Как создать идеальную комнату для уединения и переосмыслить концепцию «буадуара»

In A Room of One’s Own, Virginia Woolf demands that women need private, protected areas in order to think and create. The room is a symbol for financial freedom, privacy and time, but the space itself is essential too. Today, life is more turbulent and globally interconnected than ever, with a constant barrage of information from incessantly pinging devices. This makes a room of one's own even more essential. For Woolf, women are most starved of protected space, but every iteration of harangued person could benefit from a sanctuary. After all, she says: ‘Life for both sexes – and I look at them, shouldering their way along the pavement – is arduous, difficult, a perpetual struggle. It calls for gigantic courage and strength.’ It’s such arduousness that can (often despite our better judgement) tug on our bottom lip, scrunch up our fists and paint our face red. It creates a mood that washes over even the most jovial of people, and it’s one of the least appealing to witness. Woolf may have argued women needed a private room to write fiction, I’d like to use it in the manner of an 18th century French woman: to sulk. The boudoir is traditionally a woman's private bedroom, dressing room, or sitting area. Originating in 18th century France, the term comes from the French verb bouder (to sulk or pout), literally translating to a ‘pouting room’ or a private space to withdraw to. That’s where the famous Farrow & Ball ‘Sulking Room pink’ shade comes from: the deeper, more sumptuous, dusty rose sister to the shade ‘Peignoir’, named after traditionally pinkish-grey chiffon nightgowns worn in a boudoir. ‘The sulking room recalls the Renaissance aestheticisation of melancholia: a brooding temperament associated with solitude, unrequited love and rumination, but also with creative genius,’ says psychologist Dr Max Moser. When questioned about what that room might look like, Max explains that ‘a room faithful to the Renaissance preoccupation with brooding would require an inhabitant in flowing clothes, low lighting, lots of books – preferably poetry – and a large window for solitary yearning and contemplation, ideally facing Saturn, the planet once believed to govern the melancholic disposition.’ It’s an evocative image, and one that I instantly want to become part of my house. ‘A sulking room is basically a whole design category built around the idea that you don’t always have to be “on”,’ explains interior designer Riley Uggla, founder of The Condo Studio. ‘It’s essentially a woman’s private retreat, tucked just off the bedroom, where she could read, cry, gossip, or just be left alone for an hour.’ It’s easy to imagine how essential that sacred space could feel for a hardworking parent mid-way through the summer holidays, but anyone from child to pensioner could surely benefit from a place to be themselves, whether that’s buried in a book, finally finishing Wordle or just unashamedly pouting into the abyss. ‘Prolonged idleness and withdrawal tend to be bad for our mental health, so the sulking room should probably best be seen as a kind of regulation space, particularly for when we’re cross,’ explains Max. ‘Heightened emotional arousal, such as when we’re frustrated, narrows attention and biases us away from perspective-taking, making understanding other people’s feelings and motivations more challenging. A short retreat in the sulking room could reduce arousal, restore perspective, and help you re-enter a situation before saying something that requires an apology.’ It’s all very well extolling the virtues of solitude, but it’s hard to find it when space is limited, particularly in the UK’s crowded cities where we all feel a bit on top of each other. In lieu of an ample 18th-century palace to play with, Riley reminds us that a sulking room needn’t be a whole extra wing. ‘Most of us don’t have the square footage!’ Instead, she suggests that a sulking room is ‘more of a mood you can carve out; like having a windowless nook under the stairs, a dressing table angled away from the door, a daybed in the corner of a bedroom that’s just for you. The point is somewhere in the house that isn’t for guests.’ Interior designer Jasmine Fisher has a nifty solution when space is scarce. ‘The qualities of a good sulking room are often the drawbacks of any other room, making them surprisingly easy to incorporate into a home,’ she explains. ‘A smaller room, with little natural light, naturally feels more enclosed and intimate. The more tucked away the better; you want to feel unfindable, disconnected from whatever is happening beyond the door. When positioned alongside your bedroom or bathroom, it becomes a natural extension of your private space.’ There’s something exceedingly luxurious about taking a ‘useless’ space and turning it into a room for reflection, reading or writing. Lucy Williams did this brilliantly in the awkward middle section of her Victorian terraced house, which she transformed into a cosy corner for enjoying a cocktail. Best of all, it only really has space for one or two people. ‘To create the right atmosphere, you need low, close light that pools rather than floods to create the right atmosphere in a boudoir,’ explains Riley. ‘And go for texture over pattern; fabrics like bouclé, velvet and mohair. Materials that invite you to curl up rather than sit up straight.’ Lucy’s shearling chairs, soft lighting and proximity to a radiator fit the bill, making it the perfect nook for pouting. ‘The aim is to put your nervous system at ease,’ explains Jasmine. ‘Envelop the walls and ceiling in a single, grounding colour – one that is natural, not synthetic, such as an earthy pink or rich emerald. Then layer different shades of the same colour throughout the room. Carry that softness throughout with carpet, comfortable furniture, and no hard edges. Avoid overhead spotlights in favour of dimmable feature lighting. The more cohesive the room feels, the more calming it becomes.’ Borrowing from Woolf’s ability to imbue a space with symbolism, Jasmine reminds us that a room has the power to represent an individual and the kind of life they want to live. ‘The room should be a reflection of your private world,’ Jasmine instructs, ‘Lean into your individuality. Let it be defined by your own small pleasures. This is the room for the art you don't need anyone else to understand. Trade screens for books. The most therapeutic rooms are multi-sensory, so bring in music and scent. There should be a sense of seclusion and indulgence to it.’ So when you’re weighing up whether to stuff in extra storage to the corner of your bulging bedroom, why not play with the idea of a sulking zone instead. Shed some clutter that adds to your chaos and instead opt for an old armchair with a sheepskin rug tossed over it and perch it next to a place to rest a candle and your journal. You won’t regret prioritising your peace.