Be brave and trust your instincts when styling your space
How heartbreak, illness and COVID lockdowns led to overcoming style shaming and finding inspiration to create my perfect little home
An unsolicited opinion
It was 1998 and I was in my late twenties. My partner and I had just returned from a year of backpacking around Europe, and were back home in Melbourne setting up our lives. Having rented a gorgeous inner city warehouse apartment, we furnished it with beautifully crafted modern pieces, some of which were hand-made from locally sourced recycled timbers. Because I liked colour and he liked monochrome, compromises were made. But the results were stunning. Or at least I thought so. After a year abroad it felt amazing to settle into our new space.
The only remaining task was to select some artwork. He let me run with this, as it was more my thing than his. We had just been to Italy and visited the Uffizi gallery in Florence. When I stood in front of the incomparable Birth of Venus by Sandro Botticelli, my imagination was ignited by the beauty of the painting. I loved the romantic feel, the colours, the sense of movement, as well as the ocean and nature elements. And I wanted either a print, or something that was inspired by that work, to remind me of how amazing it was to witness that level of greatness. We had also acquired a number of pieces while travelling that were waiting to be framed and hung. And then there were some prints that I’d kept from my teens and early twenties. I grew up loving all things old world and vintage, which influenced the art that I had gravitated towards.
Not long after moving in, a person who was part of my partner’s circle came over for tea. They were going through a rough time and we were offering our support. Our guest happened to be an interior designer. And when the topic of choosing artwork came up, they told me that all the art that I liked, i.e. the European masters, was in fact “frith”. Although I’d studied English literature at university, I was unfamiliar with the term. Whether it was intended as an insult, I will never know. And I’ll admit that I’ve certainly said the wrong thing at times in my life. But I understood in that moment they were telling me that I had bad taste. I was too shocked to let them know how rude I thought it was to come to someone else’s home and say something like that. But unfortunately, it also triggered a shame response in me that lingered. I became a little afraid of making style decisions in case some random guest thought my home was tacky and tasteless. I didn’t end up getting that print. In short, I stopped trusting my instincts.
Fast forward more than two decades and I have well and truly moved on from that experience. But it’s been a journey. Having spent much of my adult life longing to own a home, I’m currently experiencing the exquisite pleasure of decorating my recently purchased apartment. And this time I’m following my own muse. So how did I reclaim my styling mojo? Well, like many things in life, it happened in stages.
Stage 1: The colour red will save me
Sadly, the relationship ended. So in 2009, I had to set up home once again. I was starting from scratch because I’d left most of my beautiful things behind. I did however take all my “frithy” artwork with me.
Having lived in a couple of places, I finally moved into an art deco apartment in the bohemian inner west of Sydney. Along with basics like a bed and couch, I needed to buy a car. So, there weren’t a lot of funds left over for expensive furnishings. I had no clear vision for my space. But one thing I knew for sure was that I wasn’t going to allow anything to cross my doorstep that I didn’t absolutely love. And back then, nursing a broken heart as I was, I wanted colour. Two of the first items I bought were a bright red kettle and a toaster. I intuitively felt that the warming quality of red would soothe the empty space in my heart and bring a healing energy into my home. I simply chose things that made me feel happy. And as a result, I ended up with a style of home that can only be described as eclectic. It was all mine and I loved it!
Stage 2: There’s nothing cosier than a cottage
Unfortunately, that period of my life was cut short by illness. Within a handul of years my health began to decline and I was diagnosed with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. I was so unwell that I had to pack everything up, or rather my family had to pack me up, and bring me back to Melbourne to live with one of my sisters and her kids. After several months, I was able to move out with another sister. We rented a cute little free-standing unit with polished floorboards in the outer east. Fortunately, this time we were much more aligned in our taste. She is an artist and absolutely loves colour!! She had recently moved back to Melbourne after living in a small regional town and was keen to create a cosy home with me. We quickly decided to go with a country cottage feel.
With both of us on a tight budget, we accepted a lot of furniture donations from family, most of which suited our vision. My artwork fitted in perfectly. We found quaint looking homeware at IKEA and thrift stores, and had a wonderful year together. When she moved out to get married, I continued to collect beautiful things. 2015 was the year I bought my gorgeous Wedgwood Sarah’s Garden dinnerware complete with painted butterflies, potted plant motifs, and beautiful colours that would not have been out of place in Tuscany. All these little touches helped to create a space that felt safe, comfortable and nurturing during the many years that I was unwell and often housebound. After 5 years in that home, I moved into an older unit nearby to reduce my rent and save up for my first property.
Stage 3: Simple but not plain
Miraculously, last year I was able to purchase my very first home in inner Melbourne with a stunning view of the river. Moving into this apartment meant a lot of downsizing. All of which I documented on my YouTube channel. I was leaving behind a roughly 1000 square foot space for half that size. So, I had to make some hard decisions about what I would take with me and what had to be let go. I was also moving into a more modern style of home. Having lived for 4 years in a freezing cold place with old and stained tiles, peeling paint, and door handles that regularly fell off, I was beyond ready for warmth, newness and convenience.
As a woman in my fifties, my taste had evolved. At this time in my life, I wanted a functional, low maintenance and calm environment. I had already started moving towards a more minimal aesthetic while living in my old place, and that included decluttering some of the artwork that I had collected. The pandemic lockdowns were the catalyst. Stuck at home for weeks on end, suddenly the walls seemed to be closing in. I felt like I needed to strip things back and simplify. I craved more white space between each painting. And as I took the pieces down one by one, my stress reduced, and my confidence started to grow. I was hooked!
While I still love colour, these days I prefer it in smaller doses. In a compact one-bedroom apartment there isn’t a lot of room for too many statement pieces. So, I had to determine which decor would be the stars, and which would need to take a back seat. Since I loved my remaining artwork, which was a mix of both old and new originals and prints, I decided to bring these favourites to the new place. Most were kept for both aesthetic and sentimental reasons. It’s quite a colourful collection and grabs my attention daily as I potter around my beautiful little home.
Since moving in, I have continued to follow my instincts and let more things go, including recently, the Wedgwood dinnerware. While still incredibly beautiful, they were competing with my paintings and dividing my attention during meals. So I replaced them with simple, elegant, minimal dish ware. And hey presto! Meal time became a more relaxed affair. When choosing the new dinnerware the same rule applied; nothing was allowed to come into my home that I didn’t absolutely love.
While I continue to delight in my more neutral and minimal choice, I have also included accent pieces from the same brand with owl motifs and feature a magical red fox, because, hey, I’m still me!
Frith is not “frith” after all
Recently I recalled that conversation with the interior designer and decided to look up the word “frith”. It turns out it is derived from an old English word which means, “peace; protection; safety, security, freedom, and refuge”. So all this time I was collecting pieces that perfectly aligned with my values and desires. When I read this definition, I actually laughed out loud and thought, “how amazing is that?!”
If you’re planning to decorate your own home and feel unsure about your style direction, my advice is simple:
Firstly, find your inspiration. Pinterest is a great starting point.
Be honest with yourself. You like what you like and there is nothing wrong with that!
Filter out the noise and unwanted opinions. It’s ok to seek advice from trusted people when you need it. But ultimately the decision is yours.
Be brave and follow your instincts. It’s a process, and mistakes are inevitable. But remember, it doesn’t need to be perfect. It just needs to be perfectly you.
Have you ever experienced style or home shaming? If so, how did you respond? And did it impact your future decorating decisions? Please comment on this post. Because I would love to hear your story.
Lilibet xo
I really felt the journey through your post. Beautiful reflections. Given me some food for thought about my journey. 💙