Once the local sweet shop, this Victorian house  felt like home from the moment I stepped inside. I’d been on
the hunt for a period property for a couple of years but so many traditional terraced houses felt too narrow and a little down in the dumps. This one, being a corner house, had a window in every room, and I was drawn to the sense of space – and despite the soulless ’90s decor, some of the original features remained. A major renovation was not part of the initial plan but the potential to create my dream home was just too tempting.

I was determined to rip up the rule book for what is expected of a Victorian house conversion. I get a kick out of marrying traditional design with influences from other territories and eras; with this house I wanted to combine its historical legacy with a Mediterranean influence and a dash of North African style inspired by my travels and heritage. I wanted to fuse decades, palettes and schemes to create sociable spaces that flowed naturally, alongside corners of calm and cosiness. 

 Fast forward a year and what started as a tired, two-bedroom, two-storey house  has become a vibrant three-bedroom, three-bathroom with a loft conversion and a terracotta-filled rear extension opening on to an Amalfi Coast-themed terrace.

Every space has been reconfigured, reimagined or added to, beginning with the facade, replacing pebble dash with a clay-coloured render to complement the bricks. Walls went down and came up, the entire ground-to-first floor staircase was taken out and rebuilt, with each step and spindle cut to size. Skylights were craned in – seeing trucks drop huge glass structures over the garden fence was quite surreal.

A major decision was what to do with the kitchen, which was closeted behind the staircase. The wall and pillar that penned it in were knocked down and the internal area extended to become an entertaining space. A surprise design statement came from the newly plastered walls, which were too lovely to paint over. The peachy tones blend in with the terracotta parquet tiled floors and make for a light-filled showstopper. 

My interior design process for each space was rigorous. First, I honed in on an object, place or material that inspired me – a floral basin, for example, set the tone for the main bathroom. I would then create a mood board to explore colourways, textures, furniture and decorative details – there are helpful visual tools out there, like Canva. I also made use of Soho Home’s design and mood boarding consultation. 

Challenging conventional colours and styles on big items such as windows, doors and stairs made a huge difference. Why should windows be black or white when you could go green? Materials were a big factor in my decision making, too; the textures and tones of micro cement, marble or plaster impacted the accents and fittings I introduced. And once I started looking beyond the functional role of the kitchen and bathrooms, I realised that I could have so much more fun with these spaces.  

As well as new, thoughtfully made pieces, I spent months hunting down vintage basins, or dressers that could be turned into washstands. It took around a year to source most of the products, although I had been accumulating pieces long before that. A passionate vintage buyer, whenever I’m on holiday I search for local flea markets and antiques shops. I travelled to reclamation yards around the UK to source dressers, sanitaryware and decor. You have to trawl until the right piece catches your eye.  

A trip to Somerset resulted in a toilet cistern being carried back on the train. It was worth the perplexed looks of fellow passengers. Likewise, with a bedroom chair on the number 28 bus from Ladbroke Grove. I have also carried lampshades back from New York and Sicily.  

I also spent hours trawling through Facebook Marketplace. The floral hand-painted Sherle Wagner basin that belonged to a former King of Malaysia was being sold by a chap called Andy who had worked with the King; he was given first dibs on the basin when the King was clearing out his London residence. It had pride of place in Andy’s bathroom for many years, but he was downsizing and I promised to give it a good home. The basin did need new fittings that required American parts, but I managed to track some down to a New York showroom, which shipped them over. Also found on Facebook Marketplace are the lights in the kitchen, which were originally in the home of Queen Elizabeth the Queen Mother. The company that carried out the demolition
of the building to make way for luxury apartments was selling some of the original fixtures and fittings and I grabbed them. 

The online auction site The Saleroom was another great resource for tracking down quality antiques that didn’t break the bank. I bought mirrors that came from Claridge’s but were being sold off following the hotel’s revamp. They still have the room numbers written on the back.  

Without a doubt, incorporating vintage is the most effective and fun way of achieving luxury and character without eye-watering costs – I saved upwards of £15,000 by tracking down quality second-hand fixtures and fittings. Thanks to the pieces dotted throughout the house, every corner has a story to tell, all of which are helping me to write the first chapter in calling the old sweet shop my home.