My life has certainly not followed a straight line, but the detours have usually been the interesting bits.

Probably by absorbing everything around me and then slowly working out what I didn’t want. I grew up surrounded by extraordinary taste and very strong opinions about design, so finding my own voice meant learning to trust my instincts. Mine is perhaps a little less committed, a little less powerful, a little more relaxed. I like beautiful things, but I like them to have muddy boots beside them.

It’s easy to feel overwhelmed and decide that a problem is too big, too far away or somebody else’s responsibility. But I think we can all make a little effort, make a little start, have a little impact. I love the idea behind The King’s Trust’s Women Supporting Women breakfasts: every woman who can, helping a woman who can’t. Have a breakfast, invite some girlfriends and ask them to make a donation, however big or small. It’s such a simple thing. Imagine if every woman who could, did that for a woman who couldn’t.

I’m always much more interested when I know who made something, where it came from, why a detail exists or what happened around the table it sat on. Those stories give things soul and, in the end, they are usually what we remember.

Motherhood has made me considerably less precious about almost everything. Even with five almost grown-up children there is still always noise, interruption, crisis, laughter, debate, often all at once, so you become very adept at getting on with things. It has also made me realise that a life needn’t be perfect; in fact, I think the slightly battered bits are often the best bits.

Penelope and I both appreciate good design that stands up to real life. We share a love of things with character, craftsmanship and a practical purpose. There’s care in how everything is made, and no sense of chasing the next trend. I love the thought that, years from now, these pieces will hold memories of where I’ve been and who I was with.

The Garden Room really reflects the way I like to live somewhere between indoors and outdoors, dressed up and undone. I wanted pieces that could take you from walking through a muddy garden to lunch, drinks or dinner without requiring an entire change. There’s a bit of romance, a bit of practicality and hopefully that slightly eccentric English idea that you can wear a fabulous shoe while carrying in the firewood.