Imogen Shaw: ‘My room is not for the faint-hearted’

When I’ve mentioned to anyone that I’ve been writing an article about interior design, they have laughed. I apologise if this doesn’t fill you with confidence. There are some people who can live in a room and keep it looking really, really nice. I am not one of those people. Yesterday I got out of bed and accidentally put my foot through the lid of a cheap biscuit tin I left on the floor. As I hobbled to the bathroom, I tripped over a suitcase that’s still hanging wide open as we approach week five. My room is not for the faint-hearted. Nevertheless, as I always reassure my parents when they come down to visit, it has a certain ‘lived-in’ charm. If you happen to glance up from the floor you can’t really see anyway, you’ll notice that the cork boards, mantelpiece, windowsill and desk are all, I like to think, quite nicely laid out.

Considering I arrived having put very little thought, preparation or extra money towards decorating my room, I’m classing that as an achievement. In fact, a considerable number of items adorning my walls and desk space were entirely free. This leads me to my first and effectively sole advice for decorating student accommodation without spending money: hoard stuff. If you’ve done anything at all over the last couple of years, you will have accumulated a significant number of items sufficient to stick on a wall.

On my walls I have, in no particular order, last year’s Halloween costume, an A3 poster from the general election, a couple of ‘poems’ I wrote when I was nine, an unusually fancy carrier bag I kept because the company logo had my name in it, and assorted pictures of family and friends, looking assorted degrees of lovely and ridiculous. These things have the dual benefit of costing nothing and representing a lot. I see them when I look around my room, desperate for inspiration to write my weekly essay: “the peerless poet [...] coupleth the general notion with the particular example.” Discuss the uses of the general and the particular in sixteenth-century sonnets.”

My free wall decorations provide no inspiration, because they do not in any way pertain to sixteenth century sonneteers. But they remind me of all the great times when I haven’t had to write essays about sixteenth century sonneteers, which is almost as important. If you want to personalise the place where you’ll live at university, it’s cheaper and so much more effective to take your mementos, pictures, ephemera, junk, and arrange it all semi-artistically across available surfaces. When I’m alone in my room, I’m surrounded by old jokes, achievements, memories, friends, and the knowledge that I can do a conceptual Halloween costume better than almost anyone I know. Better than a department store throw-rug any day.

 

Emer O’Hanlon: ‘Walls are empty spaces waiting to be filled’

Rooms in Cambridge are a pretty mixed bag – and I use ‘pretty’ in both senses of the word. When I came to stay for my interview, I was given a stunning room. On the top floor of one of the older buildings, it was quiet and quaint (heart-shaped key holes!) with a lovely view. I knew in the back of my head that I wouldn’t be able to afford a room like that (if I ever got in, that was) but from then until I eventually arrived, when I imagined what life in Cambridge would be like, I couldn’t help picturing myself in that room. Well, fast forward to a couple of years later, and things are a bit different. I’ve been relatively lucky with my rooms, but I can’t help feeling envious of those with sets, mahogany desks and marble-top kitchen islands (I can feel the disbelief – these do exist in some colleges!) However, if we can’t all have the cloisters and fireplaces John Kemp has in Jill, we can at least try to make the best of what we’re given. Take the furniture. Unlike the plump armchairs we sink into during supervisions, we’re designated the more utilitarian desk chairs and the even uglier ‘sofas’. My advice - invest in some throws. These are available at all ends of the price spectrum, so spend as much as you’re willing to. Throws add colour to a room, and turn ugly furniture into something much more palatable. I have two which I periodically switch between my armchair and desk chair. It lends a little excitement to my day anyway.

It goes without saying that walls are empty spaces waiting to be filled. Posters are nice, but postcards are just as fun and more affordable. Not to mention you have the added pleasure of painstakingly arranging them against one another. If you can, pinch interesting pictures or ornaments from home. Be wary, though: do you want to be known as that person with tapestries and stags’ heads in their room?

Bunting is all the rage at the minute, but steer clear from the over-priced offerings in John Lewis or Paperchase. Instead, get creative and make your own. If you can knit or crochet, finding patterns for simple triangles on the internet is easy-peasy, and because you won’t be wearing it, you don’t have to worry about the quality of the fibres. Tiger has a great selection of cheap yarns perfect for this sort of thing. Alternatively, buy some quirky card and ribbon, and fashion something unique. Embellish it with stickers and other silly accoutrements. If you have a fridge in your room, cover it with magnets. Mine is reserved for the flyers of the plays I’ve seen each term. String LED fairy lights (battery powered, so they’re within college rules) around windows or fireplaces – places like Ikea have very reasonable offerings.

Although it’s not decorating per se, I’ll finish by talking about light. Windows are vital in a room and, depending on what kind fate has dealt you, can become your best friend or worst enemy. If yours let in lots of light, then rejoice! Make a feature of it. If not, don’t despair. Keep the colour scheme as bright as possible, and tie back your curtains to let in as much light as you can. Treat yourself to a new lamp. My own cost £4, and has made such a difference to my life this term. Its warmer tone helps me to switch off at night, and I can turn it on in the late afternoon without feeling that it’s night-time already.

It’s all very well to give tips, but ultimately, decorating is a personal venture. My books, both the academia and the entertainment, haphazardly piled wherever I can find space, are as much a piece of decoration as my carefully collaged noticeboard, and my sprawling tea collection makes me feel more at home than any amount of tidying could. Rather than trying to win points for skill or effort, make decorating your room about creating a space you feel happy and at home in.

Meg Honigmann: ‘If fairy lights are too tacky for you...’

Plants:
A good idea, but only ones that don’t die within a week. Succulents and mini cacti are your best bet. Try the Flower House just over Magdalene Bridge.

Storage:
If you don’t have enough storage in your room, and lets face it, most of us don’t, a simple and extremely cheap way to create storage is to buy a cheap bedside table (the Ikea ‘Lack’ table is only £5). It means that you can free up whatever drawer space you’ve been given as a bedside table.

Light:
If you aren’t blessed with many hours of great natural light, you might find your motivation dwindling at this time of year. If fairy lights are too tacky for you (though there are enough on the market for pretty much everyone – try mini Moroccan lanterns or large light bulb styles if you’re looking for something less kitsch) any cheap bedside lamps, wall lamps, room lamps or lanterns can make your room a more appealing place in the evening.

Art:
This can be a bit tricky, and while in freshers there are some painting and poster sales, there isn’t much new or interesting stuff later in the year when you might be in need of a change. Paintings can also be tricky budget wise. Try framing a poster (large Ikea frames are cheap and if you go for something simple aren’t too dreadful).

The V&A online shop is a great place to buy something new, as are just about any of the London galleries; it stops you from becoming part of the New York skyline/Marilyn Monroe/Audrey Hepburn/Pulp Fiction cliché.