‘The home should be the treasure chest of life.’ —Le Corbusier
I admit it – I’m a house person. I’m interested in where people live, their décor, their knickknacks and treasures, and their stories of how they ended up where they did. I watch all those shows – the ones with the plucky presenters who bring camera and crew into someone’s home, peer into their lives, and ‘make over’ years of accumulated inertia – resulting in a fresh, clean, magnolia slate. I secretly fantasize that maybe someone will come and do that to my house (though my husband would no doubt run them off the property brandishing his gardening trowel or rake).
I believe that every house – from your swish modern loft apartment in Shoreditch to your higgledy-piggledy Tudor farmhouse in Kent – and every semi-, flat conversion, footballer’s mansion, and tower block in between – can tell a story. Just like it’s easy to see a resemblance between people and their pets, people and their houses shape and reflect each other. Home is an important ‘character’ in our lives, just like family, friends and colleagues.