I have spent the last 5 years saving up for a deposit to buy a house.

It turns out houses are expensive.

And that if you don’t have a very big wage, banks don’t want to lend you very much money.

And I’m a bit snobby and I don’t want to buy any old dump. There are somethings that I just don’t want to compromise on.


I am happy though, to buy a fixer-upper. I would love to put my on stamp on place and turn a house into a home.


Home to me means safety. It means cosy. It means refuge. It means family and friends and fun.

A home should be inviting. It should be the sort of place with lots of comfy seating and good food.

I want to create my home. To build it up over time. I can’t deny I quite like IKEA but I don’t want to fill my home with it. I want to curate it, a bit of furniture from here, a painting from there, a bookcase full of charity shop finds. A hand-knitted blanket in every room, just incase someone gets chilly.

I think the best homes are homes that are lived in.

Not prestine. Not beige. Not boring.

You go in and you see washing up and piles of magazines and the throw on the sofa is wonky and there’s a mug in the side.

I’m not saying I want to live in a messy house. But I like to know that people are using and enjoying their home, not spending all their time tidying and straightening it and making it presentable. This probably works really well for some people, but for me, keeping my house to that standard would make it just that. A house.


I want a home.

I want a home I can feel safe in,

I can feel happy in.

That I can share with the people I love.

I’m not sure when I’ll get it.

But I will.


Love Charlotte xx