When I moved into my 92-square-foot bedroom (yes, I am one of those people who measures their bedroom dimensions religiously – I couldn’t believe how small it was! ), I panicked. I went from having a fairly spacious room in my shared flat to what basically amounted to a broom closet with some extra breathing room and a window. But you know what?
I learned more about creating a space that actually felt like home in that tiny bedroom than I ever did when I lived in all those sprawling (and frankly way nicer) rooms before it. Ahead, the thoughtful and strategic design decisions that helped me make that 92-square-foot room truly feel like my own. First of all, when I moved in I did what any logically sane person would do – I hung up all my art, squeezed my giant armchair in there (wrong move), and attempted to style my bed with three throw pillows because ? ???
Layering, am I right? Wrong.
It felt cluttered and chaotic.
I felt anxious every time I entered the room. So I took everything down. Literally emptied out the room.
Started fresh. Sat in the centre of my beige box and thought about what actually makes me feel at home. Home, not cool on Pinterest.
Home. What are the things that make me feel calm when I’m anxious, happy when I wake up, like this tiny piece of the universe belongs to me? It wasn’t what I thought.
Not sexy throw pillows or matching rugs or even that art I loved so much. Here’s what I did instead: Paint one wall. And only one wall.
I learned the magic of paint from the sage green disaster of my first flat (coloured walls = game changer), but when working with a small space, you have to be strategic. I wanted a warm, dusty pink colour. It sounds gross, I promise it doesn’t look gross.
It reminds me of that magical shade that the sky takes on during summer nights when you’re sitting on your balcony with a bottle of wine and everything feels like it could happen. It’s called “Setting Plaster” by Farrow & Ball but I got the Dulux equivalent because fuck paying £89 for a tin of paint amirite? This one lone wall of colour became my guide rail.
If it didn’t complement that wall, it wasn’t coming home with me. Texture is where it got emotional for me. I own a quilt that my grandmother handmade for me years ago.
Well, technically she made it for my doggies when they were puppies, but I stole it from them. It’s an unassuming blue and cream patchwork quilt that she sewed by hand one winter while watching repeats of Coronation Street. For years I kept it folded up in my linen closet because it didn’t feel bougie enough to display in one of my trendy, carefully-curated rooms.
But when I threw it over the foot of my bed in that little room, it instantly became my favourite thing. Suddenly my bedroom didn’t just *feel* homey, it *looked* homey. Not perfectly styled or something you’d see in a magazine – it looked and felt like a real lived-in human habitat.
So I layered on one more piece of texture: a small jute rug next to my bed. Nothing crazy over-sized, just large enough so my feet don’t hit the cold floor when I slide out of bed in the morning. This one was about £35 from a local homewares store.
You Might Also Like
Totally worth the upfront cost for the cozy factor it adds. As for furniture – space is at such a premium in a 92-square-foot room that *everything* has to pull its weight. In hindsight, I obviously shouldn’t have tried to fit my giant armchair in there, but I digress.
The floating nightstand / desk combo was a game changer. IKEA hack if you must know – their LACK wall shelf mounted up with some heavy duty brackets underneath to support it. Not only does it store all my books and hold my laptop, it clears up floor space AND you can’t even see it from the bedroom door.
Magic. Bookcases on either side of the window served as storage (obviously) and display space. Not just for books but for small plants, a few random objects that I love, and crucially storage baskets on the bottom shelf for those weird junk items that would otherwise clutter up my floor.
The trick with small rooms is to keep your top shelves light. Really heavy objects up top make the ceiling feel *lower*. Ok but here’s where I really hacked my small room to feel like cozy home: lighting.
Ceiling lights are the absolute worst when it comes to making your room feel like a home. Replace them with dimmer switches (£15 and super easy if you’re handy with a screwdriver!) and add three other sources of light. Table lamp on my floating shelf, string lighting around my window frame (FYI NOT fairy lights!
Warm toned LED strip lights), and yes – one of those salt lamps everyone poo-poos but that actually does give off the nicest warm glow. Art is tough when you’re working with limited wall space. You really have to commit to every single piece.
So I chose three small prints – all by the same artist so they matched in style and colour palette with my pink accent wall – and hung them close together above my bed. They’re photos of old European doorways. You guys I sound like such a boomer but I legit look at those pictures and think of all the travel I want to do one day.
I look at them every time I wake up and they take me somewhere else. Strategic plants are a must. One large plant to one side of the room (I have a rubber tree that’s miraculously still alive under my questionable watering skills) and then three small succulents on my windowsill.
That’s it. You start creeping into indoor jungle territory with any more than that and it stops feeling homey and starts feeling like…well, a jungle. The biggest takeaway from decorating my little nest?
If something wasn’t serving a purpose or making me feel happy every time I looked at it, it didn’t belong in my bedroom.
Sure, my brass mirror I found at a car boot sale matched my brass bed frame. Yes, the books I kept on my shelves are ones I love to re-read again and again.
And of course, the ceramic bowl I drop my earrings into every night was pretty enough that I didn’t hate it poking out of my closet. That wool throw has been through every Netflix and chicken nug with me marathon, so of course I loved snuggling under it every night too. People started telling me how homey my bedroom looked six months after I moved in.
Not stylish or “nice” – homey. That was my goal. My bedroom wasn’t pretending to be anything other than what it was: my home.
It wasn’t curated to look like someone I’m not… it was a reflection of my real life, my actual taste, and my daily routines. And when I moved into my larger bedroom years later, that’s what I transferred with me. It doesn’t matter how much square footage you have to work with – it matters that you make *your* home wherever you lay your head down at night.
