Laurence Llewelyn-Bowen I REMEMBER…
WHEN I WAS ABOUT EIGHT, I WAS DESPERATE to have a purple ceiling in my bedroom. I grew up in the Sixties and Seventies and the homes of my parents’ friends were very colourful: purple on purple; lilac on lilac; felt walls on suede, shag pile carpets, that kind of thing.
with lots of antiques and a 1950s vibe. The only moments of exuberance were judicious bits of moss green William Morris on the sofa or the curtains. I remember feeling the design in the space I inhabited was extremely underpowered. However, as far as my mother was concerned there was something very, very wrong with purple and she refused point blank to let me have a purple ceiling. So eventually, we settled on
