The key to a lived-in home is staying put

The upside of not moving (from someone who's moved a lot)

Jet lag for days but happy to be home, feeling a renewed sense of purpose

Despite writing at length - in my books and my various blogs over the years - about slow decorating, on my recent trip to LA I realised I have been holding myself to an entirely different set of rules. Particularly lately, with so much more to do to my little house by the sea after two years of renovating, and constantly feeling overwhelmed by the time and cost required, my thoughts have been more “why aren’t you done yet?” than “chill, these things take time”.

Some of you may know that I lived in Los Angeles for many years, and even longer in the States as a whole, from age 17 to about 36. Both my brothers still live there as well as a small handful of good friends I’ve kept in touch with since I moved back to my hometown of London in 2011. Due to a recent change in circumstances that threw me into a crisis, I felt I needed to get away, out of my usual routine and surroundings, so that I could hopefully come back refreshed and clearer. I’d moved to Margate for a new life and suddenly that life was making me sad and stuck and my self-esteem was at an all time low.

Flying to LA for a quick getaway might, to some, sound glamorous and extravagant, but the reality is it was probably cheaper than if I’d hopped on the Eurostar for a weekend in Paris! I stayed with my brother in his amazing little house in the hills of North East LA, close to where I’d once lived, taking my mum and eldest child with me for a reset in the winter sun; we went for drives and we cooked at home. Far from glam and extravagant.

I also went for a lot of walks up in those hills, in awe of the creativity of many of the homes’ exteriors, gathering inspiration for my bungalow in Margate and hopefully for you too (my next post for paid subscribers is all about this, with lots of photos I took on my walks in a place many who visit LA would never know about).

Most of the friends I visited (plus my brother) have lived in the same homes since I moved away so it was interesting to see how they’d evolved over the intervening years. For the most part they felt much more lived in, understandably. A lot can happen in 13 years! (I, on the other hand, have lived in five homes in those same years, although I’ve also written five books so I guess that’s where I’ve put my energy!)

Visiting friends’ homes in LA, I saw that kids’ rooms had evolved into college student rooms, more pictures had appeared on the walls, furniture had moved around or been replaced, gardens had bloomed, saplings had grown to towering heights, floors had become worn in places, once new finishes were now beautifully burnished. Even the one friend who hadn’t been in her home quite as long had quickly created a home that felt warm, welcoming and lived-in despite things not being completely finished.

The LA home of my friends, photographed here by Catherine Gratwicke in 2012 for my first book Modern Rustic, but now even more lived-in as I saw on my recent visit to LA

As someone who has moved frequently over the years, the idea of settling down in one place has always filled me with a quiet sense of fear. Perhaps it’s FOMO. Why stay in one place when there is so much to see and experience, goes the narrative in my head.

Moving to Margate was meant to be different. I'd been thinking about moving back to the sea for many years (I lived in the area for a few years before moving to the States) but I couldn’t realistically do that until both my children left for university. Finally three years ago I made it happen, found a great house after years of searching and began the process of a relatively slow renovation while living in the space. But then with the breakdown of my relationship, the house was (is) suddenly at risk and I found myself once again giving in to that same narrative. “Sell the house, move to another town, start again. It could be fun…”

But it wouldn’t be fun. It would be extremely sad, the loss of a long held dream.

My trip to LA was the reset I was searching for, inspiring me in a way I didn’t expect. I thought I’d come back with a detailed plan of action of how not to f**k up the life I’d worked towards for years. That’s not what happened. (And God knows I’ve written enough plans of action over the years to know what needs to be done!) I barely even talked about my problems when I was away. I properly disconnected.

So I don’t have the plan yet, but I do have a renewed sense that I want to be where I am and I need to find a way to stay. Seeing those friends and family who have bedded down in one place rather than continent hopping like me, has spurred me on to not lose the life I’ve dreamed of for YEARS! The harsh truth is, I may not be able to make that happen just because I want it, but bloody hell I’ll give it my all.

I was really inspired by my brother when I was in LA. I mentioned in my last post how he’s done everything himself - from foundations to windows to tiling to landscaping. It’s taken 15+ years and he’s not done. Will probably never be done. Because it’s also the doing that is part of the journey for some people. He’s not a builder by trade, just a grafter.

I complimented him on how much he’s achieved with his home and said it has inspired me to do more, to be more. He said he was impressed with how much we’d done to the bungalow in a short period of time and felt he was a bit of an idiot for dragging it out so long. He reminded me of how bad the house was when we bought it and (his words) how cool I’ve made it.

Regardless of who’s done it the ‘right’ way - slow, fast, somewhere in between - there has been a subtle but meaningful shift in my way of thinking. Since I’ve been back home this past week, I look at the rotting windows and instead of feeling like a failure for not having them replaced yet, I think “one day they will get done”. When I look at the garden which has so much potential but had previously made me feel overwhelmed due to the lack of progress, I think “it may take a few more summers to get it how you want it and that’s exciting”.

And when I decorate the last two bedrooms with a random but cheap assortment of charity shop furniture that isn’t exactly what I love but serves a purpose for now, I remind myself that this will not be the last bed/chest of drawers/rug I buy.

Interestingly, I wrote in my latest book CREATE, about letting go of the idea of a forever home in order to not stifle creativity:

If you think of your home as a ‘forever home’, every decision seems too important to mess up…If you think this is the last bathroom sink you’re ever going to buy, then it has to be absolutely perfect. It has to be THE ONE!”

(Said by me!)

But now I realise this also applies if you are planning to stay in a home for a long time (I can still never imagine forever, personally). Even if you’re in what you consider your forever home, tastes will change, needs will change, finances will change. THINGS WILL ALWAYS CHANGE! And that’s a good thing. There are no mistakes, just steps along the way.

The introduction to my latest book CREATE

Because my entire career as a writer, set designer, author etc is built around the world of interiors, I spend more time than your average person thinking about the home. I also spend a lot of time at home as my office is there and I am a die-hard homebody. But even I was getting tired of being at home. Of overthinking things and being hard on myself for not being quick enough or creative enough. But getting away for a reset (plus coming back to what feels like maybe, hopefully, pretty please… the imminent arrival of Spring) has been for the most part exactly what I needed.

Even if you can’t get on a flight, sometimes a car, train or even bicycle ride or walk to somewhere you’ve never been can be enough to reset your mind and clear your thoughts enough to formulate a new plan, whether it’s for your home or your career or your relationship or any number of things that make us feel stuck.

Right then, I’m off to paint a ceiling x