It’s amaryllis season, and few flowers have the decadence and drama of a dark red amaryllis. My Mum used to buy bunches of them on December 20th to ensure that by Christmas Eve our table was adorned with a dozen amaryllis in full bloom. I love the flower’s thick, leek like stem and the way the petals feel like velvet. Most of all, I love that they remind me of a kitchen full of friends, food and flowers, laughing, singing and dancing well past midnight.

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.”