My worst interiors mistakes – from £30 fake art to Banana Dream Yellow

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.

Last year, I visited the Hockney 25 exhibition in Paris. I’ve utterly adored Hockney since I was young, and seeing such an extraordinary curation of his pieces was a pure Everything experience – I was completely transported and captivated.

Until I walked into one room and started laughing out loud.

The reason? I was looking at the full-sized beauty that is The Arrival of Spring in Woldate, East Yorkshire in 2011. The same piece that, in my frantic haste to style and complete the first apartment, I’d ordered a replica canvas of from eBay.

At the time, I didn’t know much about how to select art meaningfully. I went for what felt like a simple, obvious solution – essentially replicating pieces I already loved. So I sourced this huge, printed canvas…and when it turned up, it was absolutely appalling. Beyond appalling. I sent it straight back.

It made me laugh because thinking I could just order a great big canvas for £30 and expect it to look the part, and not incredibly cheap, is kind of wild. It’s like having a really obvious fake on your wall: either you know, and don’t care about the quality. Or you don’t know, which is even worse!

I’ve hopefully come a long way since then, but it made me reflect on my other big mistakes over the years, and what I’ve learnt as my style and approach to renovating, decorating and styling has evolved.

As I always say, if sharing my disasters helps even one person avoid the same mistake, it’s worthwhile. So, gird your loins and settle in as I open my Pandora’s box of dodgy decisions and murky mishaps. Helpfully, they all fall into four themes. They’re personal and many speak to the often questionable wonders of my ADHD, but there’s universality here too.

1. Try new skills but know when to stay in your lane

When my ADHD comes out to play, focussing on DIY tasks is a challenge. My modus operandi tends to involve butterflying around – doing a bit of something in one place, then fluttering on somewhere else.

Unfortunately, decorating requires a more methodical approach. Jumping from one wall to a window frame does not, it turns out, lead to a great finish. I also get easily bored or distracted, walk away, then come back and use eggshell instead of matte. Patchy is putting it politely.

The recent decorating I did is all going to need redoing; a time-consuming and expensive mistake. After many such disasters, I’ve finally learned my lesson and now leave painting well alone.

I will always be up for trying new tasks, because I don't always know what I’ll connect with and might surprise myself. Equally, I know I can’t expect to be an expert in something immediately. But after fleeing the scene (paint brushes left uncleaned, of course) of my MANY dodgy paint jobs, I am very clear that I need to stay in my lane when something is beyond my skill set. Ignore the “I should be able to do this” trap and be sensible instead.

Moving on, my early forays into experimenting with colour are… legendary. I wasn’t very good, to put it mildly. I could see a colour in my head or moodboard but translating that onto a paint chart was another matter entirely.

I once wanted to paint a room a beautiful deep mustard and somehow ended up in B&Q buying tins of paint called Banana Dream. I kid you not. Needless to say, after two coats, it did not resemble the image on my mood board. A mega fail, but a brilliant lesson to educate myself about colour. Choosing colours based on imagination alone is not a good idea. Colour is complex and depends on light orientation, room size, mood and what you’re trying to achieve.

So now I use the experts. Paint brands offer brilliant guidance, and there are fantastic professionals you can hire. Also, ALWAYS test at scale – wallpaper-sized samples are non negotiable. Colour needs context, not guesswork. That’s a skill I’ve kept developing, and I’ve got a much better grip on it now. Lesson learnt.

2. Take care in planning, measuring and budgeting

These are fundamental to any project, especially renovations – and also potential danger areas where my ADHD can go a bit maverick if left unchecked.

First up: planning. I have a long-standing talent for catastrophically under-estimating how long things take. Moving house is a particular Achilles heel, which has seen me wreak havoc on more than one occasion. At my worst, I’ve booked multiple tasks into one day, often timed to the minute. A wildly unrealistic approach, causing chaos, frustration and stress for everyone involved.

For many people this might not be so much of an issue, but I imagine other people with ADHD might relate.

Now I do a proper reality check: walking through each stage, simplifying, thinking about what it really entails and how long it will realistically take. Then I double it.

Budgeting needs the same discipline. A room by room, line by line by line walk through is mandatory. I have, in the past, missed a rather toppy flooring cost, which was a delightful surprise mid-project.

The lesson? Whatever I think it’s going to take – time or money – double it. Especially for renovations. Especially for me.

Measuring is another biggie. We all know that niggling low-level panic when something needs to be millimetre perfect. In the first renovation, I added a cased opening between the hallway and living room. Unfortunately, I hadn’t spent enough time understanding the space properly from all angles and I over-extended it, opening the room straight onto the drafty front door.

A beautiful room suddenly felt very cold and exposed. A new stud wall was needed to correct it. A fixable, but somewhat costly error. Blinds and curtains are particularly terrifying. I now measure obsessively – the day before, then at least three more times, and a final time before pressing send.

Thankfully, this new discipline seems to have stuck. Measure twice, cut once – or in my case, measure fifteen times and cut once.

Even so, checking whether new blinds fit is still nerve-wracking. Perhaps that fear never fully goes away – the Universe’s way of making sure I don’t mess up again?

3. Buy with intention and consideration

Impulse buying in haste, trying to clear a huge sourcing list, is a frequent nemesis.

I once tried to recreate a mood board image of eclectic dining table chairs and did an eBay haul of random cheap chairs – mixing antique, replicas and brand new. I thought I’d been really clever, but when I put them together, they looked shocking. If they’d been properly considered, it might have worked. As it stands, they’re all still sitting in storage.

Designs like that need time. Figure out the design red thread – how pieces differ yet still belong together. I don’t think I did that properly, if at all. I probably should have steered well clear.

That said, experimenting is fun and part of developing our style literacy. The culprit here was overwhelm and decision fatigue, leading to my trying to “fill” space rather than curate it. It was a lesson in stepping back and thinking more clearly about what I’m trying to achieve and how.

Price and quality is another big one. Buy cheap, buy twice is my general rule of thumb. Cheap is usually cheap for a reason. Of course, there are exceptions. Budgets are not unlimited, and sometimes a cost-effective option is the only one. And there’s nothing more satisfying than a genuinely good bargain!

There are, however, red flags and categories I’ve learnt to steer clear of. The Hockney canvas print is a perfect example; 2m x 1m for £30!

I don’t know what I was expecting, or why I was surprised when it was horrific. I have legions of other experiences like this – I’m sure we all do. Now, I prioritise quality that will last. I question where I’m buying from and what an amazing price is telling me. If something seems too good to be true – especially online – there’s usually a reason why. Always consider how it will sit in your home BEFORE you order or ensure there’s a solid return policy.

One of the best lessons has been discovering independent makers. With a little research, bespoke pieces can be surprisingly cost-effective – often only a bit more expensive than mass-produced options but made to last forever.

You can find more on my sourcing tips here and here.

4. Learning to design for me

The idea of Everything was born during our first project in 2020, when I realised I had no real sense about my taste in interiors. Looking back at those early mood boards, you can clearly see that. They were a bit random and very trend-heavy. I was using editorials and instagram as cut and paste style guides.

There was a gorgeous House of Hackney wallpaper trending at the time, and I initially designed the living room around it. I’d seen it in so many cool places, it felt like a guarantee of taste. In hindsight, that’s interesting, because I’m not a maximalist. But it felt safe when I didn’t have enough confidence or experience in my own taste to feel I could make decisions myself.

And that’s absolutely fine. If you’re starting out, this can be a good place to start. But along the way, something wasn’t clicking – it just wasn’t me.

The lesson? Our home should feel unique to us - individual and personal - not a pastiche to trend. I want people to walk in and say “Wow, where did you get that from?” not, “Oh, you’ve got that wallpaper”.

Trends are great for styling, but for me, longevity is key. Sustainability and budget matter too. Once a room is done, I don’t want to think about it again for at least five years. Designing around a much-loved piece that made me feel Everything became my shortcut – both to understanding my taste and creating spaces that last.

Now, if I’ve seen a colour, print or piece everywhere, I try to steer clear or put a personal spin on it, so it feels different. I go to independents, eBay, Facebook Marketplace, etsy and antique shops wherever possible. I also LOVE a sale. Digging for overlooked pieces is a brilliant source of lesser seen items at brilliant prices.

Finding joy in the process

As renovation two very slowly drags towards completion, these are the big lessons I’ve tucked into my toolbelt. Of course, they’re personal and many speak to my ADHD, but in chatting with my lovely community, it appears many of us share the same pesky pitfalls.
This is your reminder that behind every Insta-perfect home, there are a lot of very dodgy parts of the process that stay behind closed doors. None of us are born knowing all this stuff. It takes time and experimentation to get it wrong before you can get it right.

The big thing to remember? Mistakes aren’t failures – they’re how we build knowledge and confidence. All the old cliches apply: live it, learn it. We don’t know what we don’t know. Offload what you’re bad at. Trade skills with people around you. Know when to call in the experts.

Finding joy in all this comes simply from understanding what we like, what we don’t and what we’re good at – whether that’s the satisfaction of nailing something, or being swept away with contentment when you sink down on your sofa.

Use your Everything feeling to listen to your intuition and sense-check that you are on the right lines to creating your dream and avoiding a nightmare. If something clicks, trust it. If it doesn’t, press pause.

That might be the most important lesson of all.