Better than a floor-drobe
A friend asked me recently for some advice. Now asking for advice from friends is not a bad move, per se, but asking for advice from friends when it comes to their profession can open a can of worms. I’m generally very happy to help - although I have learnt over the years, with both paid and unpaid advice, people don’t always take it. Whereas in the past I have been mortally wounded by this, (what can I say, I’m a sensitive soul deep down) I have grown a bit of a thicker skin and learnt some better ways to approach the situation.
I used to go into excited puppy mode - someone was asking me? What I thought about my chosen subject? I would wax lyrical about the latest trends, the things I had hyper-focused on that week, everything I’d learnt about a new process of manufacture, a new place I had sourced for homewares, the philosophy of furniture positioning. At each point, as my excitement grew to be given an outlet, I could see the person's eyes glazing and their body language shifting. This wasn’t what they wanted. This was too much. They’d only asked about blue paint, not chapter and verse on the history of ultramarine.
So I learnt a better way, which I believe made me a better designer. My first response is to ask questions. What did you have in mind? What kind of thing do you already have and why don’t you like it? I get a better sense of how to answer, how to steer in the right direction and can tailor my response accordingly.
And so when my friend asked for advice about wardrobes, I paused. ‘What’s wrong with what you already have?’ I asked. Turns out (and this is probably the reason why we are friends) that we had similar tastes. I find traditional wardrobes awful. Large, cumbersome, space-hogging, eyesores. I feel them towering over me in the middle of the night while I’m sleeping. Obviously this is just my personal opinion. Most likely, this comes from oversized wardrobes in too-small bedrooms as a little kid. Or maybe trying to house too much stuff, when maybe I need to do some serious outfit culling - the wardrobe becoming a talisman to my guilty purchases, to the things I cannot but should part with. But whatever the reason I am always on the lookout to find alternatives. Some of my searches have led me down the retail options (I trained as a visual merchandiser); high end outlets often have interesting ways of displaying their delightful goods that can often be replicated at home. I once saw an excellent display in Liberty that inspired my own simple wooden A-frame rail.
We got to a good place, my friend and I. She isn’t fond of traditional wardrobes either, plus she has the luxury of alcoves. Creating a wardrobe alternative in an alcove uses the space to the maximum - full width, floor to ceiling options. The one thing I advised? Measure the depth of your alcove using a hanger, that way you can see how much they will or won’t stick out. Not all alcoves are deep enough to house the width of a hanger, which is good to know when it comes to positioning your curtain rail/how it fits into your overall aesthetic.
Ultimately the solution should suit your space, your life and the amount you need to store. I believe it should be modular and specific. Hanging rails where you can reach them. Shelves if you need them, drawers that are actually useful. Doors are optional. Curtains or blinds can work just as well, with the bonus of colour, pattern and texture. Below I’ve gathered a few inspiring images and as ever with our blog posts, I’ve created a pinterest board which explores even more.
