I’m a sharehouse veteran, but I’ve finally found the value of making a house a home

“My house has actually started to feel like a home instead of just a place to sleep and survive.”

My first flat (if you could call it that) was shared with 15 other people. Often, I wasn’t even sure who – there were eight bedrooms, each rented out as separate AirBnbs, with two people in each. There was a pile of dirty dishes on the front lawn and passive-aggressive notes (“Don’t touch my tomato sauce!”) plastered on every communal surface. My possessions at the time included a suitcase full of clothes, a blue nylon-string guitar, a used mattress and the cheapest Kmart blanket money could buy.

My second flat, a brick apartment in Montreal shared with two boys from Facebook Marketplace, had almost no windows. There were none in my room at least. It wasn’t even technically a room; it was an extension of another room. My possessions at the time were almost exclusively from Ikea. I had a waxy plant that by some miracle survived the whole year with no sunlight. I thought if it could, I could too.

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Now, seven years, five sharehouses and three cities later, I’ve finally settled down somewhere I’m pretty sure I’m going to stay. With this sense of stability, I’ve found a new appreciation for making my space feel special.

For so long, I treated all the items in my life as disposable, because they were. I opted for the cheapest version of everything, mostly because I knew I wouldn’t need it for long, but also because I didn’t want to get too emotionally attached. There were a few treasures I had to say goodbye to in big moves: a tattered secondhand mink coat, a thrifted painting and a devastating number of books. The heartbreak wasn’t worth it.

And although I miss the excitement of the vagabond lifestyle, finally having the money and ability to invest in things I truly love feels like such a luxury. My house has actually started to feel like a home instead of just a place to sleep and survive. There is a certain Buddha-like freedom in having nothing, but in decorating my space with care and attention, I feel like I’ve finally put down roots. It makes it harder to float away.

We bought a white leather couch. It smelled like old cigarettes but I didn’t care. It was so beautiful! The man who sold it to us, at the insistence of his wife, looked crestfallen as we loaded it into the Bunnings van. Then there were the nice towels, big and fluffy, and the four-poster bed that fulfilled my childhood dreams. Each new item – bought slowly and intentionally – gave me a delightful little thrill. 

Parting with my scratchy cotton sheets was a long time coming. When I finally did, I cursed myself for not having done it sooner. Switching from the easily bleachable white to Bed Threads’ vibrant Paprika hue instantly brought a new energy into my room. Inspired by the rich, earthy tones of the Australian desert, the colour gave the space a lived-in, retro feel as opposed to its former budget hotel vibe. 

What’s more, the fabric felt so lovely on my skin. I’d had a bunch of friends tell me that Bed Threads were the most comfortable sheets they’d ever slept on – they weren’t wrong. Coming with two pillowcases, a fitted sheet and a duvet cover, the buttery-soft French Flax Linen set made my time spent in bed so much better. The fabric’s antibacterial quality and temperature-regulating properties made it feel clean and cool no matter what the erratic spring weather was doing.

When I first started investing in homewares, I decided it was important to me that the things I bought were built to last. If I was going to drop some proper coin on an item, I wanted it to be durable, which was another reason the Bed Threads set was an obvious choice. As linen only gets softer with each wash (rather than fraying and disintegrating like its cheaper counterparts), I knew the set would stand the test of time.

Over time, as I switched out my purely utilitarian belongings for things I actually cared about, it felt like I was building something: a cosy little sanctuary for myself, but also a life. Taking care of my space was a way of taking care of myself. From now on, if I ever do end up moving cities again, you better believe I’ll be paying for extra shipping. 

Take a peek at Bed Threads’ new arrivals here.