Lifestyle

Why cushions are every interior designer’s secret weapon

By Jermaine Gallacher
How to use cushions when styling your home

Photo: Horst P. Horst, Vogue, March 1961

From cushion dread to scatter pro, discover how to transform your space with bold bolsters, charming throw pillows, and cheeky chintz—because no one wants boring in bed (or the living room)

To be very honest, I have always been a little scared of cushions. Something about upholstery has always felt like an intimidatingly posh corner of interior design, requiring a level of expertise I didn’t feel I possessed. I distinctly remember a friend coming to visit me at my showroom and saying: “You have some gorgeous bits, but you could really do with a few cushions around the place.” As I looked out across a sea of hard surfaces and sharp metal edges, it dawned on me that—although it was a bit rude of her to say—she was probably right. I should also add this comment was made only a few years ago; really, it wasn’t until I started doing my first major interior projects that I was forced to explore the seemingly never-ending world of soft furnishings.

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For there are no two ways about it: Well-made and ethically-sourced textiles simply don’t come cheap. And frankly, having recently designed my own fabrics and seeing the extraordinary amount of work that goes into the manufacturing and making process, I now fully understand why. Yet while the cost of upholstering an entire chair or sofa can be bum-clenchingly expensive, more often than not you simply don’t need it. All that’s really required to spruce up that tired-looking sofa or boring old bed of yours? An artful scattering of ravishing cushions.

The dining room in the New York apartment of art collector Jane Holzer. Photographed by Horst P. Horst, Vogue, November 1969.

Just like us humans, cushions come in all shapes and sizes—and thank god for that. Each style has its own benefits, but let’s start with the small ones, otherwise known as decorative or throw cushions. I used to have an irrational dislike for tiny cushions. To me, they always seemed a little pointless (and actually, in bedrooms, I still think they are, but let’s save that for later). Then, while on a trip to Venice, I visited the Museo Fortuny and witnessed a daybed with the most sensational arrangement of small cushions in varying shapes, textures, and vivid colours I had ever seen in my life. At that moment, I did an instant 180 and fell head over heels in love.

The terrace of the home of Prince Heinrich of Hesse on the island of Ischia.Photographed by Horst P. Horst, Vogue, April 1969.

Now, I can’t get enough of small cushions—in fact, the smaller the better. They have so much going for them. First, they’re relatively cheap to make or get made. You can use small offcuts of fabrics that would otherwise go to waste, especially those fabulous antique one-of-a-kind textiles that often turn up at sales in tiny scraps. If you’re looking for that special end-of-roll, never-to-be-found-again fabric, it’s definitely worth checking to see if any of the posh interior shops are hosting fabric sample sales. (Sample sales can still be a bit of a trade secret, so the best means of finding out when they’re happening is the good old-fashioned way; by going into stores and charming the owners or shop assistants.) But really, you can use pretty much any fabric at all, from your favourite (but now beyond repair) shirt, to a beloved carpet or rug that has seen better days.

Photographed by Tara Sgroi, House & Garden, May 2005.

Even little old me can just about make a tiny cushion at home. To begin, all you need to do is cut your fabric to your chosen size, then choose and cut another fabric for the back panel; I tend to go for a cheap velvet or linen in a darker tone. Place them together facing inwards, and then sew straight-stitch around three sides. Next, turn your cushion cover the right way around and fill it with stuffing. My preference is always wool (the smelly untreated stuff) which you can buy quite cheaply online. Finally, sew up your little corner—et voilà! You’ve made yourself a throw cushion. Now only 50 more to go. Personally, I think they work best en-masse: I like it when there are so many on a sofa that there’s barely enough room to sit down. To me, that’s real luxury.

The Long Island home of investment banker Michael Santangelo and artist Susan Santangelo.Photographed by Horst P. Horst, Vogue, August 1972.

On occasion, however, it’s definitely worth having things made to measure, and if you can’t afford down or wool stuffing, opt for foam instead. In London, I go to Pentonville Rubber who can cut foam to any shape or size you want. (All you have to do then is get it covered.) I would lean toward thicker and more durable fabrics: even an off-the-peg calico that you can then dye whatever colour you fancy would look fabulous. Personally, I can’t be bothered with zips and washable covers, as upholstery should really be cleaned by hand anyway.

Sometimes, it has to be said, small just won’t do. What you really need is some big cushion energy—and at this point, it’s time to roll out the big bolster cushions. A sculptural bolster can totally alter the way a sofa, daybed, or bench looks and functions: Consider them the building blocks of the cushion world. In fact, you can quite literally build a sofa solely out of bolster cushions, which is exactly what I did with my sitting room sofa, which is technically a daybed. Miraculously, I managed to find two bolsters that fitted the length of it at a market, making for a perfect backrest that is both comfortable and practical.

The bedroom in the Paris apartment of Betty Catroux and Francois Catroux, with an Op art style bed was designed by Catroux himself.Photographed by Horst P. Horst, Vogue, February 1970.

Finally, let’s take things to the bedroom. Beds to me are firmly not places I want loads of artfully placed scatter cushions. I find it deeply unsexy and, frankly, anxiety-inducing. (It always reminds me of the Sex and the City episode where Stanford goes back to a guy’s place who has a collection of china dolls laid out on his bed, and they have to remove them one-by-one before they can get down to business.) I mean it sort of works in hotels when someone is on hand to turn down your bed at night and then make it back up again in the morning, but as a single man living alone with a cat and a fairly busy schedule, it creates more problems than it’s worth. No, when it comes to the bed, I’m a big fan of an even bigger pillow. It’s both high impact and a great opportunity to show off a fabulous fabric in a bold way. Go for something graphic in high contrasting colours, or even cheeky chintz—anything at all, really, so long as it’s not boring. Nobody wants boring in bed, right?