Through the Tudor keyhole
So my house in Margate was built around 1850, and converted into flats in the 1980s. I’ve written already here about how my usual taste has changed a little in sympathy with the old building, despite it being pretty short on original features. I have wanted to rip the kitchen out and replace it with little more than a tap and a bucket. My love of Midcentury Modern is being replaced by a craving for the simplest of Victorian pieces.
I therefore understand the impulse that has led writer, photographer and shopkeeper Alastair Hendy to recreate a way of living that most of us are thankful to have dodged by, oh, 500 years. His Tudor house in Hastings appears in the Mail today, complete with an incredulous commentary along the lines of ‘why would anyone want to live like this?’ My question would be, who wouldn’t? Always wanted to sleep in a box bed…
Alastair is less a Luddite eccentric, however, than an entrepreneurial spirit with amazingly good taste. His Hastings shop was featured in The Telegraph a couple of years ago, packed with charmingly simple rustic cookware, scrubbing brushes and metal buckets. The fashionable place to go to get housemaid’s knee, in other words.
And in a previous life I met Alastair when he was a food writer and photographer, operating out of a very chic, modern-minimalist loft in Shoreditch (obvs). He wrote a piece for a magazine I worked on all about Hastings and its wonderful fishing culture. What sticks in my mind was that we had no sub-editor, so it was my fault when the story went to press with captions referring to wooden groins (as opposed to groynes) that help retain the beach pebbles. I won’t be doing that again…
Anyway, I salute Hendy’s commitment to creating a fantasy of 1500s good taste to live in. The honesty and simplicity of a Tudor house, with all its wonky warmth and hand-crafted decoration, feels like a timely antidote to high-tec, high-pressure living.
Above is Margate’s Tudor house, saved for the town and open to the public through the summer. Couldn’t you just buy a box of candles at the 7/11 and move right in?
Seriously Ros, I’m not stalking you hehe, nor am I much of a blog commenter. My Friend’s House has influenced the style I thought was finally fully evolved and with which I’ve been satisfied in my own home. Alas, I’ve been cheating on my habit of coordinating fabrics, chinoiserie and sleek modernism. About a year or so ago I found a photo of Graine-Ficelle in the French countryside and knew I had to make a huge change. That sitting room! Your blog has led me down the joyful path of a dramatic turn-about! Except for some faded toile cushions, the only pattern in my home is my blue and white porcelain, but now it sits on open shelving with old ironstone and handmade pottery. Nothing is really specifically placed, but nothing looks out of place. You and Jill are my unstyled stylists! Rounding the bend to 60, I’m thrilled I’m not stuck in the tried and true. Thanks for the inspiration! And since I tend to purchase every book you feature, the least you can do is publish a My Friend’s House volume!
Thanks Dana – I think that is the nicest comment we’ve ever had! Very much appreciate your salute to our anti-style. And as for a book… the demand is becoming overwhelming. That’s you and our Mums want one. We’ll see what we can do… x
Hear hear!
Here here! I’m looking forward to the book.
Book would be interesting, I love your blog and the mix of things discussed/discovered!
On a separate note, I thought one of you mentioned stainless steel kitchen counters but cant find anything on the blog. Did I imagine one of you saying you had ss counters? Am thinking of getting ss for our new kitchen but wanted to find out if you loved/hated it. Ta!
This is staggering, so pleased to see just one person with the purest sense of preservation. This is my dreamplace