Last week I was standing in our bedroom doorway at seven months pregnant, trying to figure out where on earth we’re going to fit baby clothes when this little one arrives, and I had this moment where I just… laughed. Not because anything was funny, but because two years ago this same room was such a disaster zone that I couldn’t see the floor most days. Now it looks like we barely own anything, which is hilarious because we actually have more stuff than ever – I’ve just gotten really good at hiding it all.
The turning point came about eighteen months ago when my mum visited and made one of her pointed comments about the state of our bedroom. You know the type – not directly critical but somehow more cutting than an outright insult. “Oh, it’s very… lived-in, isn’t it?” Thanks, Mum. Really helpful when you’re exhausted with a toddler and your partner’s working nights so you’re doing bedtime routine solo while trying to fold laundry that’s been sitting in a basket for three days.
That night, after Amara was finally asleep, I sat on our bed surrounded by piles of clean clothes, books I’d started reading but never finished, and random bits of toddler paraphernalia that somehow migrate to adult bedrooms overnight. The room felt claustrophobic despite being a decent size, and I realised it wasn’t actually small – it was just full of visible mess that made it feel tiny.
I’d been following these home accounts on Instagram where everything looked so serene and minimal, but I couldn’t figure out how these people lived actual lives without accumulating stuff. Then it hit me – they weren’t owning less, they were just hiding it better. Genius, really.
The first proper investment was switching our old divan bed for one of those Ottoman storage beds from IKEA. Cost us about £350 which felt like a fortune at the time, but honestly it’s been the best money we’ve spent on the house. The entire mattress lifts up on these hydraulic hinges – like something from a spy film – and underneath there’s this massive storage space. I can fit all our out-of-season clothes in there, plus spare bedding, plus a box of Amara’s baby clothes that I’m keeping for this pregnancy, plus about fifteen books I convinced myself I’d read again someday.
Word of warning though – measure your ceiling height first. I nearly knocked myself unconscious the first week because I forgot the mattress would lift higher than I expected. Pregnancy brain didn’t help, but still. Learn from my mistakes and all that.
The next game-changer was ditching traditional bedside tables for these wall-mounted ones with hidden drawers. Found them on Wayfair for about £85 each, which seemed steep for what looked like simple floating shelves, but they’ve got these secret compartments underneath that you’d never notice unless you knew they were there. All the bedside clutter – phone chargers, hand cream, the random hair ties that multiply overnight – just disappears into these hidden drawers. Guests think we’re incredibly organised when really we’re just better at concealment.
I became slightly obsessed with furniture that has double lives. That innocent-looking bench at the foot of our bed? Storage chest in disguise. Cost about £65 on Amazon and it holds all my pregnancy yoga gear, which means I can’t use my previous excuse that the yoga mat was “somewhere inaccessible.” The cushioned top is actually really comfortable for sitting on while putting on shoes, and Amara likes to use it as a step to climb onto our bed, which wasn’t exactly the intended purpose but works for us.
The mirror trick still makes me feel clever every time I use it. Instead of a traditional wardrobe, we had these mirror-fronted storage panels installed along one wall. They look like one continuous mirror – makes the room feel twice as big and brighter – but actually they’re storage compartments behind mirror doors. No visible handles or hinges, so you’d never know unless someone showed you where to push. Cost more than I’d like to admit, but worth it for the space we gained and the magic trick factor.
Vertical storage became my best friend, but not the obvious towering bookshelf kind that makes your ceiling feel lower. I found these really slim cabinets that run floor to ceiling but are only about eight inches deep. They look almost architectural, like they’re meant to be there, and inside I can store linens, maternity clothes, and all those “useful” items you accumulate when you have a toddler but don’t need daily access to.
The space above our wardrobe was just dead space until I realised it’s actually prime storage real estate. Got Liam’s dad to help install some pull-down steps so I can access storage boxes up there – well, Liam accesses them now that I’m seven months pregnant and climbing anything higher than a footstool makes me nervous. Perfect for seasonal stuff and baby equipment we’re not using yet but will need again soon.
Headboard storage was my latest discovery. Instead of buying a traditional headboard, we built this shallow shelf unit that runs the width of the bed. Only about ten inches deep, so it doesn’t stick out too far, but it holds books, a small lamp, and has these hidden compartments behind false backs for important documents and things like that. Guests see a nice display of books and think we’re well-read; I see organised storage for all the random bits that used to live in overstuffed drawers.
I made some mistakes along the way. Created storage that was so hidden I forgot where I’d put things – spent ages looking for my passport once because I couldn’t remember which secret compartment I’d used. Now I keep a simple list on my phone noting what’s where. Not particularly mysterious but infinitely more practical when you’re pregnant and your brain feels like it’s operating at half capacity.
The key thing I learned is that hidden storage has to work with how you actually live, not how you think you should live. That gorgeous under-window storage bench looks perfect in magazines, but if you naturally dump things on your bed when you come home from work, put hidden storage where you naturally dump things. I tried fighting my habits for months before accepting that working with them is much more effective.
Temperature control matters too – learned this the hard way when some leather boots got ruined in a storage space that got too warm over summer. And don’t hide electronics anywhere without proper ventilation unless you want expensive paperweights.
The best part about getting good at hidden storage is the psychological effect. When everything has a place and that place isn’t visible, your bedroom stops being a reminder of all the stuff you own and starts being somewhere you actually want to spend time. Plus there’s something deeply satisfying about having people compliment your “minimalist” bedroom style when you secretly know you own just as much stuff as everyone else – you’ve just learned to hide it better.
Now with baby number two coming, I’m grateful for all this invisible storage space because we’re going to need every inch of it. The room still looks calm and uncluttered, but I know we’ve got space for all the baby gear that’s about to take over our lives again. Sometimes being sneaky about storage is the most honest approach to family life there is.
