Prising open the encrusted paint lid, I get my wooden stirrer (one tip already covered in dry paint from a previous project) and carefully submerge it, all the way to the bottom of the tin where I can feel a thick layer of sediment. In steady slow circular motions the chalk, china clay, titanium dioxide and pigments come together once more turning through the tones of grey to resemble one of the fifty shades with which I have painted our house. I delicately pour it like double cream onto a pudding into my painters tray and carefully climb the step ladder.
What makes a house into a home? Or more accurately what makes a house into an Instagrammable home, because that’s all that matters these days. Right? For me, it starts with the details. I don’t mean the obvious things, like artwork, textiles, ceramics, (although of course I love spending time finding the right finishing touches). But I’m talking about one layer down from that, the things that are designed to have function, but which can still be aesthetically pleasing in their own right. The things that perhaps weren’t originally intended to be noticed; handles, knobs, doorplates, keyhole covers, locks. They can tie the rooms together, …