Expectations versus reality of styling your first home

Having spent years living in university halls and share houses, I have long dreamed of decorating an entire home from scratch.

Think walls completely covered with retro paintings, plants hanging from the lounge room ceiling, and the crackling of an open fire in winter.

The bedroom will be a minimalist haven– nothing but a low bed placed on slats, some artfully crumpled linen sheets and a stack of white magazines.

My normcore basics will be hung on a freestanding clothes rack, showcasing my tasteful eye for fashion.

The kitchen will be lined with home-grown herbs and all my plates handmade by local ceramicists.

I had it all figured out, until I realised I’m a renter with a non-existent decorating budget.

The minimalist styling I had imagined was quickly replaced with what can best be described as “faux mid-century/eclectic” after an experience at a Jardan warehouse sale proved I cannot even slightly afford an ex-display designer couch.

Instead of beautiful floorboards, there’s a rug on the bedroom floor (compulsory to minimise noise in the building) that looks as though it’s been ripped up from a primary school classroom.

When the lease terms revealed the fireplace wasn’t permitted for use by renters, the crackling sound I’d so hoped for was substituted by the humming of a not-at-all energy-efficient heater (the only source of heating in the apartment) left behind by the previous tenant. That was soon replaced by the sound of my chattering teeth when it didn’t survive the winter.

I love that my partner has taste and an opinion, but I often wish he didn’t care about our home’s styling. He doesn’t “get” the artist-made wall hanging in the living room, and my workspace isn’t adorned with artworks, but rather Simpsons figurines and Lego that are Blu-tacked to the desk. (In his defence, retro paintings are actually quite hard to find, and I keep getting conned into buying what could better be described as water-damaged prints.)

At the end of the day, I know I am lucky. While my home may not be Pinterest-worthy, it allows to me live within five minutes of parks, cafes and public transport, with the second-best quality of life in the world.

It’s just really expensive, and I really want hanging plants.