A Georgian vicarage in Hackney that feels like the prettiest of country houses
‘Let’s play house!’ This is the mantra guiding the decoration of Kristin Perers’ home in east London. Ever since her wedding day, when she was whisked over the threshold, the photographer, interior stylist and artist has been slowly, determinedly imbuing the formerly institutional interiors of the early-19th-century brick townhouse with warmth and a sense of patina. It has long served as a vicarage – Kristin’s husband William is a clergyman – and, when I visit, a suitably halo-like glow emanates from its candlelit Georgian rooms.
Driven by her innate sense of style, which melds folkish Americana with English prettiness and a hint of Scandinavian reserve, Kristin started by supplanting the office-style fitted carpets with painted floorboards, layered with handwoven rugs, and adding colour to the walls. The transitory nature of a clerical residence meant that, until recently, she had resisted the urge to make more dramatic interventions. The house’s decoration has historically been defined by its provisional élan. Kristin’s own ethereal, unframed chromatic canvas backdrops, used for her portrait and still-life photography, often make their way onto the walls at home, becoming back-drops to real life. Rooms were furnished with an assemblage of inherited antique pieces, arranged thoughtfully but, of necessity, with an approach akin to playful set design.
It was only recently, 15 years into their tenure as custodians of the house, that Kristin and William have started to crave more permanence. And so began a year of magical stitching, during which Kristin pieced together the rooms anew. An inspiring visit from Bennison Fabrics’ director Louise Richards ushered in a textile-led renovation, which started in a once underused sitting room that doubles as Kristin’s editing suite. Here, the sash windows have been dressed in blousy folds of Bennison’s ‘Daisy’ linen, with domette interlining to ward off draughts (essential for Kristin as a Florida blow-in).
A large George Smith sofa is draped in a vintage Rio Grande wool rug in soft pinks, picked up by Kristin in New Mexico, and piled with striped bolster cushions, including some featuring the late Geoffrey Bennison’s signature square ends. This embrace of patterned textiles is nostalgic for Kristin, who grew up in a bohemian ranch-style home built by her parents on Florida’s Indian River. The romance she has brought to the rooms of the vicarage also reflects her diverse creative lives.
After working as a designer at Calvin Klein in New York, she relocated to London in the late 1980s, wrote book about seasonal home decoration and then gradually pivoted to interior styling and image making. ‘I work in a fluid way,’ she says, gesturing to a mannequin draped with a painterly botanical canvas that she left out in the rain, strewn with roses, which she then depicted with her brush where they lay. ‘The rhythm of painting is very much a part of my process,’ she explains. Perfection is not the goal, but rather the capturing of fleeting moments of natural beauty.
Kristin traces her love of making back to her mother, who trained as an actor and later channelled her creative energies into their home, once lovingly constructing a doll’s house for her two daughters. In the main bedroom, Kristin had a curved canopy added to an Ikea four-poster, fashioned from wrought iron by a local craftsman in an arched shape particular to the period of the house. It is smartly fitted with Bennison Fabrics’ finely rendered, Regency-style ditsy floral ‘Petites Fleurs’ linen, each panel tailored with the precision of couture and secured with ribbons reminiscent of corsetry.
The room is composed of Kristin’s most treasured objects: folk art from her childhood home, a pair of Staffordshire figurines, and framed patchwork art – a nod to Gloria Vanderbilt’s patchwork-filled rooms of the 1970s. Kristin likens the house itself to a patchwork quilt – one that lovingly threads together a lifetime of experiences, with its people, places and things.
In summer, she paints on the rooftop outside her studio, occasionally ascending the nearby ladder to the interconnected church’s 16th-century bell tower, an act that evokes memories of childhood tree forts. ‘This is a storybook house,’ she says. ‘It’s my perch – and I have a whole playground.’



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