The dreaming and planning started early in my pregnancy for how our lives would look with a baby. There would be trips to galleries and cafés with a baby in a sling, and picnics in the park – essentially a baby as an accompaniment to my smug aspirational dreams. My visions of life at home were equally solidified: a collection of wooden toys curated on a shelf relegated to the nursery. There would be fresh linens and pale, soft sheepskins… Reality (of course) hit hard and fast as soon as our son made his appearance. I realised a baby was not a compliant extension of anyone’s ego. Instead, he was a brand new human with his own (rather strong) personality.
Otis is now almost three and our whole house is his playground. Bespoke hide-covered sofas are launch pads and garages for an army of plastic cars. Our bed is a tented playground; any source of running water is a water park. And, really, we are all the better for it. The most successful interior design does two distinct things: it reflects the creative impulses and desires of its inhabitants, inspiring and delighting them; and it provides a safe, comfortable haven, with elements robust enough to last and furniture inviting enough for guests to put their feet up and relax. Introducing a child into this mix puts both to the ultimate test.
The only thing you can count on is that each new stage will feel totally different to how you imagined. I try to steer clients towards their idea of a dream home, knowing that whatever you plan for a child will be disrupted and outgrown as quickly as it is built.
Due to a hellish flood that wreaked havoc at our house, Otis has spent the majority of his life living in a building site. The idea of baby proofing was impossible in that environment, and I think it has given him an in-built sense of how to stay safe – and a great curiosity for how things work. I wouldn’t recommend bringing up a toddler in a construction zone, but I learnt a lot watching him navigate a space without the usual modern-day guard rails.
Iconic images of children living in stylish homes (Cy Twombly’s son, Alessandro, playing in his Roman palazzo springs to mind) may seem unattainable, but if you can accept that the beautifully made sofa needs to be built and upholstered to be jumped on, and somewhere stored in a cupboard is a plastic play monstrosity, then why not decorate as you wish? Watch as your children find new ways to play with antiques and soft furnishings.
Breakable items at our house exist above child height, but having previously party proofed the rooms, not much is off limits. In Otis’ nursery, I backed Schumacher’s ‘La Menagerie’ fabric and used it as a wallcovering. Featuring medieval depictions of animals stitched into the flame red linen, it might not immediately shout ‘nursery walls’, but the naive depictions of animals remind me of how a child imagines things. And as it is one of my favourite fabrics, when he grows up and wants a bit more space further away from our room, it will serve as a great spare room. Watching Otis wake up in the morning and wave at the animals is pure magic.
These choices affect how you end up living in your home, and how a child fits into life (and how we fit into theirs) in general. Decorating with children in mind can inspire new creativity and give you the chance to embrace your own inner child.
Rather than thinking in binary terms of pink or blue, or themed interiors, opting for something imaginative will have a lasting effect. In one of our projects, we had a lot of fun with the clients and the architect designing a secret passage between two siblings’ rooms accessed through a bookcase. In another house, we used an antique hamper that, when opened, reveals a laundry chute where dirty clothes could slide down to the utility room.
The urge to buy lots of new toys and transform rooms into highly designed, built-in playrooms can be strong. But I think there is so much to be said for not buying everything new. My mother-in-law kept many things from my husband’s childhood and these items are all our son’s favourites. If you get joy from transforming rooms into kids’ zones, I say go for it. But if you feel exhausted by this sort of high-pressure, expensive activity, don’t do it. Children will project themselves onto whatever they find and, in doing so, they will allow you a new perspective on your own surroundings. In my experience, the best fun will be found in the discarded cardboard box that the agonised-over toy was sent in.
