Philip Hooper's Georgian house in Somerset, filled with his experiments in colour and pattern
"I had always wanted to live in a Georgian house,’ explains Philip Hooper. ‘I wanted to possess those wonderful proportions, the high ceilings, the beautiful detailing.’ Though a number of them have come his way in the course of his work as a decorator (he is the joint managing director of Sibyl Colefax & John Fowler), living in one had, until 2016, eluded him.
The opportunity finally arose when he married his husband Paul, who was working in the West Country, and their search in the region brought them to a townhouse, built in 1832, next to the church on the main street of a small town in Somerset. The situation was as much a part of the appeal as the house itself. Neatly positioned between the North Somerset and South Devon coastlines, it is within reach of some of England’s loveliest countryside. On a more practical level, the particular location on the edge of a town (with a Waitrose in glorious proximity) drew them in. ‘One of the main disadvantages of living in the country is the constant worry about what happens when you run out of milk, but now I don’t even have to worry about running out of umami paste,’ Philip remarks drily.
There was never any question of structural alterations: the house’s bones were good and its listed status meant that little would have been possible anyway. They were lucky to find the original doors, fireplaces, cornices and architraves still intact. ‘All we had to deal with was questionable decoration,’ says Philip. ‘That was the biggest challenge – peeling away the layers to get back to a plain surface, on which I could then impose my own ideas.’ Not that this process has been straightforward. ‘It is a relatively big house, and it was always going to be done room by room and step by step – as time and budget permitted. It has become a bit of a laboratory for me to try out combinations and colours. In some cases, they have worked and, in others, they haven’t.’
The drawing room has been one of Philip’s main sites for experimentation and went through several colour schemes before reaching its apotheosis in yellow. ‘I never thought I would end up with a yellow and blue room, but I struggled to find something that worked with the light and the proportions. It also had to be a colour that would be a foil to the things I already had. It started off with neutral shades and then a friend, the interior designer Lucinda Griffith, came to stay one weekend and said that the colour made her feel like she was underwater. So out of devilment, I decided to do a yellow room just to see if I could pull it off.’ Unsurprisingly, he says, the heritage of Nancy Lancaster’s Yellow Room at Sibyl Colefax & John Fowler’s old headquarters on Brook Street, W1, was in his mind. ‘But I also wanted to try to put to bed my fear of certain colour combinations. I knew that I wouldn’t end up with something drab at any rate.’
Elsewhere in the house, other successful experiments with colour immediately catch the eye. In the hallway, the vivid turquoise of Little Greene Paint & Paper’s ‘Canton’ complements a de Gournay chinoiserie wallpaper in a more muted grey-blue, while a hot orange at the back of bookshelves in an alcove of the library enlivens the stone colour of the walls. ‘I thought I would just try it out,’ says Philip. ‘It worked, so I’ve left it alone and it’s a necessary feature of the room now.’
The kitchen walls also went through a few pale shades before ending up a rich tan – the perfect backdrop for a display of earth-toned ceramics in the dresser. This cheerful embrace of trial and error is rather encouraging. ‘I’ve definitely ended up being a little bit more gung-ho about it for myself than I would be for a client,’ he admits. ‘Mistakes do happen when you take that approach, but some great things, too.’
If getting the backdrop right was sometimes a tricky process, filling the generous rooms and making them inviting and interesting came easily to Philip. ‘You can always make large rooms comfortable by using the right scale of furniture and putting it together so that it chimes with my mantra – you have to have somewhere to put a drink down, somewhere to put your feet up and a light to read by.’ The last thing he wanted, however, was a house that felt too stately or pompous. ‘You need to throw in some unexpected things,’ he says. ‘You need the odd explosion of colour and playful objects – like the hand-painted lampshade in our sitting room/library and the lobster cushion on the chair in the hallway.’
It helps that Philip is the possessor of an extraordinarily varied set of collections, encompassing art, ceramics and textiles – all brought together by what he refers to as his ‘scattergun instincts’. ‘I began collecting when I was at college in Canterbury,’ he explains. ‘I bought my first pair of antique crewelwork curtains when I was 18 and hung them in my student room. I’ve still got them somewhere.’
Philip has always loved buying while travelling and sometimes ends up grouping his collections by origin. Moroccan pieces add interest to the landing, while Indian textiles and pictures line the walls of one of the guest bedrooms. ‘I love how easy it is to recall where things came from, or what the weather was like on the day I bought something in a market in India, Marrakech or America,’ he says. ‘I do find it comforting to have things around me that tell the story of where I’ve been and the things I’ve seen. It’s like living in a giant cabinet of curiosities. Even if the things don’t necessarily tie together visually, everything has an emotional link that is strong enough to make them a cohesive collection.’
After eight years of decorating, redecorating and arranging those intriguing collections, is the house finally finished? Philip is happy to admit, ‘I do now feel a sense of relief. I can go into most rooms and not be fretful or feel I have to be constantly fiddling around with things. I can relax when I’m at home rather than jumping up and down re-hanging the pictures.
Sibyl Colefax & John Fowler: sibylcolefax.com