This year, our Christmas tree is ridiculously big. Come to think of it, it was ridiculously big last year, too. The idea of plonking a Fraser Fir in the middle of one’s house is so bizarre, we may as well embrace the crazy, and go all out. That’s my view, anyway. Until I am wrestling with the lights, sweeping up one million needles, and crying over smashed ornaments again. It isn’t Christmas without a few major (adult) tantrums. It isn’t Christmas if I haven’t muttered under my breath that we’re sticking branches in a vase next year. I’m not quite sure why I do it on this scale –– is it nostalgia? fantasy? an overachiever complex? –– but I know that once Big Bertha is up, baubles on every bough, she is a sight to behold. We live in a narrow Victorian in south Annex, and our tree belongs at the White House. And I bet my turkey dinner that our topper is better.

If there was ever any doubt about filling a room with furniture from every decade, just look at decorator, Nicky Haslam’s beautifully cozy parlour. With pieces sourced from local auctions and markets, his Costwold’s home is an ode to eclecticism. The blinds are ‘Shutter Stripe’ from his Random Harvest collection for Turnell & Gigon, and the sofa and antique chair are adorned with cushions fashioned from remnants of French floral linen. I love the mix of fancy fringe, wicker and wood. “The point of decorating is to make those who are in it look prettier and feel more at ease,” says Haslam. “A room should make you want to smile without knowing it as you enter.”

An English country house the colour of freshly churned butter.

Lucie Howson’s colourful nudes.

Flatware by Josef Hoffmann.

Painting on a pillow.

Swiss artist, Max Bill‘s concrete sculpture, “Kontinuität” (Continuity).

I love the salmon pink of these walls. So much of my love for specific colours loops back to childhood. My grandparent’s rented a cottage in Bermuda that was just this shade of salmon. The roof and windows were painted a chalky white, and the house was surrounded by luscious shades of green. We loved that house, and spent many happy days there. They later rented a house that was more of a sherbet pink, and then an apartment in town that was stark white. None were as charming as the little salmon cottage. I learned to ride a bike there, and I picked baby bananas off trees.

Textile designer, Molly Mahon’s exuberant Sussex cottage.

Maron’s marigold wallpaper.

Cushions that look like Licorice Allsorts.

Saint George Monastery in Jericho.

Carving a scalloped edge.

A boardwalk in Rio de Janeiro, photographed by René Burri, 1958.