increase your happiness levels.

I loved the sentiment so much that I even turned it into a screen print last year. The theory is that recognising happiness while you’re living it can actually make you happier. And I really think she’s onto something.

I’ve been thinking about that a lot at home because, if I’m honest, I have a habit of treating our house as something that’s always on its way to becoming better. Waiting for the “after”.

For years, I’ve approached our homes like a series of before-and-afters. In fact, in our last house a huge renovation project, I spent three years living in the “before”, dreaming of the “after”.

I have endless photos on my phone documenting dusty rooms, knocked-down walls and half-finished spaces. But by the time the mint green Crittall doors I’d dreamt about for years were finally fitted, we already knew we were going to have to sell the house. The enjoyment I’d imagined just wasn’t there.

Looking back now though, I can see that those three years were the good days. The planning, the anticipation, the discovering, the everyday life unfolding amongst the mess and upheaval, we still had kids birthdays and a new puppy join the family, that was the real part. Life isn’t the finished reveal. It’s the living.

And yet, there’s often this feeling with homes that the real enjoyment comes later: once the room is finished, once the decisions are made, once everything finally feels pulled together. The problem is, there’s always another “before” another project, another thing that could be improved. Somewhere along the way, I realised I was spending a lot of time living in the not quite yet. The life happening in between is where the memories are made.

The reality of our current home is far less resolved. We haven’t touched any of the bedrooms yet. Come winter, there are damp patches, bits of peeling wallpaper and mismatched Facebook Marketplace furniture. But they’re cosy and comfortable, and for now, that’s enough.

If we save for any renovation next, it probably needs to be the old glass lean-to attached to the front of the house. Its roof is cracked in so many places that every storm makes me slightly nervous. It leaks when it rains. And yet, it’s also one of the most lived-in parts of our home.

It’s where shoes and coats get thrown at the end of the day. The dogs spend entire summer afternoons stretched out in the sun there. We’ve raised chicks and ducklings in the space during springtime, and my houseplants thrive in the light.

It’s imperfect, but deeply functional and when I think about what we’ll remember from these early years in our cottage, it won’t be the cracks in the roof or the jobs we never got round to. It’ll be fluffy yellow chicks under a heat lamp, trays of seedlings on the windowsill and the way the whole space glows in late summer.

I’ve noticed something similar in my screen printing.There’s always a temptation to rush towards the final layer the point where the print feels finished and resolved. But often, the most interesting stages happen somewhere in between.

If you follow my Instagram, you’ll know I always say the test sheets are often my favourites. When colours overlap unexpectedly, or a mark lands slightly off, the prints can end up feeling freer and more alive than the carefully planned version (these are always the ones that end up in my Sample Sales, a true one off piece of art).

You can’t skip those stages. They are the process and I’m starting to think living in a home works in much the same way. Enough, as it is.

I’ve also been really drawn lately to the idea of “enoughness”, explored by Melanie Rickey the quiet sense that what you already have, as it is, can be enough. Not perfect. Not finished. But enough to live in, enjoy and appreciate.

That shift has changed how I think about both my home and consumption generally. I still love interiors, fashion and beautiful things, but I no longer feel the same urgency to constantly upgrade or acquire. Partly because budgets are tighter these days, but also because I’ve become more conscious of the environmental cost of endlessly consuming.

Slowing down has made me appreciate what’s already here. When you stop viewing your home as a problem to solve, you start noticing it differently, the familiarity of worn furniture, the comfort of everyday rituals, the beauty in things that have evolved slowly over time.

I’m not about to stop decorating, planning or rearranging things that’s still part of what I love. But I am trying to hold that phrase in mind more often. "These are the good days”.

Not the imagined “after”, where everything finally comes together exactly as planned. But this version. The slightly undone, still-evolving, properly lived-in version.

Because one day, I’ll look back on this house the peeling wallpaper, the cluttered tables, the in-progress prints and realise it wasn’t a waiting room for something better. It was it.

Interior designer Natalie Jahangiry is one of Ideal Home's new Open House contributors, sharing her thoughts on decorating a home to suit a busy family life while sticking to your aesthetic values, too. See the rest of her articles here.

You know that moment when you walk into a restaurant for date night; the babysitter is at home, you’ve actually put makeup on, you’re ready for a large glass of wine…and then you’re hit with garishly bright lighting that instantly makes you want to leave? I look at Tom, he looks at me and I give him that look where he knows we’re absolutely not staying.

That’s exactly how I feel about harsh lighting at home too. Nothing kills the atmosphere faster. So please, for the love of ambience, don’t invite me over if the big light is your only option.

The way I see lighting (whether at home or in a great cocktail bar) is that it should set the tone. I want it to feel intimate, atmospheric and a sense of cocooning. Yes, lighting needs to be practical, but it should also create a sense of warmth, while adding depth and detail that shapes the mood of a room.

Lighting and the finer details are key to shaping a space, especially layered lighting in a kitchen. Rather than relying on one overall light source, think about the room in zones. With a kitchen, albeit a practical space, it is also a central spot where so much everyday life happens…cooking, dining, entertaining, homework, late night chats (and possibly a little kitchen dancing too!).

It's multi-functional and therefore the lighting needs to be carefully thought about and should flex with the needs throughout the day and time of the year. Done well, it completely changes how the space feels as a whole.

How I layered my kitchen lighting for every occasion

While renovating our kitchen, I thought about lighting...a lot (probably too much). The old space was filled with harsh spotlights, so getting the new scheme right became a huge part of the design process.

I wanted it to feel softer, more considered and adaptable to how we actually use the room day to day. So here’s how I used layered lighting to completely shift the feel of the space.

Around the kitchen with Industville

When it came to the kitchen, I wanted to introduce another layer of texture, something that had a nod to the heritage feel of the cabinetry, while still sitting beautifully alongside the statement worktop and industrial pipe that has our electrics running through it (read more about that here).

So I turned to Industville, who have a brilliant collection of contemporary lighting. I knew their designs would sit perfectly within my scheme, adding contrast through the mix of brass and glass finishes.

Founded by Mara Rypacek Miller in 2013, the brand was born from a desire to make beautifully designed lighting more accessible. Inspired by vintage industrial style and European flea-market finds, Industville has become known for its timeless silhouettes, rich finishes and statement pieces that bring warmth and character to modern interiors.

I’m not a fan of everything matching perfectly, so I chose the Noho pleated metal wall lights above the splashback and ribbed glass dome pendants over the island. The pleated detailing across both styles ties them together just enough to feel cohesive, without everything feeling overly coordinated.

In the main kitchen area, I also married the wall and pendant lighting with A FEW spots (mainly for Tom, I can hand on heart say I've never turned the spots on), strip lighting which is incorporated within the worktop dresser units themselves and cordless rechargeable table lamps dotted throughout the space, creating plenty of flexibility to shift the lighting depending on the mood.

In the dining room with Spark & Bell

I wanted a light that not only cast a lovely glow over the dining table, but also acted as a real focal point in the space itself...something sculptural enough to hold its own against the asymmetric window behind it.

Enter Spark & Bell’s Florence Chandelier, made from recycled plastic and suspended from a single multi-drop ceiling rose, it can be fully customised, from the cord lengths and colour to the metal finish, which made it feel much more personal to the room.

Spark & Bell are a really interesting company in themselves. Founded in Brighton in 2015 by former fine arts photographer Emer Gillespie, Spark & Bell is known for its beautifully handmade lighting and relaxed, collaborative approach. The family-run brand creates made-to-order pieces for both homes and commercial spaces, working closely with designers to create lighting that feels personal, thoughtful and a little bit different.

I absolutely love this statement piece, the slight nod to a flower petal shape, the sustainability aspect (being made from recycled plastic) and how it sets the space apart from the kitchen itself. It's one of the first things you see when you look down the room, making it the perfect focal point against the other design details in the space.

Like the island lights, because this light is on a dimmer, I can easily shift the mood in the room, keeping things soft and ambient when hosting a dinner party, or turning the brightness up when the table’s pushed back and the kids are using the space to play.

I’ve paired the pendant light with another USB rechargeable table lamp on the table and a floor lamp nearby to create a layered scheme that gives the space a warm, relaxed ambience.

Kids zone with Dowsing & Reynolds

When it came to the children’s area, I wanted the lighting to work hard for all the different ways the space would be used, from cosy TV time and crafts creating to disco dancing and mealtime. With the help of Dowsing & Reynolds, I replaced standard flush spotlights with directional spots to create more intentional lighting, alongside the Bramley wall light with fluted shade (which is a dimmable wall light) to bring a softer, cosier feel when needed.

Dowsing & Reynolds was founded in Yorkshire in 2012 by husband-and-wife duo James Dowsing-Reynolds and Ally Dowsing-Reynolds. What began as James experimenting with handmade concrete lighting and vintage style bulbs quickly evolved into a brand known for its statement lighting, hardware and decorative home accessories. The brand has since become recognised for its playful approach to interiors, blending industrial influences with warm, characterful design.

What I particularly love is the glass shade on the wall light itself. The fluted shape casts the most beautiful shadow below, and because it’s on a dimmer switch it creates a softer, more moody glow. As this is the darkest area of the room, it’s a light we use every single day. We have also used the same light in the bar area, which casts a wonderful warmth above the shelves below.

Creating mood through lighting

Layered lighting is one thing I’ll always advocate for in a kitchen (and most of the social areas in a home). Rather than relying on one overhead source, think in zones and mix practical lighting with softer, more atmospheric touches.

Use focused task lighting where you prep and cook, add dimmable pendants or wall lights for warmth, and incorporate subtle details like under cabinet lighting or rechargeable lamps to soften the mood.

And please, pleaseeee avoid endless runways of harsh spotlights!! A few carefully placed spots/downlights will always feel more considered and elevated.

The kitchen works hard as a space for cooking, entertaining and everyday living, so your lighting should be flexible enough to shift with it.

Home decorator and content creator Leah Hodson is one of Ideal Home's new Open House contributors, sharing her thoughts on overhauling a home with clever DIY and decorating tricks. See the rest of her articles here.

My non-negotiable when looking for a house three years ago was that the house needs to have a new kitchen. Well, I didn’t get that in the end, as I realised that kitchens can always be renovated at a later date.

However, what I traded a new kitchen for were things that we couldn’t change in the future, like a decent-sized drive and access to amenities like schools, shops and even a faster train than we previously had to London!

The time for renovating our kitchen has finally come – I’ve been planning a new kitchen in my head for the last few years. Finally, after years of dreaming and months of working with my kitchen planner, my dream kitchen was delivered last week!

Jennifer, my Smile Kitchen planner was so patient and offered several solutions to my design dilemmas, including a last minute change after ordering my kitchen.

There was much to be done before the kitchen installation which I never considered when starting out this kitchen renovation! One thing I didn’t consider was leveling the floor. I assumed that the floor was level considering there were units on it previously, however we soon found out it was very uneven.

I considered doing the latex myself, however my husband was worried we’d then have to get someone in to correct any mistakes, so he’s gone ahead and hired a professional to level the floor instead. Secretly, I’m very thankful – one less job for me to do!

With constantly shifting timelines due to building works, I had assumed the electrician could carry out the second fix of electrics after the kitchen was installed, however I was advised by our builders that the counter top switches and lights should be installed prior to the kitchen as it would be tricker to install after.

I whipped out the paint rollers so quickly after he said that, but there were still so many walls that needed painting!

A little design choice I made after painting all the walls in an offwhite (RAL 9001, which is a very close match to Farrow and Ball’s School House White) was to paint the uPVC windows. I felt like the room needed a little pop of colour, so I used Rustoleum’s Laurel Green to bring the outside in. It’s the first time I used Rustoleum’s UPVC paint and I’m impressed with how easy it was to paint on the uPVC - it even passed the scratch test!

The kitchen I’ve gone for is the Jenson range from Smile Kitchen in Clay, a soft greige tone that perfectly balances modern and traditional design. While greige kitchens can sometimes lean a little cold, layering in warmer tones and softer details makes all the difference.

For me, the painted window introduces that warmth back into the space, softening the cabinetry and helping the kitchen feel more inviting and lived in.

Finally to the main event, the day that feels like Christmas day for me – kitchen installation! We’ve been without a kitchen since January and as someone who cooks all our meals, it’s been a challenge to say the least. But it is all worth it for a kitchen that I’ve designed (with the kitchen designer of course!).

We’re really happy with the build quality of Smile Kitchens – our fitter says the units are the best he’s seen for a long time! He was most impressed by how solid the cornice is and the 18mm backboard which is rare in kitchens that aren’t £100k!

You never know how much there is to consider until speaking to a kitchen designer to make sure the doors open easily without hindrance or if the flow works.

The kitchen fitting has only just started but we’ve run into a few troubles already! Like finding out that there’s a corner post missing that I’ve not noticed or a wall that isn’t flat and bows out in the middle. This is when not only the kitchen design matters but the kitchen fitter’s experience too! So I’m thankful we decided against fitting it ourselves as we would’ve been very out of our depth!

I’m not an interior designer but just a girl with a keen eye for design, trying to create a home that looks expensive without actually breaking the bank (aka champagne taste on a lemonade budget!) so I’m excited to finally see it all come together, after five long months of building works and eight weeks of waiting for my kitchen to be made.

Watching my design ideas slowly take shape piece by piece has been stressful at times, but incredibly rewarding now that everything is starting to feel cohesive and truly worth it.

Amanda Jones is one of Ideal Home's new Open House contributors, sharing her thoughts on sustainable living and decorating a home in way that is good for the environment. See the rest of her articles here.

As I write this I’m sat in my garden, the sun is shining, it's warm. There is a glass of cool water on the table beside me, I feel happy. I can hear the main road in the distance, my next-door neighbour (well into his 80s) is digging in his vegetable patch, the neighbours at the bottom of my garden are building an extension, I hear a hammer and occasionally a drill.

My focus however is on the bird song, which is abundant. We are surrounded by mature trees, providing habitat and food for them. I have sparrows nesting in the eaves of the roof, there is a robin in next-doors conifer, and a pigeon has found a spot in a nearby quince tree. My garden is my peace and my haven, my grounding, in turbulent times.

Today we have a mass of studies about the benefits of gardening on the human psyche, and our mental health. Research confirming how human contact with the soil, can directly alter the microbial content of our stomach, creating happy hormones, leading to a better balance of our minds. There are even some progressive NHS trusts, that prescribe garden therapy, alongside or instead of pharmaceutical interventions, for those struggling with their mental health.

Whilst all this is fascinating, I want to write about how being in my garden has helped me cope with grief, acceptance of a new life, and maintaining an equilibrium, in what is a challenging and complex life.

I think it all started with my Mum. She was a passionate gardener, despite her busy life, running a business, caring for her elderly parents and young family. Every spare moment she had, and there weren’t that many, she would rush out into her small garden to tend her plants. She grew vegetables, which was ironic as we lived in a corner shop and had plenty of food available. The desire to grow you own food, when you have it, is strong.

I must have been subconsciously influenced by my mother’s gardening passion, I certainly wasn’t weeding side by side with her as a child, I was off roaming the neighbourhood with my friends (to be honest, I’m not sure how welcomed I would have been, her garden was her sanctuary too). As soon as I got my own garden at twenty-one, I became instantly hooked, it was only then that I started to understand why my mum needed hers.

Initially gardening was a gentle hobby, pottering around my tiny patch, mainly at the weekends, or summer evenings. In hindsight, it helped me deal with some of the demands and stresses I had at work, although I probably wouldn’t have been able to articulate that back then. When I had my family, the garden for a while at least, was their play space. My needs fitted around theirs, at the edges, in the flower beds.

As I have grown older however, it has once again, become a vital space for me. The healing aspect of my garden truly came into play, when within just the space of a few months, my lovely mum was diagnosed with dementia, and I became ill, later to be diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. My whole life changed very suddenly, and I turned to my garden to help me cope with those changes. It has literally kept me sane in what at times, has felt like an insane life.

A few years later, when due to my deteriorating health, I had to finish the career I loved, my garden became a new focus on me. A way to keep both my mind and body active. I’ve had to make lots of adaptions to my garden to do this, and I may no longer garden in the way I did before, but the most important fact is, gardening is still accessible to me.

To me, it’s a meditation. Focusing on one small task at a time, I try and blank out the worldwide noise, and the noise that sometimes accumulates in my head. Gardening reduces that noise, it’s never completely gone, but for a short time it’s a manageable whisper.

When we plant a seed, we plant hope in our hearts. When we plant a tree, we create a future, the kind of future we envisage our grandchildren to live in. Gardening gives me all the usual benefits, being outside, moving my uncooperative body, getting some vitamin D, connecting to nature. It also gets me that vital dose of microbial soil medicine, that will enter my brain and affect my mood. But much more than that, it’s about hope.

I can’t control what’s happening in the world, or what our leaders do, or don’t do. I can’t control the damage big corporations are doing to our planet. Neither can I control the changes and complexities life throws at me. I can control however, the love and care that I give to the little patch of earth I’m custodian of. Gardening really does keep me grounded, focused. It’s my therapist, keeping my mind full of calmness and hope.

Home decorator and content creator Grace H is one of Ideal Home's new Open House contributors, sharing her thoughts on colourful home design, mixing vintage pieces with new and making personality-filled spaces. See the rest of her articles here.

If there is one room in your home where you can truly let loose and have a little fun designing, it’s the downstairs loo. While a 'main' bathroom costs a fortune to renovate and comes with a mountain of practical storage factors to consider, the downstairs cloakroom is a golden opportunity to showcase your personality. It is the perfect canvas to get playful, bold, and a little bit brave.

Our downstairs loo was my very first foray into using wallpaper, and now that it’s done, I honestly don’t know what took me so long! I may have started a whole new addiction – I now want to paper every wall in the house. The beauty of using a bold pattern is that everything else can be kept relatively simple, and who doesn’t love that?

To help you tackle your own space, I’m breaking down a few key points to consider when designing a small loo so that it not only works hard for you but looks incredibly pretty doing it.

Storage solutions

A downstairs loo doesn’t need to house thousands of toiletries like a family bathroom, but it's great to have somewhere to hide your cleaning products and maybe some extra loo rolls.

• The clever cabinet – You could add a cupboard over the loo painted in a gorgeous pop of colour, or source something vintage to marry the old with the new (something that is always worth considering and gives a home instant charm). I love how clever my Instagram pal, Beck from @the_interior_lens, was by adding fabric to her nifty storage unit. Adding texture and introducing another pattern (in this case, a classic stripe) is a brilliant way to make a room feel beautifully lived-in and helps to soften the space.

• Stylish storage bins – I also love having a little basket or bin next to the toilet to hold grab-and-go cleaning supplies. The Strand rattan bathroom bin from Kalinko has been on my wish list for years; the design is completely timeless, and that lid is crucial – no one wants your toilet cleaner of choice on display!
• The sink skirt – I so nearly added a skirt to our sink when we redesigned our space, but the other half vetoed it. He doesn’t often say no to my design ideas, but he was adamant on this one (and I guess he does live here too, after all!). I still think they look so chic, and who doesn’t love the idea of extra storage under a basin to hide the ugly stuff? Don't worry, I’m still working on him…

This gorgeous space by Ciara Kenaston showcases perfectly how a sink skirt can add instant softness and pattern to a room.

The power of a ledge

I’ve spoken before about my love for a ledge, and I stand by the fact that it is well worth considering a concealed cistern when making over a small bathroom.

Building out a wall to hide the plumbing creates a built-in ledge, giving you the perfect opportunity for a little styling moment (pretty things only, please!).

It’s a lovely spot to showcase trinkets, treasures, and handy extras like room sprays, candles, or even a mini lamp to make the space feel cosy and inviting.

Now, let's talk wallpaper – the fun bit

There are so many gorgeous, bold wallpapers out there catering to every single budget. I fell hard for Annika Reed’s 'Red Coat' paper and went all out – wrapping it up and over the ceiling and even matching the window blind. It still brings a smile to my face every single time I use the space.

If a full wallpaper moment feels a bit too daunting, consider tiling the bottom half of the wall and adding a fun printed design above, just like Hannah from @atnumbereighteen.

I adore Hannah’s wallpaper choice here from Soff Studios. It’s such a fun pattern, and I spotted some genius concealed storage at the back that almost disappears because of the clever layout. She even wallpapered the flat part of the extractor fan – absolutely brilliant!

Finishing touches

Now on to my absolute favourite part: the details.

We're talking mirrors, shelving, hooks, loo roll holders, and lighting – all the little pieces that are easy to skip past but make all the difference when you get them right.

• Hardware and accessories – In terms of the little details, you can’t go far wrong with MG&Co. Pricier than the high street, but my goodness, do those details sing! We have a wall caddy mirror and a towel hook from Matilda Goad, and they completely finish the room off, instantly elevating the space. Beata Heuman’s 'Pigeon' hook hangs on the back of our door too – it has that perfect mix of beauty and function that you come to expect from a top interior designer.

• The loo roll holder – The Bilton toilet roll holder in antique brass from Rowan & Wren is another fantastic find (we actually have it in our main bathroom). There are plenty of beautiful brass designs out there, but I love the ease of this one for replacing rolls without any fuss. We went with a Grace & Glory design in here to mix it up a bit.

• Little luxuries – One thing you should never skip in a space that will likely be used by guests is a fancy hand soap. Personally, I love the chic, simple packaging of both Verden and Austin Austin (and they smell like an absolute dream). Purdy & Figg also make a product called 'Oh! de Loo’ – deodorising drops you pop right into the toilet bowl. It is super bougee, and frankly, I’m 100% here for it.

Ultimately, a downstairs loo is a great opportunity to show your home a little love as it’s the one room in the house guaranteed to be seen by almost every guest who walks through your door. So why not give them something to talk about?

By pairing smart, hidden storage with unapologetic pattern and those thoughtful finishing touches, you can transform a tiny, practical space into a beautiful little sanctuary for both you and your guests.

Go bold, have fun, and embrace the drama. And if anyone needs me, I’ll be over here with a roll of wallpaper in one hand and a tape measure in the other, trying to figure out which room I can cover next... (and still working on that sink skirt!).

Strategist and content creator Francesca Swan is one of Ideal Home's new Open House contributors, sharing her thoughts on the concept of 'Everything' and what makes a home special to you. See the rest of her articles here.

Do you ever find yourself walking into a room, staring blankly at a wall and asking yourself, “why on earth am I in here again?”.

I do. Frequently.

Oh, the joy and chaos of a two-year renovation, the current world hellscape, plus, well LIFE.

Sound familiar? Unfortunately, that feeling of overwhelm and memory blanks seems to be something we can all relate to on some level these days. It’s all a lot.

Yet beyond those obviously knotty distractions, I think there’s another sneaky culprit responsible too – again, one with which many of us can likely relate.

Our old apartment had a lot of space but cut in completely the wrong way for how we lived. Rooms served many purposes, none of them intentional, so the mind blank and “argggh” explosions were an all too familiar, not to mention all-consuming experience.

The bedroom wardrobes were too small, with double doors and very deep drawers. They were literally exploding and finding what you needed was hugely frustrating daily challenge.

The bed and beautiful House of Holland chaise lounge were permanently covered in messy heaps of clothes, which obviously ruined the serene boutique hotel vibe I was going for.

My office doubled as guest room, with a lot of spare floor space. However, its main, and completely unintended, purpose was a dumping ground. Emergency clear-outs were frequent, only for the chaos creep to start again the next day. Hardly conducive to a productive day’s work.

The result? Daily stress, mess and ongoing hassle of tidying.

My ADHD hates chaos with a passion and adores distraction just as much. It doesn’t give a hoot about my to-do list and will do its best to overpower my logical mind at any possible opportunity – especially when encountering a space that does not meet its exacting standards. I have lost days to impromptu, and mostly unnecessary faffing, obsessively sorting and cleaning.

I need organised, clutter-free spaces to be calm, focussed and in control. My Everything feeling – contentment, joy and immersion in my space – needs to be immediate, so I am present and grounded, and can actually get anything meaningful done.

Needless to say, the overflow of our old place utterly obliterated any chance of that. It was time to move.

We fell in love with our new apartment instantly, for the opportunity to extend and build the summerhouse in the garden. It was the key to creating a space that worked for our lives. A room for every purpose. A place for everything. No overflow. Heaven. The main reason for moving in the first place.

It’s our Forever Home. We will never have to move again. At the very real risk of sounding like a broken record, this matters a lot, because we are never, EVER doing this again.

The summerhouse layout

The summerhouse is a punchy 9m by 3.5m. 31.5m2 – plenty to work with, but only if planned properly.

First and foremost, the guest suite. Big enough for a super king bed and en-suite.

The second office was a non-negotiable. We both work from home and my ADHD is very picky, and often snappy, about conditions, space and separation. Another office removes that grumpy and demanding little issue, providing the other half with what he needs too.

Last, but definitely not least – the gym. A life-long dream and huge luxury. Housing this in the summerhouse again creates separation, plus allows for loud music when we really want to go for it.

Intentional design bones brought to life, with a nod to nature

The interior design for these single purpose rooms – the guest suite, the office and the gym – presented three challenges.

Firstly, designing intentionally to create focus on the purpose and mood of each space.

It’s easy to forget (at least, for my renovation-addled mind) the power of design to influence our emotions and actions and tune in our senses to help our brain work more effectively.

Colour, light, texture, materiality and layout were key – streamlining and stripping back unnecessary noise to remove distraction and create a fully immersive space.

Secondly, making the summerhouse a natural continuation of the apartment, not bolted on or disjointed to the design language I’d already created. Not easy for a separate new build, alongside a Victorian apartment.

Enter, stage right – the existing design bones hold our home together cohesively.

In this case, the Corston Architectural electrical hardware and Flooring Superstore Bavarian Oak Chevron wood flooring.

The rooflights and glazed doors share the black window profiles of the main apartment, mirroring the extension.

Continuing these features of the main apartment into the summerhouse make it flow and feel a permanent part of our home, not a temporary add-on.

Last, but not least…making the most of the surrounding environment.

The summerhouse is enveloped by huge trees, light and peace, with a beautiful view of the verdant canopy through the big rooflights. On a sunny day, light is softly dappled through leaves and birdsong is all you hear. It’s magical and you can forget where you are.

You step out, take a deep breath in and then exhale. It’s an instant wave of Everything and a total reset for your mind, body and soul.

The interiors needed be led by nature to bring the outside in and embed the abundant beauty.

Using nature to guide the design gives a sense of the space belonging to its environment and the bones connect it back to the apartment, tying everything together.

These guardrails, in theory, allow that Everything feeling to flourish more easily in every room, making the spaces work emotionally, practically and aesthetically.

Now, I had a clear starting point to get on with the fun stuff…

A guest suite for relaxation and rest

It’s not a huge space, so needs to function effectively and smartly to create that essential feeling of relaxation.

I’ve stayed in many hotels over the years – some brilliantly designed on very small footprints and some appallingly designed on very big footprints.

It’s not hard – just think about how people practically use the space and what they need to enjoy their stay.

A full-length mirror and a hanging rail. A place for hair and makeup. Charging points and reading lights by the bed. A mini fridge. A home for your luggage. An en-suite with a proper home for toiletries.

These are the things that drive me utterly mad when they’re missing, so they’re built in, with minimal impact on the visual flow and allowing clearance around the big bed.

I’ve added a beautiful oak Happy Beds super king bed, that has a timeless, yet contemporary spindle oak frame to echo the floor, with a low foot-end cleverly creating the illusion of more space.

After a long search for the right mattress, I settled (literally and figuratively in this case!) on Happy Bed’s Annabel 2000 Pocket Spring Natural Pillowtop Mattress Inspired by the world’s best hotel mattresses, it’s plush and layered with natural fillings. It’s so comfortable in fact, that it might have already moved to our room. Ahem.

Matt clay Mas Maya limewash, made from pure Andalusian limestone, brings texture and warmth – it’s also natural and breathable, essential in a new-build and compact space. The irregular finish plays with the daylight and complements the soft green glow created by the tree canopy, feeling organic and soothing.

Rich, tactile fabrics provide the finishing touches – linen and muslin bedding, velvet cushions and a jute rug – a blend rooted into nature, yet equally luxurious and considered.

The en-suite flows from the bedroom, with textured, natural materials and complimentary colours connecting the space.

Drenched light sage Venetian plaster brings organic depth and interest, without overwhelming. Ceppo marble floor tiles provide a unique and exquisite combination of ivory, putty, subtle pink and muted grey greens, echoing the use of marble in the apartment.

A floating Travertine sink creates a vignette opposite the bed, allowing an open plan layout and illusion of space, with the pocket door for privacy as needed. A motion-sensor LED mirror removes the need for wall lights.

Warming accents of brushed gold hardware and spotlights add a final touch of luxury throughout.

You open the door, sinking and stretching out into the sumptuous bed. Looking up at the sky through the huge rooflight, the trees blend softly into the room. You’re immersed in peace, calm and the beauty of nature. The world gently floats away. You relax.

An office for focus and creativity

The most compact room, yet flooded with light, thanks to the glazed door and rooflight. White was the obvious choice – but not to be Goldilocks about it – the RIGHT white. Not too blue, with enough warmth to feel calm, not clinical.

This neutral base allows for subtle accents of colour highlighting the architectural features and mirroring nature.

Pale sky blue in the roof light recess.

Soft leafy green in the door recess.

Warm, gentle sunshine yellow joinery.

All grounded by soft black hardware and the oak flooring, providing balance and cohesion.

It’s clear, structured, yet inspiring – exactly what it needs to be.

A gym for movement and reset

I personally can’t abide gyms with punchy colours and motivational, shouty messaging.

I want a neutral and natural space – beautiful, but almost invisible, removing all distraction, so I can focus on my form and movement, without being overpowered by the décor.

Masmaya Light Sand Limewash provides a gentle contrast to the oak flooring, bronze spotlights and hardware. Accents of black metal in the door, rooflights and mirrors add a contemporary edge, nodding to the reformer pilates machine.

The gym is very similar to a lot of my Pinterest feed – I usually try to avoid this, but sometimes things are popular because they work and there is no point reinventing the wheel for the sake of it. And I love it, so job done.

How to let a room be just one thing

The real problem we had wasn’t the amount of space. It just wasn’t working properly – rooms trying to do too much, pulling in a hundred different directions.

When you strip them back to a core purpose, something shifts. You walk in and know exactly why you’re there. You do what you intended, without distraction or obstacles.

Before, I would start one thing and end up down a rabbit hole with seven others.

Now, I go into the gym and focus on my workout. The guest room is a place purely to switch off. Each space does exactly what it’s meant to, which means I can too.

For me, that creates an instant Everything feeling. It’s the difference between feeling overwhelmed and in control.

Most of us have at least one room that’s intended for one thing, but ends up doing everything and so achieves nothing.

I recognise we are fortunate in solving our problem with the summerhouse – although, it’s definitely come a high cost, in more ways than one.

Yet finding your solution doesn’t require a full renovation or build. It might just be a clear out, better storage, or redecorating to reset the intention and purpose of the space.

So, if you have a room that is essentially a cave of chaos, how could you create some separation and focus? What could you strip back or rethink, so it helps you, instead of hinders you?

Because when a space works properly, life feels easier.

And that’s really the point. Rooms deserve to be rooms. And you deserve a home that works for your needs and feels like Everything.

Home decorator Ammarah Hasham is one of Ideal Home's new Open House contributors, sharing her thoughts infusing her rental house with plenty of personality. See the rest of her articles here.

I don’t know about you, but I always seem to face the same problem.

The moment I actually decide to go shopping with the intention of buying something for the house, I cannot find a single thing worth bringing home. Nothing speaks to me. Nothing seems cart-worthy. Trend-led pieces leave me cold, and I end up wandering around aimlessly before returning home empty-handed.

But the second I try to be sensible with money (which honestly feels deeply out of character for me), suddenly every shop becomes dangerous. The aisles become painfully tempting and my so-called ‘sensible girl era’ starts feeling like the worst idea.

Surely this is not just me?

Anyways, we have been treated to some genuinely gorgeous weather recently and the second nature starts dialling up the colour outside, I immediately feel this urge to freshen things up around the house too, retail detox or not.

Spring has such a funny way of making your home feel like it could do with a little sprucing up.

So if you too are currently trying to balance a love for pretty interiors with a tiny bit of restraint, let me show you how I update my home when I am on a self-imposed austerity drive.

1. Shop your home (it never disappoints)

It's a given, really. I swear half the reason we become bored of our homes is not because we actually dislike the things we own, but because our eyes become far too familiar with seeing them in the exact same spot.

Every. Single. Day.

When was the last time you moved your furniture around?

I love switching things up and giving a room a little facelift by using what I already own first. And yes, before anyone says it, I will fully admit there is a very particular dopamine hit attached to removing labels from new purchases. But honestly, sometimes a little décor treasure hunt around your own home can feel surprisingly satisfying too.

Oddly enough, rummaging through cupboards, opening forgotten drawers and rediscovering old gems feels far more entertaining than it probably should.

Sometimes all a space really needs is a reshuffle rather than a shopping trip. Not a penny spent.

2. Paint an old lampshade

If you are craving an instant update without spending a small fortune, try painting an old lampshade. I have an embarrassing number of lampshade DIYs saved for “one day” and this turned out far better than I expected.

Tester pots, watercolours, fabric dyes, almost anything can work for this kind of project and that is exactly what makes it such a good budget-friendly DIY. I used DYLON fabric dye mixed with a little water and lightly brushed it onto an old lampshade to create a designer inspired look.

If you stick to simple stripes, small florals, checks, scallops or abstract brush strokes, this project is fairly forgiving. And remember, the charm is often in the imperfections.

Beyond the fun of it all, a custom lampshade is a clever way to echo the colours of spring throughout your home. It makes everything feel more cohesive without having to buy anything new.

My only advice would be to test your design on paper first before going straight onto the lampshade. I lightly sketched my design in pencil and then just went for it.

3. Add some candles

I know candles can feel like the most obvious home recommendation imaginable, but honestly, there is a reason we all keep coming back to them.

There is something about lighting a candle and then watching it effortlessly change the entire atmosphere of a room. Maybe it is the soft flicker of the flame, maybe it is the scent slowly wrapping the room in a cosy embrace, or maybe we have all collectively agreed that a candle somehow fixes everything. Either way, I stand by them completely.

My candle collection is admittedly slightly out of control at this point because they are such an easy decorative trick. Scatter them across shelves, style them on coffee tables, tuck them under glass cloches, or display them using your favourite candle stands. Even unlit, they somehow add a touch of grace without costing much.

When the budget’s tight, a candle feels just right.

4. Say yes to fresh flowers

The practical side of us often tries to label fresh flowers as an unnecessary luxury. I get it. They last a week if you are lucky, and somehow always manage to shed petals exactly where you have just vacuumed.

And yet, I still think they are worth it.

In fact, one of my 2026 resolutions is to buy myself flowers more often. Not only for special occasions. And even during my wallet recovery period.

Before anyone imagines extravagant florist bouquets wrapped in crisp paper, let me tell you, some of my favourite arrangements have come from the reduced section of my local Sainsbury’s. You can buy a few bunches of seasonal flowers for very little and still make them look incredibly charming with a bit of creative styling.

To me, a slightly wonky £3 bunch of tulips leaning dramatically to one side has far more appeal than those painfully polished hotel lobby arrangements.

Even the smallest bunch can completely change the mood of a room.

5. Scout for second-hand pottery

When I want the thrill of discovering something beautiful without the terrifying post purchase guilt, hunting for second-hand ceramics and pottery feels like a great compromise.

It is a brilliant way to source one-of-a-kind pieces that help you add flair to your space without needing a fat wallet.

I always find myself turning pieces over to check the bottoms for maker’s marks, stamps or handwritten signatures. Somehow, knowing the piece has a bit of history behind it always makes it more special.

The loveliest second-hand pieces are often the slightly unusual ones. If you fall in love with a piece and it has a tiny chip or imperfection, do not let it put you off. In my experience, most little marks can easily be touched up with a bit of paint. In fact, a tiny chip can often work in your favour because sellers are usually happy to offer a small discount.

Pottery, my dear reader, has this lovely ability to add texture and character and sometimes costs the smallest amount.

Hope you found these tips helpful and maybe even felt inspired to reshuffle a few things around the house.

How do you refresh your home without falling victim to the homeware aisles?

Home decorator Lara Winter is one of Ideal Home's Open House contributors, sharing her thoughts on revamping a 200 year old cottage to make it right for modern family life. See the rest of her articles here.

There are two types of people in a charity shop. The ones who walk past an old cabinet and think “absolutely not”. And the ones who squint at it slightly and think, “you could actually be quite nice, you know”. Unsurprisingly, I’m the second type.

I love filling our home with thrifted finds. Not just because it’s cheaper, but because it makes a home feel personal. The trick is learning to look past what something is now and see what it could become.

1. Try to picture it in your home

Charity shops can be visually overwhelming. Nothing looks appealing squeezed between twelve pine wardrobes and somebody’s abandoned treadmill.

I always try to mentally remove the piece from the chaos around it and picture it in our home instead. Sometimes I’ll even take photos of the room I’m shopping for before I go out, so I can compare colours and proportions. It has genuinely stopped me buying things that felt “quirky” in the shop but would’ve looked completely ridiculous once I got home.

Once I can picture something in the room, I stop focusing on the flaws and start seeing the potential instead.

2. Don’t panic about the finish

Some of my favourite furniture finds have looked awful when I first bought them. Orange varnish. Scratches. Very questionable shiny lacquer.

But I’ve learned not to panic, because underneath there’s often beautiful wood hiding away. Sanding and stripping furniture can completely transform it. Yes, there’s usually dust everywhere and a point halfway through where I regret all my life choices, but it’s always worth it in the end.

3. Sometimes you just need to paint it

Of course, sometimes stripping furniture reveals wood that really isn’t worth saving. That’s when paint becomes your best friend.

I actually think second-hand furniture is the perfect excuse to be brave with colour because it feels far less scary than painting something brand new and expensive. A coat of paint can completely change the feel of a piece. I’ve painted old dark cabinets in soft muted shades and suddenly they feel charming instead of heavy.

And honestly, if it cost £20, I’m much more relaxed about experimenting.

4. Fabric fixes almost everything

Fabric is one of my favourite ways to make thrifted pieces feel softer and more personal. Found a gorgeous lamp base but hate the shade? Recover it. Found a beautiful glass cabinet? Add little fabric curtains.

I’ve done simple no-sew cabinet curtains before and they instantly made the piece feel more relaxed and cottage-y. Even a small bit of fabric can completely change how something feels in a room.

5. Stop using things the “right” way

This is probably the biggest thing I’ve learned with thrifting: stop thinking so literally.

Some of my favourite things in our home are pieces being used completely differently than intended. A vintage drinks cabinet now lives on our kitchen counter for storage. Old baskets hang on the laundry room wall. Wooden ladders work brilliantly as towel rails. I’ve framed tea towels and scarves before, and even used leftover tiles as coasters.

Once you stop asking “what is this meant to be?” you start seeing possibilities everywhere. I think that’s why thrifted homes feel so special. They don’t feel copied or overly perfect – they feel collected, personal and full of real life.

Committed home renovators David and Andrew Harrison-Colley (better known on Instagram as The Home Boys) are part of Ideal Home's new Open House contributors, sharing their thoughts on making a home together and living through the tricky parts. See the rest of their articles here.

The single question we get asked more than any other on Instagram is some version of: “That’s really B&Q?”.

It is. Every base unit and door/drawer front of our kitchen came from B&Q’s GoodHome range. The whole thing came in at roughly £5,000 all in (excluding appliances) – which, when people imagine an in-frame style cottage kitchen with shaker doors, antique brass style handles, oak worktop and a quartz top on the island, tends to come as a surprise.

There’s no big secret to it. Just a handful of small decisions that, layered together, completely changed the finish. This is the first of two pieces on how we did it. Today: the perimeter units, the in-frame trick that makes the biggest visual difference, and the finishes that pulled it all together. Part 2 will cover the island we hand-built around our integrated fridge and freezer for under £300 (excluding the quartz worktop).

Why we went DIY (again)

We did the same thing in our Brixton flat – a budget IKEA kitchen we customised ourselves - and learned that you really can get the look of a much more expensive kitchen if you put the time in. So when it came to the cottage, we knew we wanted to repeat the trick.

Going DIY also gave us flexibility. Our layout changed once we started living in the space – the original symmetrical run-and-island plan didn’t work for how we use the space, so we added a left-hand return to make an L-shape. Because we’d built it ourselves, we just bought a few more cabinets and adapted.

Why GoodHome rather than a bespoke maker

B&Q’s GoodHome range sits in their mid-tier. Solid carcasses, decent soft-close hinges, and – importantly – a shaker door style that doesn’t scream flat-pack.

For the perimeter, we used GoodHome’s Ashmead Matt fronts in Pebble – a soft greige that reads warmer or cooler depending on the light. Straight off the shelf, no repainting required.

For the island (more on that in Part 2), we primed and repainted matching Ashmead doors and drawer fronts in Dulux Heritage Brushed Gold to tie them in with the beadboard cladding.

The in-frame trick (the bit that does the heavy lifting)

If you take one thing from this article, it’s this: the difference between a flat-pack kitchen that looks flat-pack and one that looks bespoke is almost entirely about the gaps.

On a standard fitted kitchen, the cabinet doors sit flush next to each other with a thin shadow gap between them. On a proper in-frame kitchen – the kind that costs five times as much – each door is set inside its own painted timber frame. That extra bit of frame around every door is what gives the kitchen its weight, its rhythm, its quietly handmade look.

You can fake it. We did. Between every cabinet on our perimeter run, we cut down lengths of matching plinth and fitted them vertically and horizontally around the cabinet frames as filler panels between the doors. Painted in the same colour as the cabinet fronts, they read instantly as in-frame detailing rather than what they actually are: a clever bit of plinth doing double duty.

It’s the single biggest visual upgrade we made and it cost almost nothing. A few extra metres of plinth, a mitre saw, and patience.

The finishes that pulled it all together

Once the cabinets are in and the in-frame illusion is in place, the finishes are what take a budget kitchen the rest of the way. We kept it simple.

• Paint. The perimeter cabinets came pre-finished in GoodHome’s Ashmead Matt Pebble – we didn’t paint those at all. The island doors and drawer fronts were primed and painted in Dulux Heritage Brushed Gold (a furniture paint, applied with a foam roller for that smooth factory finish). Three coats. Worth every minute.
• Handles. Antique finish brass cup handles on the drawers, antique brass knobs on the upper doors – both from B&Q. Mixing the two gave us a more collected, less showroom feel, like things had been chosen over time rather than ordered in a single click.
• Worktop. Solid unfinished oak from Express Worktop, sealed with several coats of Osmo Top-Oil. We chose it because it warms the whole room up in a way stone just doesn’t, and it ties beautifully into the timber beams overhead.
• Open shelves. Instead of more wall cabinets, we ran two long oak shelves on simple cast brackets. Cheaper than upper cupboards, and a place to display the vintage china and brass scales we’ve been collecting for years, and handy for all the daily essentials too.

What we’d say to anyone thinking about doing the same

• Order a few extra cabinets. Layouts change once you’re in the space. Having a couple of spares meant we could pivot to an L-shape and collect the additional cabinets within a few hours from our local store.
• Do a flatlay before you commit. We laid out a sample door, a paint swatch, the worktop offcut, the handles and our terracotta flooring on the floor and stared at it for days. Some combinations died at that stage, which saved us from making expensive mistakes.
• Mix your handle styles, not necessarily your finishes. One handle on every door is a quick way to make a kitchen look catalogue-ordered. We used cup handles on drawers and knobs on doors, both in the same antique brass finish, which softened the look without making it feel busy.
• Live with a temporary worktop. If your dream worktop is out of budget right now, fit a plywood placeholder painted in floor paint. It buys you months of usable kitchen while you wait for the right deal.
• Don’t skip the plinth trick. Genuinely. It’s the difference between flat-pack and bespoke and it costs less than a takeaway.

Standing in the kitchen now – ochre island, grey-green perimeter, terracotta floor running underneath the lot – it doesn’t look like a £5,000 kitchen. Which is the entire point.

In Part 2, we’ll walk you through how we built the island around an integrated fridge and freezer for under £300, including the beadboard cladding that ties it back to the rest of the cottage.

Screen printer Hannah Carvell is one of Ideal Home's new Open House contributors, sharing her thoughts on colourful home design for a creative family to live in. See the rest of her articles here.

I know I’m supposed to say something sensible here. Something balanced. Something along the lines of: “Neutrals are timeless, and colour is best used sparingly.” But the truth is, I’ve never been very good at restraint. I am, quite unapologetically, a colour person. Not just in my work as a screen printer, colour is quite literally my job but in the way I experience the world.

Colour is how I remember places, how I make sense of a room. It’s instinctive. Emotional. Almost physical. While I understand the appeal of a calm, neutral home, I also know this: I will always choose colour, because for me, colour isn’t decoration. It’s atmosphere.

In my studio, nothing starts neutral. Every print begins with a base layer normally my brightest or deepest colour first, and then another, and another, colours overlapping, shifting, reacting in ways I can’t always predict. That moment when two inks meet and create something entirely new? That’s the magic. And I think that’s why I struggle with neutral interiors. They feel… finished. Fixed. Whereas colour feels alive.

At home, I approach rooms in exactly the same way I approach a print. I don’t sit down with a master plan or a perfectly curated palette. I add, adjust, respond. A pink cushion here. A green jug there. A slightly questionable patterned sofa that probably shouldn’t work, but somehow does, the more colour in a room the more options you have.

It’s not about getting it “right.” It’s about letting things evolve. When I think about the homes I’ve loved most, they’ve never been the perfectly restrained ones. They’re the ones that feel layered, a bit chaotic, slightly unpredictable I always decorate (and print) with instant rather than a perfect plan, that instinct is something I’ve learned to trust more over time.

In my work, I don’t start with a perfectly mapped-out palette. I start with a feeling. A colour I can’t shake. And then I build from there adding, adjusting, sometimes ruining it completely before it comes back together again.

One of the biggest arguments for neutrals is that they create a sense of calm. And yes, they can. A soft beige room, light filtering through linen curtains, everything in its place it’s undeniably beautiful and for sure something I admire in other peoples homes or on holiday in a pretty hotel room. But calm doesn’t have to mean colourless.

For me, calm looks like a kitchen table covered in flowers I’ve grown myself. It’s the deep, muddy green of the garden bleeding into the house on muddy boots. It’s a shelf of mismatched ceramics in every shade imaginable, each one holding a memory.

There’s a kind of comfort in colour that neutrals can’t quite reach. It’s warmth. Familiarity. A sense that a home is being lived in, not just styled.

I sometimes think neutral homes are a bit like wearing a very good outfit to hide how you’re actually feeling. Polished. Controlled. Slightly guarded and no where to hide the mess, I feel like just as I could never wear white jeans as I literally wouldn’t be able to stay clean for more than 10 minutes, it must be the same in neutral home, the paw prints and craft projects would show me up.

Colour, on the other hand, draws the eye away. You can tell what someone loves by the colours they surround themselves with. The person who paints their walls deep blue probably isn’t afraid of a bit of drama. The one who fills their home with clashing prints and bold tones (hello) is likely embracing a certain level of chaos. And I think that’s why I’m drawn to it.

Colour feels honest to me. My home isn’t minimal. It isn’t restrained. It’s layered, slightly chaotic, constantly shifting and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Working with colour every day has taught me one important thing: it doesn’t always behave. What looks perfect on paper can feel completely different in real life. A shade you thought you loved can turn flat. Another you barely considered can suddenly sing when paired with something unexpected. And that unpredictability? That’s the point.

When I bring colour into my home, I’m not looking for perfection. I’m looking for that moment of surprise that little spark when something just works, even if I can’t quite explain why.

Neutrals, by their nature, are safer. More predictable. Less likely to clash. But they’re also less likely to delight you.

I think there’s a quiet pressure, especially now, with endless scrolling and perfectly styled homes to get things “right”. To choose the palette that won’t date. The sofa that will appeal to everyone. The walls that won’t offend and I have certainly fallen for this way of thinking in the past but those are not rooms I remember fondly from houses past.

A home isn’t supposed to appeal to everyone. It’s supposed to reflect you. And for me, that means colour. Lots of it. Not in a loud, shouty way (although sometimes, yes), but in a layered, evolving, deeply personal way. Colours collected over time. Colours that remind me of places, seasons, moments. Colours that make me feel something.

Do I get it wrong sometimes? Absolutely.

Will there be combinations that don’t quite land, shades that jar, moments where I think, what was I thinking? Of course.

A recent example was my Snug, we spent a weekend painting it pink, and by that evening I knew it wasn’t quite right. So back to the shops, a different shade chosen and now its perfect, still pink but a shade that contrasts perfectly with the colourful rug and furniture and art in the room. But I’d take that over playing it safe any day.

Because when colour works, when it really works it transforms a space in a way neutrals rarely can. It brings energy. Personality. Joy. I love how warm my snug feels when the sunshine hits the pink walls in the morning and how cosy it feels by night and ultimately, that’s what I want my home to feel like. Not perfect. Not polished but alive.

Content creator Lucy Kalice is one of Ideal Home's Open House contributors, sharing her thoughts on cleaning, home decor and making the most of small spaces. See the rest of her articles here.

The start of the best season is just around the corner and I couldn’t be happier. I am a summer girl through and through! The lighter mornings, the longer days and the warmer evenings – what’s not to love?

I find it a season filled with so many fun activities. There’s more social plans, more hosting opportunities and more importantly – holidays! And maybe I am a little biased because my birthday is in July but let’s ignore that little detail for now…

That’s not to say I don’t appreciate the other seasons, I’ve said before how I think all seasons should be celebrated and reflected within the home. In autumn we have Halloween and everyone starts to bring out the cosy cushions, the plush blankets and drinking hot chocolates. In winter we have Christmas where we transform our homes into sparkling winter wonderlands. Spring brings us Easter and this is when the home decorations start to get a bit more colourful. Then finally in summer that’s when the garden furniture comes out and it’s a bbq every other weekend…dreamy.

And there’s some things we do to transition our home from spring to summer, which sounds extra but I promise you it’s not. It’s just little tweaks and touches around the home to represent the season we are in. It doesn’t have to be expensive or bougie but hopefully the below will give you some inspiration for preparing for summer and summer-fying you’re home. So let’s get into it…

1. I add colour to my tablescapes

Our kitchen is the hub of the home, as I’m sure it is for most of you too. It’s where we spend most of our time so it’s important to me that it gives off the right vibe at the right time. So I’m switching my dark green place mats for our pink and red placemats to add a pop of bright colour.

I also love decorating the table with a colourful vase and adding some seasonal flowers like some gorgeous hydrangeas. These simple swaps to the dining table brighten the whole kitchen!

2. I switch my duvet for a lower tog

Ok this one has nothing to do with aesthetics, but everything to do with comfort…comfort is key after all. We have two duvets, our summer duvet and our winter duvet.

Our winter duvet is a high tog of 13.5, it’s like sleeping underneath a cloud and it’s just absolutely perfect…for winter. Sleeping with that in summer when the temperate is warmer is a form of torture.

There’s nothing worse than having a bad nights sleep because you were too hot! So to help you get the perfect night sleep you need a lower tog duvet which is usually 2.5-4.5 tog. This is a non-negotiable for us in summer!

3. Quirky tableware

My favourite thing to buy at the moment is colourful and quirky bowls, plates and mugs. I’m over the plain white set we currently have, that was so winter 2025.

I’ve started to build up a small amount of colourful tableware and it makes me so happy whenever I use it. Breakfast on my pastel pink flower Le Creuset plate? Yes please! Aesthetic 10/10, Vibe 10/10, Mood 10000/10.

It’s the little things that really brighten your mood and your home.

4. I open up the house to the outdoors

Living in the UK means we can have some temperamental weather in the summer, so when it’s good it’s important to make the most of it. And what I mean by that is opening the doors and the windows!

Aerating your home is so important all year round as it improves air quality. But in the winter when the weather is cold I think we can all agree it’s not very tempting. So in the summer we like to have our bifold doors and windows open as much as possible to make the most of it!

5. I switch up my scents

As much as I love my cookie dough, apple pie and pumpkin spiced scented candles, they do not scream summer. They get put away and I bring out the summer scented candles and reed diffusers. We’re talking lemon and grapefruit, fig & citronella, lavender.

I find this is such an easy to bring summer into your home and it doesn’t have to break the bank.

Small changes really can make a big difference – what will you try?

Interior designer Natalie Jahangiry is one of Ideal Home's new Open House contributors, sharing her thoughts on decorating a home to suit a busy family life while sticking to your aesthetic values, too. See the rest of her articles here.

Have you ever watched Sort Your Life Out with Stacey Solomon? Because that is exactly how I felt when the entire contents of my kitchen/dining/ kids’ play area were suddenly laid out in front of me as I unpacked what felt like hundreds of boxes from pre-renovation life.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I am, by nature, a very organised person. Back when I lived alone in my first flat, friends used to come over and laugh at my strict “everything has a place” system, labels on everything, of course. Oh, how times have changed. Kids will do that to you.

And while I wouldn’t change it for the world, I still crave that sense of order, especially when I have three people constantly asking, “Where is this?”... yes Tom, that’s you included!

The thing is, I had decluttered before the renovation. But what I’d conveniently forgotten was:

• Every single millimetre of the old kitchen had been packed like a game of Tetris
• I love stuff… especially kitchen trinkets. Glassware, dinnerware, candles, cocktail bits, hosting pieces, you name it, I probably own it (and want it on display)
• There was also a whole extra stash of “bits” living in the garden office
• This time around, I actually want to find things easily. No more dodging a waterfall of chopping boards just to get to the blender!
• And let’s not forget the chaos of kids toys, crafts, makeup, and endless paper creations thrown into the mix

Even though we’ve doubled our storage and built in a dedicated kids area, I knew I needed help… and not from the hubby this time. So I called in reinforcements… hello Dunelm.

After putting out a cry for help to create a Dilly Carter level transformation, the amazing Charlotte from the Dunelm team came through with a dream setup of organisers, boxes, dividers, jars, drawer inserts. Honestly, it felt like Christmas had come early!

For me, having a kitchen that looks beautiful on the outside isn’t enough, I want it to feel just as satisfying on the inside too. And let’s not forget the new arched pantry… she needed a little TLC as well.

Label maker at the ready… let's get stuck in.

My favourite kitchen organising pieces

Inspired by my vision of an American style dream pantry, here’s what I have found has sorted my life out in my new kitchen/dining space.

And just like that, what once felt like total chaos now feels calm, considered, and (dare I say it) actually enjoyable to use every single day. It’s proof that with the right systems in place, a busy family kitchen really can look beautiful and work beautifully too.

Now when someone asks, “Where is it?”… there’s a very good chance I actually know the answer. And honestly? That feels like a total win.

Interior designer and content creator Rebecca Constable is one of Ideal Home's new Open House contributors, sharing her thoughts on demystifying the process of designing and decorating a home, and helping people work out where to spend and where to save.

Following the buzz and excitement of the RHS Chelsea Flower Show, the annual horticultural extravaganza, I always come away filled with ideas and ambitious plans for my own garden, only to return home and realise that I don’t possess the skill or patience of the talented horticulturalists who create these beautiful spaces.

Over the years, I’ve therefore found myself looking for planting solutions that are more befitting of my skill and ability, whilst still creating a garden that feels beautiful and abundant, to both us and the pollinators.

And so this year in my garden I am really trying to focus on less plants but with more impact. With that in mind I have managed to find three plants that give me an immense amount of pleasure, repeat flowering all summer, whilst requiring very little input from me, which is probably what most of us are looking for. Personally I think you could make a very sweet garden using just these three plants, plus a few shrubs and some evergreen structure for the winter months.

They are all perennial so they come back each year, dying back in the winter and coming up again in spring, often bigger and better than the year before. And once they get to a certain size I can easily divide them and replant them elsewhere in my garden or give them to neighbours and friends. After all, who doesn’t love free plants?

Erigeron karvinskianus (Mexican fleabane)

The first plant is Erigeron karvinskianus, also known as Mexican fleabane. This daisy-like plant seems happy growing pretty much anywhere, even in between the cracks in the pavement, which makes it ideal if you haven’t got brilliant soil. I live in London so we’ve got quite a bit of clay and if I'm honest I haven’t really got the patience to improve it.

What I love most about Erigeron is that it forms these lovely mounds of daisies and easily spreads, but in a charming way (rather than an invasive one). The flowers are a mixture of white and pink which I think feels playful and fun, and so it looks equally good in a cottage style garden as well as a city courtyard.

The pollinators absolutely love it and I have found mine flowering all the way from April to October so you can’t really ask for more. I’ve planted it along the edge of my borders so it spills over onto the path and I’ve also used it to underplant an olive tree which is in a large pot.

Geranium Rozanne

The second plant is Geranium Rozanne, a perennial that forms lovely big green domes dotted with violet-blue flowers. This is possibly one of my all time favourite plants as I love the combination of the green foliage against the rich purple blooms.

I have found it to be pretty much impossible to kill and each year it comes back even bigger and more abundant. I use Geranium Rozanne to fill any gaps in my borders and like the Erigeron, it looks beautiful when it spills out onto the path.

Again, this will flower from late spring to autumn with a continuous cycle of blooms providing wonderful colour with very little effort required. I’ve planted this on the sunny and shady sides of my garden and so far both are doing very well.

Alchemilla mollis (Lady's mantle)

Finally I have been increasingly drawn to Alchemilla mollis, also known as Lady's mantle. It’s one of those plants that I see often in gardens but didn’t know what it was until a few years ago. I like it because it’s not your traditional flowering plant. It has these greeny-yellow sprays of flowers that appear out of the mid green foliage, creating a very striking, almost neon colour combination.

I love that in the morning when the plant is covered in dew, it looks like it's got drops of silver on it due to its repellant leaves. It feels quite magical. Again what also draws me to this plant is how easily it thrives, the way it flowers over many months and the fact that it spreads. For some, its tendency to spread might be a drawback but I just love the idea of it finding new places to settle in the garden. And like I said before, who doesn’t love free plants?

My plan this summer is to simplify the garden by mainly relying on these three plants. I’ll be removing anything that isn’t thriving and replacing it with one of these reliable performers. Between them, their different flowers and foliage provide enough variety for me. And their easy going nature seems to match my gardening capacity at this point in my life.