HOME

Faking one, moving one, finding one. Plus slumlords, flower frogs, Swedish Death Clean (again), and over-spending

On set flowers

It’s been a busy few weeks with much of my busy-ness centred on matters of the home. My mum has moved out of her London flat and in with me, both my children are currently looking for new house shares in London and my own home has been in a state of transition as I wind down the summer airbnbs and make room for my mum, as well as family guests in the coming weeks.

I’ve had Christmas shoots, where I’ve decorated a woman’s university club in Mayfair to look like a welcoming home; I’ve spent days in prop houses ‘shopping’ for furniture; I’ve been on a industry panel offering feedback to Interior Design Masters students; I’m volunteering at Shelter charity, whose mission statement includes “We exist to defend the right to a safe home. Because home is everything”.

Home, more than ever, is where my head is right now.

In 2024 I’ve probably spent more time in my own home since the Covid lockdowns of 2020, not all of it happily. At times it’s been profoundly lonely (I didn’t know you could have friends but still feel lonely). At times I’ve thought of selling up and starting over. But I stuck it out and home is once again beginning to feel like a place I want to be, a place I’m proud of creating.

I’d have to dig deep in therapy to find out why exactly so much of my life and career has been focused on creating homes in all the places I’ve lived in the world, but suffice it to say, the home is my thing. (That said, I also have the strongest itch to travel right now, the gap year I never took because I had kids at 23. But that’s another post).

Thankfully the process of packing up my mum’s flat was relatively painless. I’d braced myself for a few weekends driving to London and sorting things, but in the end it didn’t take much. You see, my mum - unlike her 3rd child - doesn’t have a lot of stuff. And what she has, she is mostly unattached to.

My new roomie, taken quickly to send to my siblings, but here you go :)

It made me think about the concept I mentioned in an earlier post, about the trend of the Swedish Death Clean or döstädning. Sounds morbid, but really it’s just about considering what you’d leave behind for your loved ones to have to sort out and decluttering your life as a way to alleviate their stress after you’re gone. But it’s also about living a more intentional life at home and not being burdened by constantly cleaning and tidying excess stuff.

My mum is not near death and she’s never heard of a Swedish Death Clean, but I think she must instinctively have a feeling of wanting to pare down her belongings in later life. Very few things came with her on her move - the most precious being a box of family photos. That is what I’ll be pulling out next weekend when all my family come to visit. That is what will spark conversation and memories and laughter.

There are a few small ornaments and mementos she’s had for years that also made the move: a dainty marble bust of a lady; a small silver squirrel that belonged to her mum; a tiny baby dress worn by my sister to a wedding; a silky crocheted bonnet worn by me as a baby. But even these remain boxed up and in a cupboard in her new room. As I’ve learned over many moves between cities and countries, once things are boxed away they are quickly forgotten, so I may find a way to display them for her.

Not everyone is like my mum. I’m definitely not. I derive so much pleasure from my belongings and the memories they hold.

Or just the pure beauty of some of them. I like seeing some of my favourite things on display, although far fewer than I used to. But even I have been looking around lately and thinking about what really matters. The age old question comes to mind: what would you save in a fire?

Not the shelves of ‘props’ in my office, that’s for sure. Not the many little knick-knacks waiting to be used on a shoot, but actually just gathering dust. Not the box off art supplies I really don’t think I’m ever going to use (black pen, pad of paper, I think that’s all I need). Aside from generic items like candles, books, vases maybe some vintage cutlery, I actually never re-use these so-called props on shoots. I hire or buy or am provided by the client with new pieces with which to style each new shoot. It turns out I don’t need to be my own prop house after all. Slowly I’ve been thinning out these shelves and realising I don’t remember, let alone miss the things that went to charity or Facebook Marketplace.

My daughter assisting me on a recent shoot amidst all the bits that find their way back to my prop shelves, often unused. Ella’s job here was to melt candles so they look more used and drippy. I am a task master.

I won’t get rid of all the bits on my prop shelves including these brilliant little spiky flower frogs as they’re so cutely named. Great for single stems in vases. The shells and pearls? Not so sure.

But even for those of you who aren’t stylists (most of you!) sometimes your shelves can fill up quickly and your belongings can start to weigh you down. And if you have small children? You are likely drowning in stuff! I remember those days.

I’ve been a sounding board lately for someone who has got themselves in a bit of a pickle. I’ve known this person for many years and so I have seen patterns of behaviour repeat over time. There has been a pattern of overspending, impulsive decision-making, satisfying immediate desires without considering long term consequences, ultimately leading to debt and the need to start over. A flat in a great part of town that they can no longer afford, filled with things they don’t need and a deep panic about how to get out of the situation.

So many of us get into similar situations. I got in credit card debt once when I was in my early twenties and vowed never again, a promise I managed to keep. For me, overspending has never been an issue. For others, they find themselves in the same bind over and over, either because of impulse buying or because they just can’t make ends meet and a credit card is the only option.

For the over-spenders, the acquisition of stuff is usually a way to try to fill a hole and for a moment it does. But then the buzz wears off and the hole opens up again, begging to be filled by…a new top of the line blender because then you’ll definitely make the protein shakes that will help you get fit again; a motorbike because it will be so much easier to get round London; a gadget that opens wine so smoothly and quietly, who cares if it cost more than the most expensive bottle of wine you’ve ever bought?

I always thought people could change, even though it is more widely reported that they can’t. Leopard. Spots. Etc. The (naïve) optimist in me always hopes for the best. But when you’ve been around long enough to see one person repeat the same mistakes over and over, you realise how hard it is for most of us to change. And I am not sitting here in judgement. I could list ways in which I am stuck in my own destructive patterns.

Amongst my siblings I’m probably considered the more impulsive risk taker in terms of my life decisions - freelance, moved a lot, didn’t set up a pension early enough - but with this person I mention above, I am sometimes the voice of reason. I’m the sensible one. My advice to this person? Unload. Sell. Unburden yourself from the material things that you thought would fill a hole but didn’t. The things became a noose around their neck and it’s getting tighter.

Not everyone is burdened in the same way in terms of over spending and debt, but stuff can still weigh us down. I think about all the things in my loft and my garage that are literally just gathering dust and mentally weighing me down. Things I put there ‘temporarily’ yet there they remain two years on. For me it’s not things I bought, but more likely things I find and think I’ll repair or fix up in some way. An oversized lampshade frame that one day I’ll cover with fabric. A mirror I’ve had for years and I don’t really like anymore, but reminds me of a time in my life and maybe if I paint it, blah blah blah.

Maybe I’m also having that middle age drive to simplify. An early Swedish Death Clean might be due. Although if you read back through this and my old blog, it is actually a journey I’ve been on for most of my forties and even earlier. There has been an ebb and flow of ‘things’ in my life for many years, even going back to 2011 when we sold almost all our stuff to move back to London from LA. I move, the home fills up, I feel overwhelmed by the stuff, I declutter, and the process repeats.

The fact that I’m a stylist means I deal in the movement of objects more than your average person. My job literally involves filling rooms with things for photography and film and then removing them all and doing it again somewhere else. Filling and arranging the space for shoots is amazing and fun and creative and mostly fulfilling. The last hour of a shoot, however, when we’re packing down, trying to organise and label and make sure the couriers return it all safely to the correct prop houses, all the while putting back together the location house so it looks like we were never there, and trying not to piss off the producer who is terrified of crew overtime. That bit? It’s a recipe for a panic attack.

And that is probably why my urge to simplify my home life continues. After a shoot I often find myself spending hours returning to the shelves items I took on a shoot and and didn’t use. Organising boxes, putting back linens and cutlery. Yes, this is part of my job and there are areas just for those things, but the non-jobby parts of my home? I want those to be easier to maintain.

I recently went with my daughter to a house viewing in North London. She and her flat mates are looking for a new place and it is grim. Slumlords are rampant. If you’re a young professional trying to make your way in the world, you still need to be in a city. Landlords know this. They know most can’t afford their own place and will be sharing, so they hike the monthly rent up knowing it will be spilt 3/4 ways. Most living rooms are the ‘third bedroom’ or because many properties are ageing Victorian terraces, one of the bedrooms is always tiny.

And the conditions are bleak. The one we saw together was laughable. The poor girl showing it knew it, but it was her job to fill the tenancy. The toilet wasn’t connected to the wall and she said they’d “flag it up with the landlord”. The fridge was filled with rotting food, the floors were rippling from water damage, and it was filthy. And it wasn’t cheap. All this to say, most London landlords know they don’t even have to try. There will probably be a bidding war on this dingy basement flat because people feel desperate.

Obviously my daughter won’t be bidding on that flat and the search continues. To be fair, the others she has viewed aren’t as grim, but still the feeling of panic and desperation lingers.

Everyone just wants a place to call home, whether it’s a flat share with friends or a family home in a city or a bungalow by the sea (lucky me!) or one room with a hob and a sink in the corner. Not everyone gets their wish. All the more reason to be grateful and to find ways to help others in their quest. I don’t really know how I’ll do that in a big way, even though as time goes by I wonder if that is my purpose for the next chapter of my life. But in smaller ways, by helping family and friends and maybe even by writing here, I hope my words about the home might help someone.

Thanks as always for reading x

“We’ll flag it up with the landlord”

Line up! There’ll be a bidding war for this basement gem.