There’s a reason so many of us love the house in Home Alone, and it’s definitely not because it looked like a perfectly styled grey show home (although sadly, I think it does now in real life).
What made that house feel so special was that it felt alive.
It was colourful, warm and full of personality. The noise, family chaos, decorations, unmade beds and life in every room. It felt cosy in a way that modern interiors often don’t anymore. You could actually imagine living there.
And I think that’s why so many of us still feel emotionally connected to homes like that now.
Growing up, nobody’s homes really looked the same. People decorated with things they genuinely loved, not just what was trending. Houses were full of inherited furniture, strange ornaments, patterned wallpaper, family photos and collections that probably made no sense to anyone else.
And somehow, that’s exactly what made them feel comforting. There was personality everywhere.
My grandparents’ homes were full of warm colours, dark wood furniture, heavy curtains and bold patterns that would probably horrify modern interior TikTok — but to me, they felt magical. Safe. Lived in.
Now, homes can sometimes feel a little too polished. Social media has made us all more aware of how our houses look, and somewhere along the way everything became very beige, very minimal and very curated.
Don’t get me wrong, those homes can look beautiful. But personally, I miss homes that feel more relaxed. Homes where people actually live. Colourful kitchens, mismatched mugs, piles of magazines, cosy lamps and sofas you could properly sink into – and not be afraid to put your feet up!
I think that’s why I’ll always be drawn back to colour.
Not because I’m trying to recreate the 70s exactly, but because colour reminds me of warmth, family and comfort. It reminds me of being a kid and feeling safe. And honestly, life is serious enough already.
I want our home to feel joyful. Somewhere friends and family can properly relax, where people stay longer than planned and where nobody worries too much about messing up the cushions.
Now that we have a daughter of our own, I find myself thinking less about what looks fashionable and more about what feels good. I want her to remember warmth, noise, Christmas lights glowing in the evenings and homes full of personality.
Because when I think back to my own childhood, that’s what stays with me most.
Not whether anything matched perfectly, but how home felt.
And maybe that’s why I’ll never give up colour in ours.