Inside a 300-Year-Old London Cottage with an Italian Soul
When we set off for coffee with Fiona at her old cottage in north London, we’ll be honest — we were a little apprehensive, not quite sure what to expect.
Over email, Fiona de Lys, an interior colour consultant with Italian roots, came across as highly refined, impossibly elegant, almost aristocratic.
Half an hour into our chat in her garden, though, we were already laughing about the odd overlaps in our very different lives and pencilling in a trip to Italy — the country we all love.
Spoiler: we did fly to Liguria together and spent a couple of days hunting for trompe-l’œil, soaking up colour, and walking through the places echoed in the pictures around Fiona’s London cottage.
Editing the final film about Fiona and her home (or homes?) took more than a month.
We wanted to honour the layered way she looks at life and at nesting — to touch on the doubleness of identity, the beauty of decay, and the art of holding.
We hope we’ve managed to carry that feeling through the screen, so that more people can share in this small, heartwarming journey.
In Their Own Words: Fiona de Lys on Her Italian and English Roots, the Art of Holding, and Why Colour Matters
I live in a 300-year-old cottage with a very moody atmosphere. When I bought the cottage, I reconfigured the layout so that the downstairs bathroom could go upstairs. This afforded me having a kitchen at the back of the property alongside the snug dining area, and to the front is the double-fronted living space. Upstairs there’s now the bathroom, the master bedroom, a spare room, and a very small but special guest bedroom, which is like a little jewel.
This cottage has been an opportunity for me to grow and develop as a person. Within the space that I hold here is a narrative which I’ve curated and put together with objects that remind me of my roots — my Italian roots, my connection to my English roots, and this sense of a dual life that I live in Italy and in England. The style has developed from the origins of an Arts and Crafts background: simple design, interesting motifs, and a rugged, raw aesthetic that comes from Italy.
Without intention, my home developed through layers — probably because I studied set design as I was growing up. These layers are brought to life with the colours I’ve chosen. The most recent decoration project was about bringing the colours of Italy into my home in a natural, perhaps unobvious way.
The colours are a reflection of my story. They flow throughout the house and take me to certain moments and places in time.
At the back of the property, the colour is very soft and delicate — inspired by a monastery I love to visit. The feel of these colours is calm, almost disappearing, holding the space so that my eye is drawn to the textures and the simplicity of objects: terracotta bowls, perhaps chipped, baskets woven from grapevines.
By contrast, the front of the house is a much deeper, stronger colour.
It reminds me of the heat of Liguria, the heat bouncing off the ground. It’s a deep orangey-brown, with accents of even darker tones linking to the woodlands of England. The ceiling is a soft, muted, earthy orange — the one of buildings in Liguria.
Upstairs is verdant, vibrant, energetic green. It reminds me of walking in the morning, the sun streaming through the green leaves and feeling completely bathed in green light.
My bedroom is more feminine. The ceiling a pinky terracotta, the walls a shaded purpley-pink, and the woodwork a deep orangey-brown. These colours come to life with the curtains and all the artwork behind my head.
The bathroom reminds me of swimming through seaweed in Sardinia. That sense of diving underwater into a completely different world and swimming through verdant seaweed — I wanted that space to be a reminder of those moments.
And the pop in the house is the little guest bedroom, treated like a jewel box. People don’t expect to see this rich earthy red, greens and blues all put together, in my eye, in perfect harmony.
My Italian roots stem from Liguria. My grandmother was born there, my mother was born in Milan, and I spent a lot of summers in Sardinia. I remember visiting Italy as a young child with my mother and being very aware of the rustic nature of this part of the world, by contrast to Milan, which was sophisticated, design-driven, very mid-century. When my grandmother died, my grandfather moved to Liguria and stayed there for the rest of his life — it became a second home once I began visiting.
The first time I visited Liguria was unforgettable. We went to see my grandfather, who had an apartment on the top floor of a mid-century block. What struck me was the panoramic woodland vista wrapping the entire room. His round dining table sat in the middle, so the idea was that you were dining in the middle of a woodland. It was utterly magical and very theatrical.
The art of trompe l’oeil in Liguria is extraordinary. Once upon a time, fishermen painted their houses in different colours so they could identify them from far out at sea. Rather than leaving the render flat, they painted windows, balustrades, shutters — architectural details imitated around real windows and doors — bringing the space to life. Across Liguria you see beautiful examples, from subtle stonemasonry imitation to lace in windows, cats, flowers. You really have to look up.
