THE HOME FRONT
REBECCA WAKEFIELD IS AT THE PLANNING STAGE OF HER RENOVATION AND LEARNING TO GET IT RIGHT WITHOUT ENDLESS DIY-STORE DASHES My new home will be the first time I’ve had the luxury of planning works ahead of starting
I have historically sprinted though the renovation process in my own homes, purely out of necessity. Our first flat, a small two-bed, ex-council above a fried chicken shop in Peckham was pretty much unliveable when we got the keys. We moved in anyway (three cheers for youth and naivety) and began the extensive renovations ourselves, washing our dishes in the bath and waking up each morning in frosty conditions with a thick layer of brick dust covering both us and our mattress on the floor. We had a tight budget and most decisions I made were driven by the little money left in our account. The finish was average at best, a complete lack of both skill and patience serves as a fatal combination for decorating and DIY.
Our next home was a probate purchase, last touched in the 1960s. Four weeks after move-in, we found out I was expecting. Again, I existed for weeks in a sub-zero building site, having stripped everything back to brick, this time the relentless sickness of the first and second trimesters adding insult to injury. Eventually, nesting mode took a violent hold of me (and consequently the builders) and we sped through design decisions and installations. The main driver was now lead times – I was choosing in-stock items over the ones I wanted, something
I completely forbid in my design work for clients. Hypocrisy at its finest.
My new home and project will be the first time I have personally had the luxury of planning the works ahead of starting them. Sitting in my warm office, without the constant ear-splitting shriek of a circular saw, it almost feels as if something is awry. I am not tearing down to Screwfix every day to purchase the least offensive door handles or threshold strip I can find on order of a builder. I have breathing space to get to grips with the house, its orientation and little quirks.
I am currently working with Detail Architects on the planning drawings. Thrillingly, we’ve created a facade that is sympathetic to the house’s 1930s history but borrows interesting architectural features from the surrounding buildings: a zinc canopy along the width of the house, a dormer with a round window, the perfect mix of red brick and render. I am impatiently willing this vision to come to life; but practicing what I preach, I remind myself that good things come to those who wait. Unless, of course, your waiting room is in a state of disrepair. In which case, good things come to those who make quick decisions and order those in-stock doorknobs.