Experience: my house is Insta-famous
When I first saw the house on my walk to work, I immediately fell in love. It’s a 19th-century, three-storey property on the corner of a quiet residential street in Notting Hill, west London. Its brick walls were painted baby pink, and I knew I had to have it. Back then, in the 70s, I was managing the fashion designer Ossie Clark, and it was an exciting time to be in west London. Notting Hill has always been very colourful.
One day, I spoke to the gentleman I saw coming out of the house. “I’d love to buy your house,” I told him, but he said it wasn’t for sale. Months later, I saw him again and he said he had put the house on the market. I rushed to the estate agent and gave them a cheque for 10% of the asking price. They wouldn’t accept it because they said the property was being advertised in the Sunday paper. So I had to wait until Monday morning, and when I went in again, they said their phone had not stopped ringing with people wanting to buy it, but I had got in first with the full deposit. I was ecstatic.
I didn’t move in until a year later, in 1979, as it needed a lot of work. I’ve kept the walls pink, improving on the appearance with various additions.
It’s only in recent years, with the rise of social media and everyone having cameras on their phones, that I’ve noticed lots of people taking photographs outside the house. On a sunny weekend, there can be crowds on the street. I don’t get why they’re doing it really, but I suppose it is a beautiful house.
Back in 2019, Accidentally Wes Anderson, an account on Instagram that posts photographs of buildings with the director’s aesthetic, posted a picture of my house, and it got about 46,000 likes. It also featured in a book by the same people. After that, I really did feel like my home was famous.
Every day people photograph my house, and photograph themselves in all kinds of poses outside. I have CCTV cameras set up for security reasons, which are clearly visible, and they have picked up all sorts of funny images of people posing on my steps. If they stand outside my door, they’re going to be caught on camera, but I think most of them like being on camera anyway. There have been people from all over the world, from tourists to dancers and models. I remember one lady who must have been there for half a day taking pictures of herself on my doorstep; she had set up her camera in the street and would run back to grab it if a car came.
Last year, after a few girls had photos taken while dancing on my doorstep, I found that the tiles of the steps had been damaged. I want to replace them with original-looking tiles, but that might cost £2,000. That was obviously frustrating, but really I find it all quite amusing.
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Usually the visitors are very polite, and if I bump into anyone photographing outside they say, “Sorry, we just like the look of your house.” But there have been some instances where people have been rude, not even apologising when they were blocking my front door.
Another time, I noticed a camera crew outside filming someone – I assumed she must have been famous. They hadn’t asked my permission to be there, so I thought I’d go and take a photograph. One of the crew came over and said, “Excuse me, do you mind?” And I said, “Do you mind? This is my house!” They were filming Binky from Made in Chelsea. I didn’t know her name at the time – my granddaughter recognised her after I posted the photo on Facebook.
There are some photographers who come quite regularly, and we’re on friendly terms – I’ll often say, “Hi,” and have a chat with them. One professional always brings his clients to pose on my doorstep. There’s also a teacher at a ballet school nearby who brings students to have their end-of-year photographs taken with my house in the background. I feel a sense of pride that it’s my home.
The whole street has become a popular spot for photoshoots, as there are lots of coloured houses and it’s very picturesque. Some neighbours get annoyed, but it doesn’t bother me. My favourite part of the house is the inside, anyway.
• As told to Naomi Larsson Piñeda
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