I’ve often said that the minute the clocks go back in October, I turn into a modern-day hobbit adopting old-world sensibilities. We may be surrounded by modern conveniences, but the primal urge to store up, strip back and hunker down to hibernate still kicks in, regardless of our access to 24 hour shopping. Part of that urge is certainly a mixture of necessity – there are a multitude of practical reasons why we, like our ancestors before us, have learned to adjust our routines and habits to align with the changing seasons. For me, however, that genuine need for sensible solutions in anticipation of colder, wetter months is also combined with a huge dose of pastoral romanticism.
For instance, as a garden lover, the act of pickling the late autumn remnants of my vegetable garden spoils provides a pleasingly wholesome pursuit, reducing waste and extending the joy of the growing season. Similarly, I make sure my pantry is well stocked with nourishing store-cupboard essentials that will see me through days when I’d rather remain indoors; pulses and grains to form the basis for soups and stews, oats, pasta, rice and, of course, nuts – the underrated nutritional powerhouses packed with healthy fats, fibre, vitamins and minerals.
Winter is all about those versatile and inexpensive items that can quickly become hearty meals, prepared in a variety of ways as needed. And yes, alongside the practical, I like to make my pantry look attractive and as coordinated as possible, like an updated version of a pantry Elizabeth Bennett might have been familiar with – except she probably didn’t have a self-adhesive label maker! It’s comforting rituals like these that mark the change of the season. For me, familiar patterns are an integral part of getting organised to make the transition into winter as easy and cosy as possible.
I live in a house filled with fireplaces, so ensuring that the outside log store is full to the brim and that each room has a basket filled with logs, kindling and firelighters is one of the most reassuring of seasonal comfort tasks. This includes remembering to book a visit from the local chimney sweep, cleaning the log burners (a wet rag with added ash is a weird but effective way of cleaning the inside glass), and the satisfying act of clearing out old ash from the open fire grates.
Like packing away summer clothing and checking the Wellington boot collection for holes and spiders, these may sound like mundane moments, but as the days grow shorter and the chill of winter creeps in, there’s a certain magic in transforming our homes into warm, inviting sanctuaries, even when some tasks are more monotonous than others.
I’ve always been one for embracing the comforts of the season, wrapping myself and my home in layers of texture, colour and warmth. In fact, I’ve always believed that fashion and interiors go hand in hand when it comes to seasonal living. We’re told that the first step in creating a winter-ready wardrobe is to master the art of layering, and it’s no different for how I treat my home. As a seasonal decorator, I like to think of my rooms as a canvas where the soft textures and rich colours of winter can come together to evoke warmth the minute the first fire needs to be drawn. In my wardrobe, out comes the tweed and corduroy, and at home, I’ll fling a few beautiful quilts and vintage throws over the backs and arms of chairs to join the summer ginghams and lighter florals that are already providing the base layers.
My layering goes beyond just textiles; it extends to surfaces, too. In anticipation of less time spent outdoors and more evenings by a glowing fire, I ensure my favourite coffee table books are within easy reach, stacked up on the ottoman or side tables. I swap over candles to winter scents like nutmeg and myrrh, and I make sure there’s always a few board games – backgammon, chess – or a deck of cards on hand for guests and family alike. Nothing speaks more to hunkering down for an evening in winter than a friendly game of cards played over a gently snoozing dog.
It’s not only texture that needs updating; winter also calls for an adjusted colour palette. I embrace deep, richer hues that reflect the season’s beauty – forest greens, warm burgundies and rich browns that mirror the fallen leaves cascading onto the lawn for weeks. I crave colours that not only evoke the season but also create a harmonious, cohesive look throughout my home, including the bedrooms. There’s no point trying to fight the darkness of my north-facing bedroom, so I fully embrace the lower light, with darker shades woven into my eiderdowns and quilted bedding. This creates a warm, inviting palette, making my bedroom feel more intimate, especially when lit by candles and lamps.
As daylight dwindles and lighting becomes crucial for creating a warm atmosphere, I routinely reconsider my lighting sources throughout the home, with lamps reigning supreme. Candles, too, are essential in my winter transition, and I’m not ashamed to say that I even have a candle drawer filled with a variety of colours and sizes to suit every occasion, whether it’s to add atmosphere to a dinner table or a welcoming glow to the entrance hall. From traditional pillar candles to whimsical tea lights, flickering flames always create an enchanting ambiance, making them a permanent part of my hibernation kit.
Preparing my home for winter is about more than just aesthetics; it’s about creating a sanctuary where my family and I can feel at ease, surrounded by beauty and warmth. By stocking up, embracing layering, adding rich colours and inviting lighting, I aim to transform Hill House into a haven of comfort. So, as the world outside turns crisp and cold, my home becomes an organised refuge of warmth, laughter and joy, ready for all the magic winter has to offer.
