It’s true that I love my job. I'm passionate about interior design, its history, its impact, and its power to tell stories and host the outworking of life’s journey.
But... however much I love the job I do, nothing will ever top the job title of “mummy.”
Somehow, the business-critical issue melts into insignificance when my son comes out of school, knees grass-stained again, jubilant about the goal he scored at lunchtime. The deadline will somehow have to wait until after the curtain has gone down on the Year 4 autumn concert. The email will always be scheduled for after the 1000th reading of The Book with No Pictures (IYKYK).
It’s a juggle, and sometimes (quite often) I get it wrong. There was a time recently when my son ran an XC club session in his sister's woollen school tights because I didn’t pack the right kit. And shame won’t let me forget the time just before Easter, tired from two days shooting for the launch of this collection, when the school’s headmistress had to call and remind me I had only collected two out of three of my children. A Volvo has never executed a three-point turn on a country lane so fast!
Maybe, like me, you’re also working hard to keep all the plates spinning. Maybe you also skid-steer into the playground to make pick-up most days, or come down from the bedtime routine to face a pile of overdue laundry and more than a handful of unsent emails.
However busy life has become over the years, the magic of their bedtime has never left me. Small newborns in white babygrows, pudgy hands on beakers of warm milk, or the shared giggle at the punchline of a funny storybook — all of it is pure magic. I’m desperately trying to hold onto our evening rituals, even though my eldest is approaching adolescence at breakneck speed.
The little chats sat on the edge of their bed, the routine with the 30 soft toys and their exact positions required for the light to go off, the protracted storybook choosing, and the “No, not yet!” from behind the bathroom door no longer exasperate me as they did when they were small and I was exhausted. Now they feel like a finite resource of little-person parenting magic, slipping through my fingers every evening.
We’ve moved around a lot during our children’s childhoods. Work, health, and schools have all triggered house moves. Each time, it’s been a priority to create a charming, cosy, calm, and playful space for each child. Perhaps in the hope they’d sleep better, or maybe due to some primal nesting instinct to provide security to my young. Whatever the reason, their bedrooms have always felt like a priority at every stage and age.
This sense of importance, and the reverence for bedtime, was very present as I curated the inspiration for the nine collections of prints that now form our children’s range. To design a set of collections that would form the backdrop against which other tired parents could pause, reconnect with the present blessing of this stage, and regroup with their precious small ones was, and still is, a weighty task.
Children’s bedrooms — shared, tiny, messy, organised, or large and lofty — all play host to an archive of memories. The treasured future memories of the playdate after school with the best friend, the sleepovers where no sleep is had, the lucrative visit from the Tooth Fairy, or the magic of Father Christmas and the empty, hung stocking all take place in your child’s bedroom.
I set out to develop a range of collections that would bring humour, nostalgia, and a sense of wonder to your children’s bedrooms and play spaces. Through the colourways, we’ve tried to offer a wide range of styles, preferences, sibling combinations, and ageless variety. In the print motifs themselves, we’ve aimed to deliver a little humour, a lot of charm, and a few new friends.
I repeatedly turned to my own children for their input while designing the 60 patterns that make up the collection. Their collective interests, humour, and imaginations are woven throughout. If I’m honest, some of the ranges reflect what I longed to find when they were smaller, while others are a solution to a design problem I face now.
For example, my son loves sport. Anything involving a team of friends and a ball of any size, and he’s there, keen as mustard. I, however, do not share his love for sport, its equipment, or his unwavering loyalty to his favourite team. And so, the standoff for his next bedroom makeover has begun. Do I love him enough to plaster the walls with the merchandise of that beloved northern club? Some questions are better left unanswered.
Thankfully, in Practically Perfect we found a compromise. It was forged one rainy November afternoon on the sofa, drawing and comparing ideas about his favourite sports. If he asks, it never crossed my mind that I might be designing myself a “get out of red bedroom jail” card with that collection! (Ahem.)
Perhaps you also know what it’s like to take the last seat at the school play, get the call about the forgotten swimming kit, or feel like the plates are hitting the ground around you.
I can’t promise that when you close their bedroom door (“Not too far, Mummy”) on a room adorned with House of Abigail wallpapers, curtains, or cloths, there will be fewer emails to reply to. I can’t promise that the wet laundry in the machine will have magically hung itself out to dry.
But I really hope their new House of Abigail room offers you and your little one the magical space you both deserve. A space to play, to smile, to share a chat about the next trip to the seaside, or to hear out their worries about the day to come. A space to land their day, and bring purpose to yours.
Will the sink be empty when you return to the kitchen? Probably not.
Will they sleep through because you put Eggs and Soldiers on the wall? Who knows. Maybe, maybe not.
But I like to think that creating a room filled with the wonder of Merrily or the charm of Puddle Down will help you bank a few precious moments each day with your small person.
Bedtime moments that are as magical and enchanting as they are. Spaces that somehow slow down this precious season and ease the constant slip of time through your fingers.
Rooms that host the moments making all the juggling, rushing, balancing, and self-doubt worth it. Rooms that hold a few precious, cosy bedtime moments, every day.
And, hopefully, rooms that give them the perfect space to live out the live-action recording of those priceless childhood memories: playdates, sleepovers, stockings, stories, and all.
