My bed almost didn’t fit through the front door. Like, literally. I had to tilt it up on its side to get it in the room, then dismantle the headboard so that I could maneuver the mattress around that stupid corner in my hallway.
I was moving myself in with my friend Sarah’s help, and by the time we’d finished heaving stuff into place we were sweaty piles of exhaustion, questioning my life choices. Tiny bedrooms, though. They make you inventive.
In large rooms, you can get away with lazy decorating. You position your furniture however you think it looks good on your imaginary blueprint, and voila.
Small rooms force you to be strategic about where everything goes.
Literally every piece of furniture or decor has to justify its place in the room. It took me a few… experiments before I learned that last lesson. When I first moved in, I was dead set on replicating one of those magical bedroom setups I’d pinned on Pinterest.
Flying nightstands! Dreamy wing chairs! Houseplants draping from every surface!
Pretty. No. Work those would have looked in my 9×10 bedroom, where opening the wardrobe door required me to climb over the bed.
One of my first purchases was this beautiful upholstered bench at the end of my bed. It had looked so chic in the magazine I bought it from, so I assumed it would translate to real life. Spoiler alert: stubbed my toe on that bench about a million times before I realised it served zero purpose other than being a clothes dump.
Bam! Immediate closet donation. Bench-gate taught me a valuable lesson about furnishing a small bedroom.
If something doesn’t serve at least two purposes, it doesn’t belong. These days I’m strict with myself about that rule. The bench found its way straight out of my house and was replaced by this storage ottoman that lifts up to store winter bedding and out-of-season clothing.
Same size footprint, triple the usefulness. BEDSIDES. The bedside table conundrum was making me absolutely crazy.
Normal ones were too bulky and shoved into the room like insane. I started with wall shelves, which kind of worked but looked awkwardly levitating next to the bed without anything on them. Enter these skinny console tables from Wayfair.
They’re only 8” deep, so they slide neatly up against the bed without creating any clutter. One has a drawer which I use for charging cords and glasses, while the other doesn’t have a drawer but does have a shelf underneath which I use for my water bottle. …the book situation. When I first moved in I had stacks of books on the floor next to my bed because I was Running Out Of Ideas At That Point.
Once I learned to use my vertical space wisely by installing these shelves above my bed, I found myself with cupboard-style storage that didn’t take up any precious floor space. I keep books, succulents, and a few sentimental objects up there that draw the eye upward and make my bedroom feel more customised rather than cluttered. OK, lighting.
Table lamps were too bulky to fit on my nightstands, and overhead lighting was brutally unflattering. I ended up getting these swing-arm wall lanterns on either side of the bed that not only give me ample reading light but swing right back against the wall when they’re not in use. Total damage for both?
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Around £80, plus the cost of having an electrician come-install them. SO worth the function they provide. Need I say more?
The original wardrobe was criminally small. Not only was the built-in shallow, it wasn’t designed well. One hanging rod, no shelves, bad lighting.
I gutted the whole thing and had a closet-organisation system installed with dual hanging rods as well as drawers and shelves to maximise my (already reasonable) storage space. Having those pull-out drawers was a game-changer for me because I can see everything I own rather than digging through darkness and coming up empty for matching socks. Under-bed storage had to happen.
And had to be smart. Generic storage boxes weren’t going to roll easily under the bed, plus I didn’t want some hideous plastic buckets sticking out underneath my sleepsurface. These under-bed storage containers are nice and low, have wheels to help them slide around, and are just cute enough to peek out from underneath the bed without making the room feel cluttered.
Bed totally lifts up on these risers (they’re so thin you can’t even really tell!) to create just enough clearance to fit them. Colour scheme. Haha okay, this isn’t a reinvention of my decor but it deserves some mention.
Paint colour is everything in a small bedroom. I painted mine a warm, cozy grey and it makes the room feel so cuddle bug rather than confined. I considered going white because it opens up a space so well, but practicality won.
I would be banging that wall and those drawers every.single.day if I lived in a white room, so grey it was! Mirror is my friend. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard about the wonders of adding a large mirror to open up a small space.
It works. sort of. There’s just some técnica that you need when choosing where to hang that bad boy. I hung mine on the wall opposite my window at first, which did help reflect light but also just multiplied the amount of bed I was seeing.
As soon as I moved it parallel to the window, it worked like a charm! Same goes for curtains. That window is INSIDE an inch of my bed, which means floor-length curtains would’ve been bumping up against my pillows.
Not a vibe. I went with Roman shades instead to minimise losing daylight and maximise headspace. LESS IS MORE.
Guys…this is the part I learned the hardest. Tiny bedrooms do not need seven pillows and twenty-seven succulents crammed into their limited square footage.
I know it hurts.
I love decorations too! Trim back. Edit yourself.
Choose one fantastic piece of art rather than three smaller ones that don’t have much impact. Invest in one fabulous plant and let it steal the show rather than cluttering every surface with cute but cramped greenery. Trust me, your room will thank you.
Proof that my bedroom functions as an actual livable space for humans and not just a stupid cute photo op: my sister spent a weekend sleeping in there not too long ago. She floated around with ease, had ample space to store her suitcase and hang up her coat, and didn’t feel smushed. It wasn’t until that moment that I realised I’d actually succeeded in making my bedroom work for me.
Once your space works as a livable environment for someone other than yourself? You’ve cracked the tiny bedroom code.
