At this time of year, I always find myself turning inward a little more. The days shorten, the light softens, and home takes on a deeper role than simply the place we return to at the end of the day.
I left home at sixteen and spent many years living in places that never quite felt settled – bedsits, shared houses, rooms that were temporary by design. When I bought this house twenty years ago, with my husband, it wasn’t about perfection or arriving at something grand. It was about finally putting down roots. It became the place where our children grew up, and where, no matter what life brings, I feel safe.
As we prepare our home for Christmas, this short film captures the quiet details that make it feel warm and inviting.
For me, making a home has always been about comfort, texture and ease. A home that’s lived in, not precious. Furniture with dents, walls with the odd scrape – signs of a life being properly lived. I like spaces that invite you to relax, where you can exhale as soon as you walk in.
As the season turns towards Christmas, I lean even more into those comforting layers. Sheepskin rugs draped over the backs and arms of sofas add warmth and softness, but they also protect upholstery in a very practical way. Sheepskin cushions bring a natural texture that feels grounding, especially alongside softer cotton cushions – spiral knits and slubby weaves that add depth without being visually loud.
I love creating little nooks around the house – places to sit with a book or a cup of tea. Sheepskin seat pads on kitchen chairs make even the busiest space feel more inviting. Beeswax candles, with their gentle glow, sit in handmade ceramic holders, adding warmth as the light fades in the afternoon. There’s often a Brickett Davda mug nearby, filled with hot tea and held in both hands.
And at night, one of my favourite rituals is slipping a sheepskin-covered hot water bottle into bed. It’s such a simple thing, but it changes how the whole room feels – softer, calmer, more held.
None of these things are about excess. I don’t hoard, but I do collect pieces that feel special when I find them. Old paintings, my children’s sculptures, objects that might not mean anything to anyone else, but matter to us. Together, they create a sense of familiarity and care.
Especially at this time of year, I’m reminded that making a home isn’t about how it looks, but how it feels. A house becomes an inviting home when it offers warmth, comfort and a sense of belonging – a place to gather, to rest, and to be together as Christmas approaches.
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