The picture-perfect home.

I wish I were an interior designer. Having said that, last week I wanted to be a neuroscientist and a chef, so let’s just say I wish I could be a bit of everything. I’ve mentioned my love for interior design before. And my love for colour.

When hubby-to-be and I first walked into our flat, we instantly knew this was to be our home. We looked at each other in sheer excitement and pretended not to be too interested to fool the real estate agent, who didn’t fall for it. Fast-forward five years and our house isn’t really a home yet. Let me explain. We have all the furniture we need, but the rooms are not 100% the way we had pictured them. They still look a bit empty, not organised, not spotless, not super tidy. And overall, out flat just doesn’t look anything like those picture-perfect homes in magazines, with frames in exactly the right places, colour-coordinated soft furnishings and not an item of clothing in sight. Where on earth do those people store their jackets? Where do they empty their pockets? Why is there not a single crease in their sheets? Seriously, do they even live there? I think I see flaws everywhere I look because this is not only where I live, it’s also where I work. I would like my office corner to look like a high-end furniture display, but unfortunately it’s more of a mix-and-match type of thing. With lots of colour of course, including my Mondrianesque painting (for more on that click here).

If there’s one thing I do like about our home, it’s probably the one thing most visitors question: colours, everywhere. Mismatched and far too bright, but it makes me happy (hubby-to-be not so much). When I was a teenager, I would wear these neon orange or yellow jackets, while everyone else in dreary Belgium was wearing black or grey. My classmates called me fluo Amy for a good six years. I didn’t really care. Then again, I now have a predisposition for plain black dresses, tops and trousers, so I think subconsciously that innocent teasing did have an effect on me. While my wardrobe has become boring, my home has become a colouring book. I add colourful accessories wherever I can. I have to stress all the colour is in the accessories, because hubby-to-be won’t give me permission to paint the walls in my favourite shades. At least not the ones visitors see. I got my way and the bedroom wall is now bright red. And our spare bedroom will have an orange wall. His reasoning: no one ever goes in there anyway...

A few colourful touches...

Colourful boxes in my office corner

My new kitchen shelf & biscuit tins

Spring is back in town!