Finding sanctuary in the city: the rise of the soulful home

Telegraph

19-03-2025

There's a new look stealing into interior design. Neither maximalist nor minimalist, overtly modern or traditional, the soulful interior is a millefeuille of colour, texture and antiques set against knotty, reclaimed floorboards and earth-toned walls. It feels aggregated and personal; as if everything had settled into place over time. (you know, like when you compliment a friend on a quirky ottoman and they respond 'Oh that old thing... I found it at a flea market in Puglia'). It's the antidote to the rumple-free boutique hotel look that's predominated in recent years; the sort of home your parents – or even grandparents – might have grown up in.
But this isn't just about looks. There are economic and eco-linked reasons behind the shift to an ageless aesthetic. Increasing costs of materials and building work (projected to rise by 15 per cent over the next five years) have prompted a rethink. Why spend on fitted storage when a vintage wardrobe will do instead? The same applies to jettisoning perfectly-sound fittings – that fossil-stone kitchen island for instance – on to skips. Why discard, when you can re-use?
Does this make commercial sense you may ask? The interiors industry is, after all, predicated on consumption. But interior designer Brandon Schubert detects a change. 'For some, design is about newness – perfection,' says the former lawyer. 'But I'd suggest that there's a large cohort of designers – and clients – who feel differently.' They want a balance between an interior that's 'fresh and relevant' but feels, he says, as if its style has 'developed over decades'.
In fractious times, there's something comforting about the always-there home. Tamsin Saunders of Home & Found, who champions an art and antiques-led approach, likens it to a 'warm hug... that envelops the senses'. For Saunders, it isn't about looks, but atmosphere. 'A home should be where you feel cocooned. Secure.' If the last decade was about knocking through and throwing out, this is the era of putting back. Schubert cites a recent project: a Victorian villa in north London. The brief from the couple, in their mid-30s, was for a home that had quietly evolved. A petite fireplace – that would have originally been there – was returned to a bathroom gleaming with brass taps. In the once-open plan basement, new doors were added to screen the new snug with its deep ottoman and sofas. A once-cavernous space has become cosy, sequestered.
Adam Bray also counsels clients to spurn trends. 'It's like clothes. It's fun to go out in an out-there outfit once in a while... but you wouldn't want to wear it every day.' He refers to a mansion-block apartment designed for American clients. 'Deep-dish English' was the brief. This stretched to the kitchen. Others might have been tempted to knock through the compact, Jeeves and Wooster-esque space. Bray did the opposite. Lined in overscaled tiles from Balineum, he designed it to feel like an Edwardian scullery with classical joinery. 'It's small – but perfectly functional.'
Anna Haines, an advocate of 'richer, lived-in interiors' took a similar approach to a Marylebone apartment. Previously a blank canvas, she reinstated panelling and mouldings to conjure 'a light Georgian interior.' But she also likes to use rogue elements: the contrasting fabric on the back of a sofa, the mismatched Suzani cushion which make a place feel 'less studied'.
For Octavia Dickinson, placement is key. Once a floor plan is done, she'll always smuggle in a 'few extras'. Hanging bookcases, brackets and pieces in 'unexpected places' make a room look inhabited. She also breaks with convention when it comes to lighting. Leaving a few unlit areas (albeit not in practical spaces) adds a 'whisper of romance'.
Colour and pattern play a similar role. For Olivia Outred, it's Edward Bulmer's Jonquil Pink with its 'undertones of brown and green' which make it the foil for an antiques-centric scheme. 'Combining pieces from different eras conjures layers of romance', she says. Woodwork is also transformative, says Tamsyn Mason. 'You can paint the wall a straightforward colour, such as Farrow & Ball's Giles Blue; using a buff shade on the skirtings adds nuance.' For new fabrics with an antique patina, Bennison, Soane Britain, Sibyl Colefax or Robert Kime excel at muted archival patterns.
History also played its part in Christian Bense 's Knightsbridge project. His brief for the mid-18th century townhouse was to conjure up 'a journey through time'. The developer-mangled architecture was restored but in every room the decoration is different. One bathroom is lined in panelling; another is wrapped in a bucolic wallpaper. In the kitchen, light pours through a classical oculus. Bense likes to imagine the first owner moving in with the Georgian dining chairs he found at auction.
And there are absolutely no trophy pieces. The gleaming plates on a dresser were chosen to be used – and chucked in a dishwasher. The sofas are deep enough to snooze on. 'This isn't a show home,' says Bense. It's quite the opposite. A soulful home.