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.
So, firstly, let me caveat this by saying I adore period properties.
I have so much respect for their majestic fascias, generous proportions - from ceiling heights to windows - and uniquely ornate features. I’m in awe of the craft, consideration and expertise of the design and construction, not to mention the historical significance.
So knowing this, you might ask…why did I remove an original Grade I Carrara marble fireplace from a bedroom, to add walk-in wardrobes?
The eternal search for Everything
Let me take you back to the concept of Everything - that deep sense of joy, contentment, and connection to our spaces. My ADHD and anxiety mean I can’t feel Everything if I’m living in chaos. I need organisation. I need flow. I need structure.
Our old apartment was beautiful and had a lot of space. Just in all the wrong places, which didn’t suit how we lived.
Clothing and shoe storage was a big issue. Our bedroom was huge with two big wardrobes, but the internal configuration was wrong, so we couldn’t store what we needed, or find anything easily.
Every day involved stressed, frantic pulling of clothes onto the floor or the bed; the whole room was frequently chaotic - and that energy was contagious.
We needed effective space that worked for us, not against us.
Finding the New Apartment
The possibility of moving first surfaced early 2023; we had niggling doubts the apartment wasn’t quite right, but equally wanted stability - the first renovation had been stressful enough.
The thought nestled at the back of our minds, and we let it be.
Until, by random chance, we walked into the new apartment and fell in love on the spot.
Ground-floor, one-bedroom, huge rooms with wonderful proportions and beautiful bay windows looking onto trees outside. Incredible original features, although somewhat crumbling and in need of restoration.
It had a glorious Grade I Carrara marble fireplace in the bedroom, albeit painted with seventeen coats of godforsaken orange gloss. The living room had a horrendous wooden replica.
It also had a separate storeroom leading directly onto a big square garden, surrounded by trees.
There was clear opportunity to create a connecting extension with a kitchen-diner and separate office for me. Then opening onto the garden, a summer house comprising a guest room en-suite, another office and a gym.
For all the positives, there were also a lot of negatives. It was a wreck: open floorboards with no soundproofing, crumbling walls and needing a full electrical rewire and new plumbing.
Present day: the extension is nearly complete, and the main interior of the apartment is also pretty much done. Overall, my community has loved what I’ve done.
With one exception. The bedroom really split opinion, and many people took strong and noisy objection. To be fair, I do understand why…
Reconfiguring the bedroom
The layout of the apartment is a little strange, as is often the way with converted period properties.
The entry hallway ran from back of the house through to the front, with a door onto a small vestibule, with more doors into the kitchen and bedroom. There were a LOT of doors. I didn’t have a clue what to do with it at first.
The bedroom itself was huge. Given the main objective was storage, we spent a lot of time exploring different options to make the space work.
We debated using the bathroom space as both a walk-in wardrobe and spare bedroom, which would have been by far the smartest commercial choice.
Yet, that room was filled with light and perfect for a very special spa-like bathroom, with a wish-list item - a bath.
The scary decision
In the end, we decided to split the bedroom by building a ⅔ height, part-width dividing wall to provide spatial separation, whilst still allowing light and easy flow of movement. In essence, creating a minimal bedroom and walk-in wardrobes flowing straight into the vestibule.
However, and here comes the rub… the new wall needed to intersect the chimney breast, so the beautiful original Grade 1 Carrara marble original fireplace had to be removed.
We had no plans for an open fire in the bedroom. However, we did want one in the living room, which was blighted with an awful replica.
The solution was clear: remove and restore it to the living room. A bit risky to say the least.
Praise the marble gods, the fireplace came out intact in three solid pieces. It was restored to perfect condition and pride of place in the living room. Celebrated and enjoyed, as was intended. Not smothered in horrid paint.
There’s no getting around it; adding the wall did reduce the impact of the glorious proportions and light of the bedroom.
I had many sleepless nights agonising over it and was still very torn, even when the building started. But, we moved for proper storage, so there was no turning back.
To integrate the dividing wall, we raised the height of the picture rail to connect the new and old walls, so the original proportions still felt true.
We also flowed the same colours throughout both spaces; Paint and Paper Library Mink for above the picture rail and ceiling (really showcasing the stunning coving) and Powder V for the walls and wardrobes.
It works. No regrets. That’s all.
Completing the primary suite layout
The other factor to unlocking the space was removing both the bedroom and bathroom doors, leaving only the main door in the vestibule that led into the hallway.
Now, I know that to many, the idea of no door on the bathroom may be utterly horrifying. However the distance between the rooms is generous, and we both felt it allowed for enough privacy.
Doing this created a seamless flow through the small vestibule area, in essence, creating the primary suite we had dreamed of:
The bedroom; simple, streamlined and serene. A king size bed, with bedside wall lights and tables, looking onto the park opposite, framed by the beautiful bay window.
The walk-in wardrobes; wide enough for two people, with a seat, hooks for styling and steaming, open hanging storage, shelving and multiple drawers.
A vanity area; a small dressing table and seat, sensor-operated LED mirror and storage for toiletries.
A primary bathroom; with bath, wet-room shower and built in vanity with more storage.
Things to consider if you’re thinking about doing something similar
- Layout: Space planning is everything - the tools on Reno are essential here. Some basic guardrails; be practical and think realistically about your day-to-day routine and what you need. Ensure enough clearance around your bed, generous walkways, wardrobe depth and space to open drawers and doors comfortably. If you can stand in the space and physically map it out with big pieces of cardboard on the floor, even better
- Joinery: Find a brilliant joiner and plan your design carefully. Both the configuration and the style are essential. We debated cabinetry, but I was wary of it being a pastiche; it needed to feel contemporary, yet sympathetic to the period features. Consider the rest of your home too - now and for the future. Our aim is cohesion, so all the joinery is consistent in style in conversation together, from the wardrobes to the vanity area and the living room.
- Light: Creating the partition inevitably reduced light in the wardrobes - and light is everything when you’re trying to decipher navy from black. We solved this with dimmable ceiling spotlights and internal motion-sensor LED strips. It’s practical, flattering and makes 6am outfit selection easy.
- Mirrors, mirrors and more mirrors: The open layout really lent itself to this trick - mirrors bounce light around, make spaces feel bigger and help everything flow visually. Also, a two-person walk-in wardrobe with only one mirror has got trouble written all over it.
- Cohesion: To tie everything together, I went back to my interior design 101 essentials: Complimentary colour planning for flow through the whole primary suite, using Paint & Paper Library which offers a wonderful variety of tones. Our go-to Flooring Superstore Cambridge Bavarian Chevron engineered wood flooring throughout the whole apartment for structured warmth and rhythm. My favourite Corston Architectural for all hardware, lighting, and switches throughout - impeccable quality, subtly contemporary, stylishly respectful of the building’s period bones.
The lesson (and the backlash)
I’ve had a lot of unpleasant and unnecessarily personal comments on this one - such is the risk when you put your home out there. I mostly respond with a thumbs up.
One of the main criticisms was altering a period property to allow for clothes storage and the accusation I was a shallow, image obsessed, consumer of Too Much Stuff.
That one burnt. I don’t buy fast fashion; in fact, I rarely buy clothing at all these days. If I do, it’s Vestiaire Collective, Vinted or a BCorps brand.
This wasn’t about consumerism - it was about creating space to care for and celebrate what I’ve spent years collecting, whilst enabling me to live my life in a calm and orderly way.
Because ultimately, if Everything is about feeling inspired, grounded and connected to your space, you can’t do that in chaos. Especially with ADHD. That’s my experience.
Now, the wardrobes and the whole primary suite feel like a serene sanctuary - because it’s a natural journey for my daily routine, I can find everything easily and there isn’t stuff scattered everywhere.
Interestingly, my perfect Sunday now involves folding my underwear into storage compartments. I don’t recognise this person, but she seems a lot less stressed, so I am very much into it.
And, in the end, the positive public reaction to the wardrobes far outweighed the negative. It’s clear many of us are on the same page that you simply can’t have good design without good storage.
Since the original post, over 100 people have asked for the dimensions to see if they can do it in their own homes.
So, down with the haters, but for everyone who asked, I’d love to hear how your own plans are coming along…
