I was lying in bed last week, probably avoiding marking year 9 homework if I’m being honest, when it hit me – our bedroom doesn’t feel ridiculously cramped anymore. We’re talking about 120 square feet here, which is smaller than most people’s living rooms, and somehow it’s finally working for two adults who both need to function in this space every single day.
When we first moved into this Victorian conversion flat in Easton, the bedroom was… well, it was a disaster waiting to happen. The previous owner had somehow managed to make an already small room feel even smaller with a massive dark wood wardrobe that took up half the wall and carpet that looked like it hadn’t been cleaned since the Blair years. My girlfriend moved in about six months later, and suddenly we had two people’s worth of stuff in a space that barely worked for one.
The learning curve was steep, and expensive. Our first brilliant idea was to buy a king-size bed because we’re both tall and figured we needed the space. The delivery blokes took one look at our bedroom door and started laughing. “You having a laugh, mate?” one of them said, but we insisted they try anyway. They got it through the door eventually, but then we couldn’t actually move around the room. I had to climb over the bed to open the window. My girlfriend couldn’t get to the wardrobe without doing this weird sideways shuffle. We lasted three weeks before admitting defeat and selling it on Facebook Marketplace at a loss.
The queen bed we replaced it with was better, but positioning it took forever to figure out. Every design blog says center the bed on the longest wall, but that’s rubbish advice for tiny rooms. We tried that first, obviously, because we believed what we read online like idiots. Couldn’t open the wardrobe properly, couldn’t access both sides easily, the whole room felt off-balance. Now it sits slightly off-center, creating just enough space for one proper nightstand and leaving clear access to the window on the other side. Took my brain about two weeks to stop being annoyed by the asymmetry, but functionality beats perfect symmetry every time.
Nightstands were another expensive lesson. We bought these lovely matching wooden ones from a furniture shop in town, proper ones that cost more than I’d like to admit. They looked great but ate up so much floor space that we were constantly banging into them. Back to Facebook Marketplace they went. Now we’ve got floating shelves instead – those basic IKEA ones that cost eight quid each. They hold everything we need (phones, books, that little dish where loose change lives) and we can slide storage boxes underneath. I keep phone chargers and earplugs in mine, my girlfriend keeps mystery items in hers that I’ve learned not to ask about.
The storage situation required proper military planning. Our wardrobe is one of those narrow Victorian ones that’s taller than it is wide, which actually works better than you’d expect. We installed a second hanging rail halfway down to double the space for shirts and shorter items. Those fabric shoe organizers that hang on the back of the door are brilliant – ours holds belts, scarves, ties, all the random accessories that used to live in drawers. The top shelf got clear storage boxes for out-of-season stuff, all labeled because my brain doesn’t function without labels.
Under-bed storage was non-negotiable with this little floor space. We bought a bed frame with built-in drawers, though honestly the quality isn’t great – the runners stick and one of the drawer fronts is slightly wonky. If I was doing it again I’d just get a basic frame and slide storage boxes underneath. Cheaper, more flexible, and you can fit bigger items when you need to store something unusual.
The walls work overtime in our bedroom. Everything that could be mounted got mounted. Small TV on a swivel arm (Sunday morning Netflix isn’t optional), floating shelves for books, even jewelry storage. I found these shadow box things that mount on the wall and hold earrings and necklaces right next to the dresser. Saves drawer space and looks quite neat actually.
Our dresser is tall and narrow rather than low and wide – more storage in less floor space. The top works as a sort of vanity area with a mirror and the basics I use every morning. Everything else lives in the bathroom because there’s no point duplicating storage areas when space is tight.
Lighting took more thought than expected. That central ceiling light makes everything feel harsh and smaller somehow. We’ve got string lights along the headboard wall (yes, like students, but classier), a small lamp on the dresser, and bedside lamps clipped to the floating shelves. Multiple light sources make the room feel bigger and warmer, plus when one of us wants to read and the other wants to sleep, we’ve got options.
The paint color happened by accident but works perfectly. We’d planned to do plain white but the shop mixed up our order and we ended up with this soft gray-blue instead. Rather than wait another week, we just went with it, and it’s brilliant. Makes the white ceiling look higher and creates this calm feeling without being boring. Our bedding is mostly white and cream with navy accents – nothing too busy because patterns make small spaces feel chaotic.
Window treatments matter more than you’d think in a tiny room. We hung blackout curtains close to the ceiling and extended them wider than the actual window. Tricks your eye into thinking both the window and room are bigger than they are. During the day when they’re open, all that light makes the space feel less cramped.
The biggest lesson after three years? Everything has to earn its place. That decorative bowl that just sat there looking pretty? Gone. The chair that became a clothes mountain every night? Moved to the living room where it’s actually useful. Extra throw cushions that we just chucked on the floor every bedtime? Charity shop. In 120 square feet, everything needs to be genuinely functional or beautiful enough to justify the space it takes up.
We’ve stopped thinking about the room as small now. It’s just… ours. It works the way we need it to work, holds everything we need it to hold, and feels comfortable rather than cramped. Sometimes good design isn’t about having more space – it’s about making the space you have feel exactly right for how you actually live.
