Essay: In praise of lovely things to look at

My boyfriend is greatly amused that I rotate the art in the house

May 2024

When I was a little girl, my Grandad made me a doll’s house: ‘Ty Jess.’ It was furnished with electric lamps (!), tiny sofa and chairs upholstered by my (incredibly, mostly blind) Granny. Strangely though, my favourite part of the whole scenario was two little framed landscape pictures in plastic gilt frames that hung in the perfect, racing green carpeted living room.

I also had a wooden folding box of my mum’s old Cindy clothes. Cindy herself was long lost, but the box was complete with little ski boots, a faux fur coat, and a pipe cleaner dog on a lead. Most excitingly though there was a black and white painting of who I assumed was her boyfriend, in a stand-up frame, to keep on her titchy bedside table.

My early teens rolled round and I loved hanging things on my own bedroom walls. I lobbied my parents for a pin board that took up an entire wall of my bedroom. I covered it in everything visual I liked - paint samples I collected, paintings from charity shops, bad drawings of crisp packets from GCSE art class. Arranging and then rearranging every item on it, long after bedtime, was one of my favourite weekend activities.*

Above the pin board, I got every member of my family to paint their hand and stamp onto the wall a print of their fingers. This included my brother’s first girlfriend, who, when I asked her to climb on a wobbly chair and paint her hand red before pressing it to the wall - was confused by the request, to say the least.** I loved the idea of recording the textures of this specific Sunday on my wall.

When most of my classmates were more interested in clothes - Billabong hoodies and Tammy girl tops - I saved up for a cuckoo clock, and for my birthday requested a poster of a Jason deCaires Taylor sculpture I had seen in a book at the school library.  These two worlds of their own hung above my IKEA chest of drawers.

Visiting my house one day, a girl from school, eyeing my pinboard, said ‘you love arty stuff around you, don’t you?’ She narrowed her eyes. Let’s just say her tone wasn’t all together complimentary. 

A few years later, I moved to London, to study at Camberwell art college. I rented the tiniest of box rooms, on a wonderful street. I shoehorned in a Kyffin Williams print I had brought from Wales, and covered one wall with blue-tacked wallpaper samples I sent off for. New housemates took the gentle piss out of how much I treasured all the bits I surrounded myself with.

My first afternoon of college was a gathering of students, in a multi-storey car park in Peckham that had been transformed to host an exhibition. Peak art school. I noticed another student nearby, wearing a rich red velvet coat and peering intensely at a sculpture. I struck up a conversation, mumbling at first so she had to ask me to repeat myself.

London and Camberwell fed my love of interesting, aesthetic things - on walls, in patterns, in galleries - in a way that felt satiating. I discovered Richard Wright, Gabriel Orozco, Yayoi Kusama. I went to life-drawing, learnt how to etch, lusted after the letterpress. More importantly though, I found my tribe - first Caroline in the red coat, and then plenty more. Don’t get me wrong, even as someone who sought joy in rearranging noticeboards, I thought some of them were odd bods. But they were all people who loved art, illustration, decoration - both making it and looking at it - as much as I did. People who would cart across town to see Grayson Perry’s latest pots, who would spend as long as I did in exhibition shops selecting postcards of their favourite paintings. That was more than enough for me.

Nowadays, I am very lucky to have my own home, which I have filled to the brim with artwork and things I love. My boyfriend is greatly amused by the fact that I have prints on rotation, as though my home were a gallery.*** But collecting things and looking at them brings me so much joy. Changing my walls really does change my outlook and makes things feel new again.

When I knew my house sale had gone through, the first thing I chose to buy (despite not having a sofa) was an oil painting I'd seen on Vinterior. It is pretty much the only item that I don’t move. Hanging above my fireplace, it is a steady reminder that beautiful things make life better.****

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*I never said I was cool

**It’s still there

***Possibly he’s sad I don’t have a painting of him on my life-size bedside table?

****Can I be clear - they don’t have to be expensive! Much as I love Substack so many of the product guides around seem to suggest buying a £600 whatever which I find a bit exhausting

Treasured things to put on walls and shelves

• L made me this plate rack and I just love it (sidenote: he takes commissions!)

• My brother bought me one of these (made in Wales) and I starting looking at how they are made, it all feels a bit magical

• I bought one of Cathy Cullis’ paintings, and it’s one of my favourite things

• A print made in collaboration with my friend Emma (who also went to Camberwell)

• Patricia Niven’s photographs are impossibly beautiful

• Sometimes I think you can have a bit of a rethink about what is ‘good’ enough to hang on a wall. For example, I have framed a handwritten list of my grandparents’ wedding gift list, which looks absolutely lovely. My parents hang hats on their walls, pressed flowers also look beautiful, as does a menu from a special day

• I’ve made my own wallpaper as the one I wanted was outrageously priced. I drew something and worked with Cut By Beam to make a stencil (see header image.)

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Sun + Rain

Your friend and mine Jen Ship has pulled together another excellent Good Things playlist for this month. Enjoy.

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Good things to click on:

• Haven’t tried them yet but these look like the best in the business

• My brilliant friend Kiri and her brilliant partner are fostering

• Fix me, everyone said

• What happens when your partner comes with updates you can’t control? A very thought-provoking listen

• Our rivers are in trouble. Here are some small things you can do to help. (Including - not flushing tampons!)