What I have thus learned from moving away from the countryside and to university is that home is where you put the posters up.  At the ripe old age of 21, I have lived in six different houses/flats, which means I have successfully* decorated six bedrooms and probably lost my keys to every front door more times than I care to remember or admit. *If successfully means ‘fifteen-year-old me cutting out the hunky guy from a Hollister paper bag and sticking it above my vanity mirror’, then so be it.

For as long as I can remember, my bedroom has always been my outlet for self-expression.  Some teenagers dyed their hair a different shade of the rainbow every week, I adorned my walls with pictures printed from the internet, rosary beads (as if I knew what they meant) and far too many clippings from the NME.

The rotation was every Saturday morning.  Name a white male with a guitar and I had him on my wall at some point.  Everybody, however, apart from Paul Weller, Julian Casablancas and David Bowie.  Ella aged 13-17-year-old could not stand the starman.  I know, I am disgusted too.

Since discovering that perhaps having poor-quality printouts on my wall is not exactly ‘Pintrest-goals’, each bedroom I have had since has developed both in style and creativity. I have still kept with the idea that a blank wall is a boring one, hence why my 2017/2018 university bedroom does not follow the monochrome trend, however, the room I am about to show you is the first bedroom that really encapsulates ‘me’.

And I did not even have to travel to Thailand to find it.

The Draws

I currently live in a dinky two-bed flat in Castlefield. My room is comfy with not a great deal of space for activities but, considering I seem to spend all my time in my bed with a coffee and my Mac, it still messy within a flash.

On immediate entry, the dressing table/chest of draws is adjacent to the door, just on the right.  The chest itself is a simple, tall, white flat-pack set from IKEA, featuring five draws which miraculously store all of my ugly jumpers, t-shirts and make-up.

As I rent my flat, furniture such as my bed and wardrobe came included, however, a chest of draws was emitted.  I was tearing my hair out living out of plastic bags strewn across my floor for a whole month before I took the plunge and purchased this pristine baby.  My first real piece of furniture!! How exciting…

The chest of draws also doubles up as my dressing table.  As you can see my makeup is stored in a Moscow Mule mug (bought accidentally as a coffee cup, which my fingers quickly learnt was not heat-resistant) as well as an IKEA planter.  On display are my go-to hair products such as my trusty bumble and bumble surf spray, signature scents such as Twilight from Lush, favourite lipsticks* and my Kinder Egg surprise presents from my boyfriend.

The Smiths CD clock is something my dad bought me for Christmas many moons ago. I have never used it, never put batteries in it, never actually watched the interview on the CD – God, I am such a poser, call myself a Smiths fan.

Disclaimer: I know MAC and Smashbox test on animals, these were purchased/gifted before I vowed to go cruelty-free on my makeup.  

 

The TV unit

Remember when I said I was obsessed with plastering my walls with white men?  I have grown up ever-so-slightly from when I used to idolise Morrissey as a deity, and have learnt the art of less is more… Who am I kidding?  I have a giant cut-out of a bionic Bjork, Lazy Oaf stickers, a deathly take on the Gallagher brothers, some abstract, contemporary colour art I yanked out of Crack Magazine, and, my centrepiece – some elegantly poignant words about LCD Soundsystem’s comeback.  As you can see, I definitely have not conquered my ability to tone down a wall space.

Aside from the wall is my television unit, better known as my ancient Samsung telly bought from my boyfriend’s granny, placed on top of my underwear and sock drawer.  Bask in its glory, please.  At the minute, I am literally using it to stream Girl Boss and this dinosaur works like an absolute charm.  Who needs speedy, crystal-clear 4K when they have this bad-boy at the end of their bed?

Alongside the television is my trusty selfie-mirror which I am unable to attach to the wall because I am inadequate and do not possess nor know ANYBODY who possesses a drill.  This means that sitting down mirror outfits are my new thing. If you do not follow me on Instagram (@ellalascott) then you are missing a serious trick!  The mirror itself was a bargain IKEA find – I loved it so much you can find another one in my living room (and subsequently more selfies in THAT mirror on my Instagram, too.)

As well as the ultimate sit-down selfie mirror is my clothes rack, which I have craftily and cleverly weaved around two sets of fairy-lights – entwining them and creating a light trail which extends from the clothes rack up into my curtain pole. Am I a genius?  Maybe.

The clothes rack itself features my sparkly party numbers, which I am trying my best to incorporate into my everyday wardrobe, as opposed to being kept for spectacularly special occasions.  Casual day dresses, pinafores and a selection of my favourite jumpers are also on show, while my coats and jackets hide away in my wardrobe.

While the clothes rack fills in this corner of the room, I have my beloved Cure ‘Boys Don’t Cry‘ poster peeking in the spare space, as well as a print of Gustav Klimt‘s ‘The Tree Of Life‘, just hovering above. This print itself is my mother all over.  She first introduced me to Klimt in way of ‘The Three Ages Of Women‘ – a painting by the late artist which features a baby at the mother’s breast – which she had on canvas, propped up in her bedroom when I must have been 13/14?  Since then, I have been obsessed with Klimt.  However, as I am not exactly on a baller’s budget, an Amazon print will have to do for now!

The Bed & Windowsill 

The final piece of the puzzle – the bed and windowsill situ.  Now, this bed might look normal to the untrained eye but, lemme let you in on a deep, dark secret – it is not higher than the bottom of my calf.

Now, I am a 5″ 3.5′.  This means I am a short bird – this also means that “not higher than the bottom of my calf” is a ridiculous height for a bed.  Again, although the bed chooses the wizard, Harry, I personally would not have opted for this weird piece of wood.  In my other accommodations and previous family homes, I have always had tall princess beds so this one is a bit of a novelty for me.

To make it a bit more personal and distract from the height, I have a gorgeous currently fake-tanned-clad duvet cover with cowboys on again from, YOU GUESSED IT, IKEA, alongside a fluffy pillow picked up on the cheap from Laura Ashley and some of my soft toys.  I am a sucker for a comforter.  When you need a good cry about uni, how fat you are getting or that you have burnt your plants with candles – a cuddle of a bunny is exactly what you need.  I am the embodiment of a child.

The one positive thing about my bed being so low is that subsequently, it is the same height as my windowsill.  Hello, alternative bedside table! Usually, this means my windowsill is strewn with abandoned cups of tea, empty pesto pasta bowls and cheeky chocolate wrappers.  Today, however, we only have a forgotten cuppa – taking control!  New year, new me!

The books on my makeshift bedside table/windowsill are always alternating however here is what I have stacked at this current moment in time.  A black Penguin poem book by Christina Rossetti (I swore I would never read  ‘Goblin Market’ again after my English Literature A Level faux-pas, but here we are) which only cost me a quid, a glittery pink diary from Cath Kidston, a few novels I have just finished/just started, my trusty highlighter, broken Orla Kiely specs and BOWIE STYLE – a must for ANY Bowie fashion fangirl.

I also have a UV lamp and a false nail kit for when I am feeling like I do not want to be able to pick anything up for a few weeks, as well as last year’s Valentine’s Day Card from my boyfriend.  Sentimental and cute, am I alright?

So the deed has been done, the clock strikes 12 – thank you for visiting my crib MTV, this has been where the magic happens.

Now you know where I sleep, take pictures of myself and tidy constantly, what do you think?

As always,  Ells x