Keeping up with the Camerons

Forget Downing Street. Debora Robertson on how David and Samantha Cameron epitomise a new kind of modern rustic chic

We pored over their Downing Street kitchen – from the Ikea cabinet, River Cottage cookbooks and Jamie Oliver pans, to the virgin coconut oil and Maldon sea salt – so far, so upper-middle-townie essentials. And now we’re pressing our noses against the windows of their house in the Cotswolds.

David and Samantha Cameron are at home.

In an interview for Harper’s Bazaar, Samantha describes their “cottage” thus: “To be honest, it’s slightly falling down. The windows are rotting, the roof needs replacing, but it’s lovely… It’s our family nest.”

First of all, maximum points for the faux modesty to go with the faux fur throw. Calling it a cottage is reminiscent of American Wasps of the Gilded Age who chucked up ocean-front mansions and coyly called them “cottages” (I’m looking at you, Cornelius Vanderbilt II).

David and Samantha Cameron’s country retreat is a solid house in Cotswold stone, smothered in rambling roses and surrounded by a pretty garden.

You wouldn’t be at all surprised to see Chief Inspector Barnaby turn up at the door in an episode of Midsomer Murders (come for the tangled tale of murder, stay for the idyllic scenes of English village life).

To the eyes of traditional Cotswold dwellers, as opposed to the more-recently-arrived Chipping Norton Set (to include the Camerons, Rebekah and Charlie Brooks, Jeremy Clarkson, Elizabeth Murdoch and Alex James, cheesemaker-in-chief: possible collective noun “A Weekender”), the look is a little too clean and too cream.

Even the Camerons’ sooty fireplace borders on too artful. The soft pink pom-pom lights above it are the same shade as the roses in the painting on the chimney breast that reflect the roses that romp around outside. The Peaceful: Samantha Cameron sits outside the shepherd’s hut where husband David goes to write sitting room is inviting, with its smart soft furnishings and bibelots, many of them from OKA, the furnishing business of Samantha’s mother, Lady Astor – it’s a sort of one-stop tasteful decorating shop for the well-heeled – but it is perhaps too well done for the posh purist.

Rachel Johnson described a perfect scene of upper-class smart when she was visited at home by Ben Budworth, to be interviewed for the job of editor of The Lady: “He walked in and was clearly checking out the sitting room. He looked over the decaying antiques, our ripped sofa, decrepit armchairs and books scattered all over the place. Then he nodded with satisfaction and said; ‘This is shabby. Just right.’”

In real Cotswold life, the muddy boots in the hall are more likely to come from the farm supply store than Dubarry, the Barbours more hand-me-down knackered than catwalk crisp, and their poacher’s pockets may well have played host to a rabbit or two.

But the modern Cotswold set are more likely to have a shepherd’s hut than sheep. Famously, David Cameron bought just such a hut in which to write his memoirs. Or, as most of us would call it: get away from the kids.

The Camerons’ sitting room is an excellent example of the complex and ever-changing politics of country chic. It epitomises the new rules for rural living – which is a bit cleaner and more polished, sweeter smelling with better heating and plumbing, than the traditional. If you’d like to emulate it yourself, this is how to achieve the modern rustic chic look…

How to do Cotswolds Modern

Things that hint at travel

DO have Indian throws, Moroccan rugs, vintage French cushions – surround yourself with chic objects you picked up on your travels. If your great-grandmother picked them up on her travels, even better. It makes you look interesting even when the conversation gets boring. DON’T Have anything matchy-matchy. It’s a bit too Real Housewives of Cheshire.

DO dot it around the place. It can be gruesomely whimsical – a moth-eaten crow or an otter missing a foot, maybe.

DON’T use anything that’s too obviously killed by you – there’s nothing more guaranteed to put your townie weekend visitors off their kedgeree/avo on toast.

Pile on the paintings

DO go for quantity or quality. If the paintings are terrible, have loads of them and make it look deliberate. If you only have one or two, make sure that they’re really good. Modern pieces are excellent for show-offs. DON’T go for try-hard fakery. In his golden eyrie atop Trump Tower, the US president has Renoir’s La Loge hanging over his desk. Except he doesn’t – the real thing is in London’s Courtauld Institute.

Don’t be like Donald.

‘To be honest, it’s slightly falling down. The windows are rotting, but it’s lovely’

Mind your beeswax

DO be careful how you clean – yes to beeswax, no to Febreze. DON’T under any circumstances

be seduced by one of those aroma diffusers that are a bunch of twigs in a jar – a single boisterous swipe of a Labrador’s tail can erase the centuries-old scent patina of polished floorboards, woodsmoke and Sunday roasts.

For God’s sake, have a telly

DO follow the Camerons’ lead and be out and proud with a big telly. Not having a telly is a bit Brighton reiki master (we all know they download it on to their laptops, anyway). DON’T be that person.

Rattan on the floor

DO go for seagrass, rattan or coir matting. It grubs up quickly so it looks like you’ve always had it, and looks great with all those rugs you dragged back from Morocco. DON’T be seduced by fitted shag pile, no matter what your cool Shoreditch cousin is telling you.

Books

DO go big on books – and magazines, auction catalogues, newspapers – stacked up on tables, tumbling from the shelves. The Camerons’ sitting room: think polished and sweet-smelling, not rustic DON’T even think about “rainbow shelving” them, ie, organising them by their spine colours, if want to show your face at the village fête again.

Ensure a warm front

DO have fireplaces in as many rooms as possible. A capacious log basket

à la Samcam is essential. Ideally, you chop the logs yourself – it makes up for not having a gym within 20 miles. DON’T even think about putting in a fake gas fire.

Lots of lamps

DO go big with floor, table, and reading lamps. DON’T consider a central light, aka “the Big Light”, as a sole source of illumination. It’s a bit too Peter Kay.

The full interview appears in the September issue of Harper’s Bazaar, on sale today