The Bed

There was only one thing on our minds last week, Design week daring!

The great and the good of the design world displaying/ flogging their wares to what they hoped were international buyers for huge design emporiums. At every stall they looked up hopefully, then it came, the dreaded question “What do you do? Architect, designer, buyer?”, Me: “Erm.... student”, the disappointment/ disdain was palpable and I quickly shuffled onto the next person, reeling in how my one time position of (Semi, not really, but kind of) buying clout in one industry, has descended to this in another. Still, what do they know? In 2 years time I could literally be the hottest property out there and you know what, I will remember who was nice to me and who wasn’t... oh yes I will.

There were obvious favourites for me. The Tramshed on Rivington Street, with it’s De La Espada collection of designer-led brands, resulted in actual drooling and, for just a few moments consideration that somehow, it would feasible to buy the Studioilse (http://www.studioilse.com/home/) king-size bed with it’s beautiful brass feet. (entirely feasible if I sell my house and don’t eat for 2 years).

Decorex, on the other hand, appeared to have stepped straight out of Homes and Gardens, all very lovely...lovely fabric, lovely people, lovely, lovely, but nothing to really challenge or excite.

Back in the real world my design skills are being put to good use as I have been enlisted to help with the semi-transformation of a family home in Lewes (pictures above). The house is a beaut in its own right, all wooden floors, bright white hallways with an abundance of space. But having not been decorated in a few (read 20ish) years it needs some love. (the downstairs loo has pretty much come back on trend with its garish 60’s influence). Nothing structural required, it’s all about accentuating the existing features and disguising the anomalies, all, of course, for nil pence. Ahhh if there’s one thing we love... it’s a challenge....

Dream A Little Dream

Sincere apologies for the delay in posting, I appreciate that you may be verging on dispair by now.

Fear not, my time has not been wasted.... no no I have in fact been, pursuing/ living the dream.
I am sure it hasn't escaped your notice that I have a slight interest (freakish obsession) with interiors and renovation. I love it all, I love building supply shops (except B&Q), I love managing builders (except nasty Bulgarian ones who suffer from halitosis), I love sourcing radiators, lights, paints...., I love watching it all come together as though there was a plan there in the first place (which in the main there wasn't) I LOVE IT.

So, rather than continuing cutting out images willy nilly and frittering valuable hours designing the perfect kitchen for the house I don't own in my head, I have decided to take a more constructive route and have now started an interior design course. A 2 year, part time, full on, course that (if I pass) will award me a diploma, which I think basically qualifies me to design my dream kitchen for the house I don't own in my head.

So far, so good. Great people, learning how to draw lines (harder than it sounds) and angles and attempting to sketch (it's clear I am not naturally gifted at all elements). My first client will be Ziggy Stardust, it's fictional client you understand. Scary, exciting times.

I have also been en vacances, en France. As many of you know, my long standing pipe dream is to renovate and own a property abroad, to spend a year living in the culture, getting to know the language and the people and building a beautiful home. I speak a smattering of French (Tricolore 2 eat your heart our), it's close, bloody beautiful and they have amazing wine, so this seems like as good a place as any (Portugal and Italy also close contenders).

Step 1 - visit the country. A blissful, relaxing week later with amazing weather, an abundance of cheese and rose and staying in the most stunning house I have possibly ever seen, I am afraid the dream grows ever stronger. Somehow, some day, it will happen. IT WILL HAPPEN!

Sweet Dreams

Painter Man

Operation stair sanding avoidance goes from strength to strength. This weeks diversion, the back bedroom. In many ways the back bedroom has been something of the underdog, one of the first to be done, at that point we had neither time nor energy to think about it so simply white washed. The time hath cometh to give it some love.

Usual colour debate ensued and many samples toyed with. I was initially keen on the pale walls/ dark wood combo which I often think looks great. Contenders included Farrow and Ball's Blackened, a shade which provides a satisfying range of colours depending on the light. But it is a cold colour and in an actually cold room I had reservations. For one crazy moment green was considered - green! A lovely rich, dark green, which wouldn't be out of place in a dining room. It looked great, the only problem with green, well it's not grey!

It's a fairly small room and not particularly light at certain points of the day so a vast majority would say go pale and there is some wisdom in that, so, I thought about it..... for about a milisecond. We all know that the samples were just tokenistic, there was only ever one contender - downpipe. I had my doubts, let me assure you, even I was concerned that it might be too muddy for a dark room. But it has never let me down yet and I had faith. Sure enough the wonderful moody hue is working it's magic, it doesn't look dark it looks rich, from green to blue to black depending on the light, it makes all the other colours stand out ... I love it!

Last week I had the pleasure of visiting Sweden to see the lovely Maya. It got me thinking how all of our styles are so very influenced by our neighbourhoods. None more so than Sweden which has an incredibly strong signiture style, not so much of the downpipe here. Everything is very perfect and uniform, with nothing out of place. The fact that Ikea came up with all those brilliant storage devices is no coincidence! It's not my personal style (alas) but it has a real beauty, I admire it's crisp orderliness and man they give good light!

My hood, on the other hand, could not be less ordered, a total melange, with sleek million pound homes next to semi-derelict high-rises. But wherever I am in this crazy town I can't help but find inspiration in the oddest places - a beautiful window here, a cart that could be an amazing coffee table there. I sometimes wonder if everyone thinks in interior?

With the mix of styles there is the equal mix of people. Crazy crazy times round these parts and many others and like alot of us I have a love hate relationship with the area. Some times you literally fear for your life walking down the street and sometimes, like a few moments ago, a neighbour you haven't met before knocks on the door and gives you a bag of greengage plums from his garden.

We might not have a deli on every corner and there might be many many problems, but mostly, it feels like a community who care and are trying and I like that.

Neighbourhood

Firstly I think I need to clear something up, contrary to my last slightly misleading post. Project squat is by no means over and neither is this blog. 'Phew' I hear you communally cry, I know you would all be lost without it.

Simply, we are considering options. With work all but done (all but, being a flexible term), I am obviously looking into what next. Heaven forbid I have any free time to enjoy the summer or spare cash to, I don't know, buy an ice-cream. No no no, as many of you know, I, like many other ladies, need a project and a project I will find. Chances are nothing will come of it but I am currently spending many an hour, perusing house websites and visiting properties in need of a total overhaul. If I had my way, and ALOT of money I would have snapped one up ages ago and be knee deep in plaster dust buy now, such is my enthusiasm for the world of decorating. Thankfully I have an altogether more sensible voice in my ear and a total absence of readies... so for now we continue to consider...

My research has resulted in some lovely outings. On a recent visit to Walthamstow whilst cycling through the marshes, along the canal, past the families with small children picking wild blackberries and the groups of Australians picnic-ing on the vast green landscapes and swathes of wild flowers, I literally felt like I had stepped back to my childhood in Yorkshire. (Minus the Australians, we didn't have so many of them in 80's Ilkley).

Walthamstow village itself was a delight a veritable oasis in the heart of the city - little cafe's and bars and THE most beautiful streets with incredible houses... Who knew? (well no doubt alot of you, but not me!).

From one extreme to the next, I then ventured to Hackney Wick to sample a bit of Hackney Wick-ed (see what they've done there?) So, this is where the cool kids go?? The most urban of urban landscapes, towers of rust, dis-used warehouses car-parks come theatre spaces, cinema's set up on dis-used fridges, but mainly thousands of trendy young things with wild eyes and cans of red stripe. No doubt all artists, DJ's or photographers. I was immediately taken back to Brooklyn, Bushwick to be precise (so post Williamsburg!)

Both areas have their charm and both contenders for squat number 2.

Meanwhile back indoors we are still left with the one major piece of refurb, the beast that is the staircase. I am between jobs at the moment, 'resting', I believe they call it. Ample time to tackle the monstrous task. So, I have resorted to the only option left, procrastination. Suddenly, even though it never bothered me before, I am struck by the monstrosity that is the bathroom door is. A cheap, pine emergency purchase, how could I have let this go, it MUST be painted, I can bare it no longer. So bathroom door is now the same delectable shade as the walls, yes your favourite and mine.. Downpipe.

As for the stair case... have you seen the state of the shed....?

Moving On Song

I remember once upon a time, along time ago, going to a rather terrible B&B in Minehead (a fairly terrible place - at the time) with my family. Every night at dinner the owner would read through the menu and list the vegetables one by one, after which he would say 'fresh from the garden', "Coq Au vin with carrots, fresh from the garden, peas fresh from the garden and potato's dauphinoise fresh from the garden". Clearly this was the source of endless jokes throughout said holiday and will frankly still cause some hilarity when resurrected.

But now.. I GET IT! I am that man. A friend came over for dinner and I couldn't stop myself... "erm that lettuce you are eating - it's from our garden, and the peas and the spring onion - yup, that too". Such is my shock and delight that we have literally grown real life vegetables and fruit (4, count them, 4 strawberries), that I can't hold back, I realise it's dull and not really even surprising to most but I am AMAZED!

Moving on (temporarily of course). It has been an interesting few weeks chez squat. Not one to let the (literal) dust settle for long, I have been having valuations on the house. The first one I thought was slightly crazy but after 3 more it seems not, the changes in the area combined with the work we have done means the value has risen, not insignificantly. This pleases me of course. What pleases me more however is the compliments - admiration for the radiators or niches in the bathroom, an odd 'lovely fireplace' and I am putty in their hands.

I KNOW they are sales people and I KNOW they want my business, but yes, asking me if I am an interior designer will work every time! It's not definite that we will sell and move and yes I would be sad to leave the hard work behind but every time I walk past any of the many building projects down the road I can't help but feel a pang of envy. Besides, the hallway needs re-painting so it must be time to move on!

Strawberry Fields

There are half drunk cups of coffee all around me, the lingering smell of freshly smoked cigarettes hangs in the air, Euro trash beats blares out of the stereo. A holiday in Greece? Turkey, a quick trip to Paris... no no my dear friends, I am in my very own kitchen. Except, it is no longer my own, it is well and truly theirs, buildersville. 5 of them, large and Polish, they don't say much but I can't help but worry about their diets.

At this point there is no point trying stake ownership over the house... it's so much easier to accept that for now it is theirs, they will do with it what they will. So, I creep apologetically around them and watch as things slowly but surely progress.

I am shocked/ amazed about the quantity of produce the consume, coffee, cigarettes, wallpaper, paint, all of it in such ludicrous quantities I honestly don't know where it goes.
A 10m roll of wallpaper is surely enough do approx 5m of wall - apparently not, 2 rolls doesn't even cut it. 7 litres of paint for the outside, no no no, of course they need more. However much you think you need, double it and you might be getting close.

The results, as ever, are pleasing, in fact the newly painted WC door, brought squeals of delight. As ever my love of a dark bold colour knows no bounds. Doors which were previously the cheapest, lowest quality emergency purchase have been transformed into an elegant statement of a door, all through a lick of paint. The paper, I am sure, not to everyone's tastes, but I love it adds a real point of interest to a tiny non space. The exterior, slightly disappointing, mostly due to our choice of hue, is still a vast improvement and the outside light at the back is a literal delight.

Last night I consumed my very first home grown, perfectly formed, deliciously ripe strawberry. Oh the joy!