What makes a house a home?
Other than stacks of books, flowers and cushions (my essentials/weaknesses). Tackling the question with the help of some brilliant books and expert friends.
I find myself preoccupied with matters of the home late. Partly because we spend more in than out as autumn sets in, which makes me cast a critical eye about my house and see the many, many things which require attention. And partly because I’ve recently gorged two brilliant interiors books Home Matters by
and An English Vision from interiors god Ben Pentreath.So my friends, today I have a wonderfully fulsome post on the subject of what makes a home. I say this with confidence rather than arrogance as alongside the book chat, it features excellent contributions and genius insider tips (there are some excellent shopping suggestions) from two of my Substack favourites,
and - along with stylist and journalist Nicole Gray. Plus dolls’ houses and Jane Austen. I’ve had a lovely time putting it all together. I have asked nosy questions and I was fascinated to see the intersection between the experts’ thoughts on what makes a home. Spoiler: perfection leaves them cold.Housekeeping notes (how apt!): Your email may show only some of this post, so click through to read online, or in the Substack app. It’s a lovely long post thanks to my gorgeous contributors, so I highly recommend reading with a hot beverage and your feet on the radiator. A prime position, in my view.
If you are not already a subscriber - hello! You can sign up for regular nuggets of book-related joy here. Or if your cup overflowth, you can upgrade to a paid subscription and support my writing and be elevated to my list of favourites!
I have always been fascinated by houses. Helen Clare’s charming, witty Five Dolls in a House was one of my favourite childhood books, and Rumer Godden’s Tottie: The Story of a Dolls’ House enchanted and haunted me in equal measure. (An adorable family of dolls are elevated from shoebox to splendid house, only for their happiness to be shattered the arrival of Marchpane - a beautiful, villainous ice queen. It was adapted for television in 1984 - but do brace your heart before watching for it is beautifully bittersweet.)
My own childhood dolls’ house has recently taken up residence in my adult home. It had been languishing in the loft of my parents’ house, and I was up there, ferreting around for something or other and being willingly distracted by boxes of childhood books, when I saw it in a corner, swathed in plastic sheeting. A window or two was missing, and it was rather grubby around the edges, but it was largely intact.
A month or so later, my Dad arrived at my house, triumphantly bearing the dolls’ house, which he had restored to its former glory with his habitual DIY magic. It now lives on the landing on the top floor. “It’s a bit like our house,” said my son, when he first saw it. This is stretching it somewhat. Our house is not blue, for starters. But it is tall and it does look rather formal from the outside - but is more higgledy piggledy on the inside, and distinctly less orderly. It also takes considerably longer to redecorate.
As I unpacked the boxes of dolls’ house furniture, I noted the absence of both stove (how did I think the poor dolls would eat?!) and men. It’s a household of creative women: a very Bloomsbury-meets-Jane Austen set-up. Have you noticed how often Austen depicts houses dominated by women? Once they remove to Barton Cottage, the household in Sense and Sensibility is entirely female; in Pride and Prejudice Mr Bennet hides in his study as the parsonage is over-run by daughters and Mrs B’s “nerves”. And Austen heroines are frequently preoccupied with the idea of home. Fanny Price and Anne Elliot are pained by loss of theirs - poor Fanny suffers the agony of going home to somewhere which no longer warrants the word. The Bennet sisters live under the shadow of knowing their childhood home is only on loan until the death of their father, when the odiously oleaginous Mr Collins inherits. The Dashwood sisters are summarily ejected from their beloved home by their pathetically weak-willed brother. “Dear, dear Norland!” laments Marianne, “when shall I cease to regret you!—when learn to feel a home elsewhere!”
Little wonder. After her happy childhood in Hampshire, Austen had no fixed abode for several years. Instead, she was shunted hither and thither. The Austens removed to Bath for Jane’s father’s health, but after his death, the women (Mrs Austen, Jane and her sister Cassandra, and their friend Martha Lloyd) found themselves in financially straitened circumstances. They were forced into less salubrious lodgings, before moving to Southampton to lodge with sea-faring brother Frank. It was all very temporary and unsatisfactory and Jane stopped writing altogether as she languished in a state of domestic abeyance. Another Austen brother, Edward, came to the rescue. Fortunate Edward had adopted by the Knights, a wealthy, childless couple, and was heir to Godmersham Park in Kent, and Chawton House and Manor Farm in Hampshire. He offered his sisters a home in a cottage in Chawton. “Our Chawton home, how much we find already in it to our mind,” Jane wrote to him, ecstatically. She started writing again in earnest, relieved of the household duties by Cassandra and Martha. ‘Composition seems to me impossible with my head full of joints of mutton and doses of rhubarb.’ It’s funny when critics loftily comment that Austen’s novels are of ‘the domestic sphere’ - when in fact her domestic role was unusually peripheral. Let this be comfort when you feel you have underachieved because you were distracted by the business of domestic life.
I fervently recommend a trip to Jane Austen’s house in Chawton. It is cosy and homely - the kitchen left as though Martha has just popped out to the garden for some lovage, Jane’s small writing table awaiting her next chapter, a table laid for tea in front of the fire.
It’s a gentle reflection on the how our homes shelter us and how they make us feel. How our past homes are reflected in our present one and the objects we choose to keep; how they are evolve to suit the people who inhabit them. What makes a home feel ‘right’ and the type of place which welcomes you in, embraces you? Penny takes us back to her childhood home in Melbourne, and into the homes of others. None are perfect or styled (Penny is the kind of photographer who likes to leave cupboard doors ajar), but they are all just right. She invites us to look at - and think about - our homes differently. “Homes tell stories. A home is the culmination of those who create them, where a person’s history and present blur together.” It is an intimate, lovely book.
One person who truly understands what it is to make a home is Ben Pentreath. The man is a master of classical architecture, co-owner of Pentreath & Hall and an interiors genius. He has made classical and traditional cool again. His interiors breathe and live - you half expect a child to run through the picture or a dog to pad in and flop down by the fire. His new book, An English Vision is a visual feast. I want to step into every room.
The book ranges across some beautiful homes - both classical and grand. Of course, they are all beautiful, but my favourites are the cosier homes - the ones I could imagine living in. (Much as I like a stately pile, reality does rather bite.) The rooms are comfortingly full. The walls full of pictures, with others casually propped. Books stacked in piles on ottomans, or lying akimbo on shelves. There are vases of dahlias and terracotta pots of pelargoniums. Sofas stuffed with just the right amount of cushions - not carefully plumped, but dented as though someone has just got up to make a cup of tea. There are copper pans hung on hooks by the cooker, and children’s art on the mantel. Stacks of old magazine and blue willow china. A silver tray of bottles in lieu of a cocktail trolley. Pentreath describes a room in his own home as “cluttered, supremely relaxed and full of sunshine.” It sounds perfect.
Reading these books made me realise that I need to worry less about things being just-so (but it does help if they have a designated place), and more about ensuring the things we love are seen and our home feels loved and lived-in, ripe for lolling on a Sunday after football, or for sitting around the kitchen table doing homework. And ‘stuff’ is fine - my daughter tells me that even young folk are embracing intentional clutter. If you like the sound of this - then English Country Home Style may be the book for you. I have
to thank for bringing this my attention - she is a gorgeous writer (she writes as she is - a lovely thing) and I often gift her book to nascent gardeners.In search of some home truths (pun very much intended), I turned to three of my favourite interiors gurus. I found their advice heartening and inspiring…
writes Home + Hort - which is the kind of Substack where home, garden, heart and humour collide. And a very gorgeous place it is, too. JP is a hugely generous host, who shares his considerable knowledge and skill in a manner which inspires you to think that you might actually be able to give this a go. I first followed JP on Instagram @jpslifesandloves and watched agog as he transformed an ordinary house into a clapboard New England beauty, before transforming his big semi (have I mentioned how funny he is?) into the most incredible home. He’s now renovating what might just be his dream home - a barn nestled in pretty village in the Sussex countryside. He also (q: when does the man sleep?) runs The Harbour Deck House - a house on stilts overlooking Emsworth Harbour. It is one of my life goals to stay there!
JP’s new home - looking incredible already. His style makes me think of Hamptons by way of India Hicks with a dash of Ralph Lauren. There is seaside, sunshine and a hefty dose of impressive DIY. Image credit: JP Clark
Describe your decor style in three words.
Just three? Oh Lordy! Coastal. Vintage. Timeless.
Although, the last one sounds big headed and I don’t mean it to. I don’t tend to follow trends, so nothing I use really goes out of style. If I had a fourth word it would be seasonal. Someone once said they described my style as Hamptons Chic.
What makes a house feel like a home?
A life-long collection of objects, art, ornaments, trinkets, mementos and photographs: the things that communicate who lives there. So very often now, particularly on Instagram, everything seems to be brand new in people’s homes. You’d be hard pushed to know who’s home it was. Lamps everywhere, as many as possible and at varying heights.
Nature in all its forms from houseplants, vases of flowers, sheepskins and wooden furniture to the more obscure, such as antique coral, sea fans, dried old bird’s nests, termite-eaten tree trunks (yes, I do have them in my house) and plenty of twigs and branches - dried old dead crap, basically.
If I could add one more it would be people, lots of them! It’s imperative that life is lived, enjoyed and shared in a home. Without that it is just a house.
How have your past homes influenced your current home ?
I think every home I’ve lived in (46 in total, including ten owned homes, rentals, ships, boarding school and a YMCA) have in some way influenced my style and the home we live in now. Some taught me exactly what I didn’t want, the modern ones. Most have been period homes and instilled a love of character and history in me.
One particularly, the weatherboard house in Surrey, was my dream home and will never be beaten, but it was a lot to look after and cost a fortune to run. The barn though, where we live now, that has the potential to be the most suitable, the most cosy and the best of all worlds. It feels like home. It’s a happy place and seems to delight in its inhabitants making their mark. This one is for the long haul.
What draws you into an interior? And what turns you off?
That’s easy. I want to see light and nature. I need to see a journey almost a soon as I enter a home, a clear view to the outside world. Once I can see sky, trees and greenery that puts me at ease and then I can dwell, discover and relax in the interior. If I’m confronted with walls and darkness that makes me want to leave as soon as possible.
Oddly, our barn currently has a dark entrance hall, which upsets my eyes. But, as soon as I get to the kitchen/living space it’s a mini cathedral of light. We’re currently working with architects to rearrange all the walls to bring that light to the rest of the house. In the end, you’ll be able to see the garden within a few seconds of being invited in.
Your tip-top interiors hunting grounds.
My number one place for buying furniture, art, ornaments, linens and curiosities is Ardingly Antiques Fair. It runs about six times a year and is part of wider collection of events run by IACF.
I don’t think you can beat Farrow & Ball paint. I know the consistency is thinner than some other brands, but the depth of natural pigment and the way it changes colour throughout the day is like no other. My go to shade that seems to work with almost everything is Old White. I nearly always buy it when the DIY stores have their 3 for 2 offers, it’s a great way to save without compromising on the quality, as often happens when you colour match. They won’t stock all the colours, but you can order in.
For inexpensive, quality homewares, many of which have been made with recycled materials, or can be fully recycled again, I don’t think you can beat Dunelm UK.
My favourite two interiors/homeware shops in the world are: AG Hendy & Co in Old Town Hastings, East Sussex. It’s a mix of stunningly beautiful traditional hand-made cleaning utensils, antique linens ,enamel pots and kitchen paraphernalia. It’s an absolute treasure trove. And Besame Mucho in Bahama Village, Key West. I know this is way out there, but we take a pilgrimage to The Keys every year. It’s a mix of old world charm, heavenly-scented candles, womenswear, choice interiors books and throws and cushions to die for. Worth a flight just for that.
It is probable that requires no introduction. The woman is an interiors force of nature. She writes Joie de Vivre where she solves your Design Dilemmas, curates impeccable shopping lists, is honest, frank and makes you laugh. She is jolly good company as well as having excellent taste, which accounts for her 200k Instagram followers, who are devoted to her way with a gallery wall, tablescapes, chatty stories, and kitchen makeovers. (Lisa is the reason I have painted my kitchen cupboards three times and will probably do so again.) She has also written a book, Resourceful Living about revamping your home without a trust-fund-size budget.
Lisa’s kitchen, which has had several iterations, each more gorgeous than the last. Her York home is a treasure trove of vintage finds, and alive with charm and character. Image credit: Lisa Dawson
Your decor style.
Eclectic, art-loving, colourful, curated
What makes a house feel like a home?
What makes a home work is considering every item that you put in it - if you don't love it, don't have it. Homes should be full of memories and things that mean something to you, plus be an edited mix of both second hand, vintage and inherited pieces alongside more well thought out, contemporary investment pieces.
How have your past homes influenced your current home ?
I was brought up in London, Somerset and Hong Kong and the transient nature of my childhood has definitely formed the way that I decorate our homes now. I like to be surrounded by things that have history, things that mean something to me or remind me of special times or people. I enjoy change - I regularly switch around my rooms and furniture - and I have a fear of symmetry/staticness, I suppose. I love juxtaposition, particularly that of combining old and new which definitely comes from my HK and London background, where old meets new at every corner.
What draws you into an interior? And what turns you off?
Ambience draws me in. Textures, layers, warmth, mixed materials. well placed lighting. Good art. What turns me off is the colour grey (sorry) which brings no light to my life at all, symmetrical rooms, flat surfaces (lack of texture), excess of pattern.
Your tip-top interiors hunting grounds.
My Kitchenaid stand mixer (a total cake making game changer); charity/second hand shops (I cannot pass one and would trawl daily if it were possible); handmade ceramics from small makers - I love the individuality and uniqueness - Minnie Mae Studios, Rosie Gore, etc.
Nicole Gray is a wonderful stylist and interiors editor. I worked with her at You magazine, and was frequently blown away by her brilliance and eye for detail. Her work has appeared in Elle Decoration, Living Etc, Red, The Sunday Times Magazine - and she’s worked for brands like Habitat, Trouva and Yes Colours. Thrillingly, her debut interiors book, The Reimagined Home, is coming out in 2025. ‘Til then you can follow Nicole’s styling adventures on Instagram @nicolegraystylist .
Your decor style in three words.
Trend-averse. Modernist. Playful.
What makes a house feel like a home?
Foliage: Nature is often an untapped resource and will instantly add movement, scale and drama to a room without breaking the bank.
Something brown: it may sound a bit ‘meh’ but it grounds a scheme. I try to have a piece of brown furniture in every room. If it’s vintage and brown even better.
Artwork: It adds personality to a space (crucial when living in a new-build flat or rental where painting the walls anything other than the shade of béchamel sauce is out of the question). It's also an easy way to reflect the life, passions and interests of the homeowner.
How have your past homes influenced your current home style?
My mum has a creative eye for colour and loves to decorate. It became a family joke how she was always painting a wall or up a ladder with a hammer or drill. Like me, her home has always been her creative outlet. I vividly remember the hand-painted lavender stripes in my bedroom (most of which were endearingly wonky), along with our terracotta plaster kitchen and the blue-and-yellow box room that my mum painted with a sponge to create ‘movement’ on the walls – long before limewash was a thing.
So it's safe to say that I was introduced to the joy of colour and creative expression at a fairly early age. It was also during the era of Changing Rooms, when DIY and painting or wallpapering a wall was the best way to reinvent a room without spending much money. I still have that mindset: I’ve painted a sage-green feature wall in the kiddies' bedroom (though I’ve since abandoned the paint effects!) hung rugs found on travels as wall hangings, and re-painted the legs of our Ikea console rather than buying new. Not only does it help keep costs down, but it also gives the satisfaction of creating a home that feels authentic to you.
But my childhood home taught me so much more than just instilling the confidence to decorate and utilise colour. Without realising it, that home helped galvanise my ethos when it comes to interior design. As well as the specific items that are fondly lodged in my memory – the wooden dining table my mum found at a boot sale that the dog left chew marks on, the china cabinet full of my mum’s trinkets and treasures handed down to her by her parents (think Toby Jugs, Wedgwood plates, and Hummel figurines), and the avocado vanity unit that embarrassed the hell out of me at the time – it’s the atmosphere I remember the most and try to replicate in my own home. Rough around the edges, but lovingly lived in.
There are piles of books stacked on tables and crammed into shelves (I attempted colour coding but gave up when the books I loved didn’t have the right colour spine). There are scuff marks on the walls where we’ve hoisted bookcases up and down stairs to create more space, kids’ artwork dotted around the house, and furniture way past its best. Nothing is on show or ‘Pinterest perfect’. It feels warm and welcoming, with the odd coaster thrown in for good measure.
What draws you to an interior? And what makes you long for an exit?
There’s something about an unapologetically large, preferably squishy sofa that makes me squeal with delight. I recently had the pleasure of hosting a styling workshop at
’s interior design retreat in Turin, and my favourite room was dominated by a sofa. Not just any sofa: a wall-to-wall cloud of comfort by King Living. It was the ultimate conversation cocoon. To quote Mae West’s famous maxim: "Too much of a good thing can be wonderful."Conversely, when a room is lit like a nightclub with lava lamps, LED lights, fairy lights or neon signs (especially slogan ones – in fact, words of any kind on a wall), it makes my toes curl. I don’t want a home to remind me of the Vegas Strip or a night out in the ’90s. Anything low-lit also makes me wonder what’s being hidden by such lights. Floor lamps, dimmers and desk lights only for me.
Your top interiors hunting grounds.
In no particular order…
Labour and Wait: For the cooking tools you didn’t know you needed but, once used, can’t do without. I bought a mini milk whisk from there last year, making my homemade mochas finally drinkable.
Modern Art Hire: For handcrafted furniture, artwork and accessories with a difference. I often scour it for styling jobs. I want everything.
Color Makes People Happy: For microporous paints (paints made with linseed oil, chalk, and alabaster that allow your walls to breathe) in a range of joyous hues made with local ingredients from East Sussex. I love the flirty raspberry hue of ‘Is There Somebody That Loves You Like I Do’.
Now THAT is what you call a substantial, wide-ranging read. It took - as you might imagine - some considerable time to put together, so if you enjoyed it, please leave me a heart or a comment (I LOVE your comments and am always here for your thoughts). If you think someone else would enjoy it - please share it, so I can reach more people in this lovely community. Thank you, my friends!
Just read this marvellous missive in the bath (which is my favourite room at the weekends because there’s only room for one person)! Absolutely blown away to be included with such kind words, and hugely grateful for all the links and other substack recommendations- I now have about 384 tabs open AND you have inspired me to write about my dolls houses (there are two). Total joy 🤩
Loved your comments around the folks house. It brought back happy memories of reading to my daughter where dolls houses were featured.