A derelict workshop provided a wonderful blank canvas for designer Rachel Chudley's first home

Rachel Chudley and her husband Nico Kaufman were happy with their Whitechapel flat and had no intention of moving. It was charming, affordable and in a good location. But then curiosity got the better of them. One rainy weekend in 2014, a walk through East London took them past a pair of rickety old doors, upon which a tiny sign was pinned announcing a workshop for sale. They snuck in to have a look and were met by ‘a complete and utter ruin’, recalls Rachel. There were trees growing out of the walls and no sign of electricity or plumbing, but the pair were entranced and, without much thought, they made an offer. Two months later, the place was theirs.

‘It was naive of us, if not a bit stupid,’ says Rachel. The new property was not just short on infrastructure; it had no planning permission to convert it into a home. Rachel and Nico sold their flat, taking up residence in a caravan in their new yard. A year later, permission was granted: work could begin.

Such a project might have daunted some, but the couple had a distinct advantage. For five years, Rachel has been running her eponymous interior-design studio and she is known for her bold projects and instinctive use of colour. Having studied history of art at The Courtauld Institute of Art – she describes herself as ‘a frustrated artist’ – she moved to Los Angeles where she attended the Interior Designers Institute. On returning to the UK, she and a couple of friends set up the rolling exhibition space Guts for Garters, for which Rachel would build sets in response to the artworks on display. This led to a month on the road with Mumford & Sons, sourcing props and creating costumes and staging alongside the theatrical specialist Reuben Feels – a formative time that convinced Rachel interior design was the path for her.

‘Artful, creative interiors are at the core of what I do,’ she says. ‘The house has become a canvas for some of my more bonkers ideas.’ Despite its relatively small footprint, she has not played it safe, particularly when it comes to colour. The kitchen is dominated by a deep blue lacquered wall and the spare-room walls are an imperial shade of purple. ‘The purple was totally left field – I think it might send you a bit mad to live in that room, but to stay in it is quite fun.’ Rachel’s understanding of colour has been largely informed by her father-in-law Donald Kaufman, the American paint specialist. ‘It has been a real education working with him, because his paints are so nuanced and so sensitive to light.’

The glass-fronted kitchen opens onto a courtyard and is lit from above by a skylight. Rachel describes it as an ‘accidental kitchen’, as much a space for parties as for cooking. ‘It feels a bit like a conservatory – there’s no wall shelving and lots of plants.’ The copper kitchen cupboards are a nod to the industrial nature of the space. The sitting room is painted a warm honey brown with opulent gold curtains made from a sari by Lucy Bathurst of Nest Design. Rachel has paid no heed to the room’s diminutive size, upholstering the furniture in a fabulous mix of leopard print, ikats and sunny yellows.

There was no staircase when she and Nico bought the property: ‘We had to break through the external brick wall to see what was up there.’ It transpired that the neighbours had knocked through from their side and built a makeshift kitchen and bathroom, complete with a sinister mannequin. The upper floor now houses the aforementioned ‘purple boudoir’, the main bedroom and en-suite bathroom. With the help of her colleague Betina Røge Jenson, Rachel has designed the room to get as much out of its scale as possible: a wooden partition and doors, based on Crittall windows, divide the space in two, letting in light while providing a degree of privacy.

A gloriously over-the-top orange velvet headboard was inspired by the French toleware lights that flank it. ‘Because of the sloping roof, the wall on that side is higher and would have overpowered anything that was a shrinking violet,’ says Rachel. ‘This was my chance to have some fun, so I played around with the shape of the leaves on the lights, until they became more abstracted and morphed into this epic bedhead.’

Rachel’s modus operandi is refreshingly maximalist.Her house is packed with personality – a bricks-and-mortar call to arms for colour, pattern and wit in design. And, above all, it is testament to the joy Rachel finds in decorating.

Rachel Chudley: rachelchudley.com