Collectors Edition: How Phoebe McDowell Created her Insta-Famous Flat

“Some would call it clutter but they would, of course, be wrong,” says Phoebe McDowell, an arbiter of all things stylish when it comes to the home and a matter-of-fact lover of stuff. Alongside her day job as Interiors and Beauty Director of The Sunday Times Style, she also runs the popular interiors Instagram account The Pinterior. It’s little wonder that her own home has served as inspiration for many a renovator and interiors obsessive. Filled with trinkets collected on her travels, well-thumbed hardbacks and memory-filled furniture handed down from her grandparents, we were delighted when Phoebe chose Aucoot to find the next custodian for her one-bedroom apartment in Highbury.

We visited during what we naively assumed would be the first and only heatwave of the summer, and walked into a remarkably cool and breezy home, filled with joyfully curated corners as interesting and story-filled as their owner. She talks us through the vignettes that make her home her own.

I shouldn’t tell you that my favourite thing is something that I wasn’t responsible for: the view from my kitchen window. Tens of trees and an enormous, unruly bed of ivy that my green-fingered friend couldn’t believe I wasn’t going to rip out and replace with tulips. It begs me to crack open the window, especially when it rains, when the whole place fills with noise. Crazy cosy.

It’s also a great flat for entertaining because of the open plan kitchen and living room. People spill everywhere: onto the sofa, into the chairs, along the kitchen banquette. And they help themselves to drinks from the built-in bar, which feels mildly decadent.

I love art. It crept up on me, then shook me by the shoulders, and now I’d happily never buy another handbag if it meant I could add a piece to my collection. I enlisted Lizzie Dixey from The Art Register. She’s an art concierge, which sounds way fancier than it is – and, having now said ‘collection’ and ‘art concierge’, I should probably clarify that mine is very modest and she’s very affordable. The two men above my sofa, both on the phone – perhaps to each other – are by Jonathan Schofield. Above my bed is another man – so many men – is by Morag Caister.

I’ve also got some photographs which, thanks to the framers Facility in Dalston, now qualify as art. They’re absurdly good with colour, materials and compositions. I’m not mad on modern day photos in homes – except in downstairs loos, which are made for them. But vintage black and white? Absolutely. Mine are of my grandparents – two tiny black and white photos, barely bigger than postage stamps, in the middle of a giant stainless steel frame, surrounded by acres of white space. The proportions are all wrong which is precisely why it works.

I approached with zero caution and instead went wild. It’s long and skinny and gets next to no natural light, so rather than fight that, I drenched it in high-gloss ochre and mirrored the doors of my shoe cupboard. The effect is somewhere between a funhouse and the inside of a Quality Street wrapper.

I had the runner made by a company in India called Mohini Creations, who you can send any design and dimensions to. Mine is based on a 1930s Swedish design I saw online and subsequently found on 1st Dibs for the sum of £13,000. Mine was 95% less.

I wanted a harmonious palette that worked throughout. That sounds obvious, but it matters in a small space: you’re in the next room before you’ve properly left the last, so you’re constantly aware of how the colours sit together. The book arch was the place to be bold, so I went for Farrow & Ball’s Preference Red, an oxblood shade that’s impossible to ignore. I used all Farrow & Ball throughout, drenching every room – radiators included – mostly in Dead Flat, its super matte finish, which gives the colours real depth.

The fact that I was never really supposed to do a renovation at all. Not to this degree, anyway. I’d set my sights on a new kitchen and bathroom. I had not anticipated ripping everything out and starting again but… once you start you can’t stop. It looked so fine, so livable when I looked round. Ha!

A significant chunk of my budget went on lights, and rightly so – they do so much heavy lifting. I wanted to bring stainless steel into the kitchen without going the whole hog and lighting was the perfect way to do it. There’s an articulated one above the kitchen table that came from Sweden, via Vinterior, and three bell-shaped wall lights on brass arms by Manchester-based Nocturne Workshop.

Above my mantlepiece are two mid-century iron lights with yellow shades that I got from The Peanut Vendor – I religiously check the newsletter every time it lands in my inbox. And because you can never ever have too many lamps, I also have pieces from Nicola Harding, eBay, Hum (I love everything they do!).

I’m not very interested in rules. I want to be surrounded by Christmas and thank you cards, Japanese figurines that I picked up for a pound at a market, and all the other odd little things that have followed me home over the years. Some would call it clutter but they would, of course, be wrong.

My grandparents’ Vico Magistretti sofa, which they bought in 1962. It holds decades of family history – conversation, parties, arguments and everything in between. It’s still in impeccable nick (don’t make ‘em like they used to, etc.) with the original ridged, felt upholstery. Everyone I love most has sat on it.

Thanks to Phoebe for showing us around.

Follow her on The Pinterior and view the listing below.