As an adult, I’ve found that it’s art which guides my décor. When I walk into an optic white room, I immediately scan the walls, looking for spaces for my frames. As soon as I’m settled on at least one larger scale piece, I start to jigsaw my collection, pulling sympathetic tones out of pastels and acrylic. There has been a trend for meticulous colour matching with artworks, casting them as the most important lens on a room’s mood board. I’m personally a little looser with my blending, preferring to work within a spectrum rather than choosing my wall colour, skirting and ceiling based on the specific pantone of an artist’s brushstroke. But each to their own.
Echoes of Les Demoiselles can be felt throughout my home. It’s in the petrol blue of my kitchen cabinets (Rust-Oleum, Evening Blue), the dusty cinnamon of my gingham café curtains (The Cloth Shop). In my bedroom, the off-kilter pinks (Phlox and Alabaster, House of Hackney paint collection) speak to Picasso’s shocks of flesh. Les Demoiselles is also why I wear brown leather with indigo jeans—if PP says it works, it works. Over the years, I’ve fallen hard for other colours—dirty sage, Studio Green (Farrow & Ball) and bloodied red, for example, and found myself turned off of others (purple and canary yellow, any clean pastels, cream…). I know that my confidence and willingness to experiment with colour comes from my aesthetic education—understanding how to make the world beautiful (in my eyes) is one of the most valuable gifts my mum gave me, but it is never too late to learn. Resolutions may be a January thing but take this as a nudge to go and find the paintings and palettes which anchor your own taste. Let them lead any forays into the rainbow-at-home—there’s nothing like a tried and tested blueprint to get the creative juices flowing.