The Threshold: Rethinking the Cloakroom
There are rooms in a home we move through without much thought. The hallway, the entrance, the cloakroom - spaces that sit between one place and another, often overlooked in favour of the rooms where we spend the most time.
But perhaps these thresholds deserve a little more attention.

As part of The Threshold, the first act of The Slow Return, we’ve been thinking about the small rituals and considered details that mark the transition between outside and in, guest and host, everyday and occasion. The cloakroom is one such space: small, intimate and often the only room every guest will visit.
We spoke to Pandora Philipp, Founder & Editor of The Townhouse Project, about why these overlooked spaces can be some of the most rewarding to design, and how scent, lighting, texture and the smallest details can transform the experience of coming into a home.
Why does the cloakroom deserve more attention than we typically give it?
Absolutely, I actually think the cloakroom is one of the best places in the home to have a little fun. Because it’s a small space and you don’t spend long periods of time in there, you can often be braver than you might be elsewhere. A beautiful wallpaper, a deeper paint colour, an interesting mirror or lighting can completely transform it.
I also think we sometimes focus so much on how a room looks that we forget we experience our homes through all of our senses. How a room smells, how it feels, the lighting and even the things we touch all contribute to our experience of it. A cloakroom might be functional, but there’s no reason it can’t feel incredibly considered too.
For homes where people love to entertain, how much thought should go into the guest experience beyond the main living spaces?
I think the guest experience goes far beyond the main living spaces. The most welcoming homes are the ones where you can feel that someone has thought about how people will actually experience them.
That experience is sensory as much as it is visual. It’s the lighting when you walk through the door, the scent of the house, music playing, somewhere obvious to put your coat, a beautiful soap and hand towel in the cloakroom. They’re very small things individually, but together they create atmosphere, and I think that is what people remember.

Before guests arrive, is there anything you always do to make your home feel ready to welcome people?
Lighting is probably the biggest one for me. I’ll turn off the overhead lights, switch on lamps and make sure the house feels warm before anyone arrives. I also love lighting a candle beforehand because scent has such an immediate effect on how we experience a space. Then it’s music, flowers if I have them and a very quick tidy.
I definitely don’t think a home needs to look perfect to be welcoming. For me, it’s much more about creating an atmosphere that makes people feel comfortable as soon as they walk through the door.
How can a cloakroom reflect the personality of the wider home, despite being such a small space?
I think of it almost as a little snapshot of the rest of the house. It doesn’t necessarily need to match, but it should feel as though it belongs there. You can repeat colours, materials or details that appear elsewhere, while perhaps taking them a little further.
Small rooms are brilliant places to show personality because you can make quite a strong design decision without it becoming overwhelming.
Are there any design principles that become even more important in compact spaces?
Scale becomes incredibly important. One of the biggest misconceptions with small rooms is that everything within them needs to be small. Often, lots of tiny pieces can actually make a room feel more cluttered.
Fewer, more confident choices — such as a generously sized mirror, a beautiful light or a strong pattern — can give a small room much more presence.

What’s one design mistake people commonly make when styling a downstairs loo?
Playing it too safe.
There’s often a temptation to make a small room pale and neutral because we think that will make it feel bigger. But a cloakroom doesn’t necessarily need to feel bigger. Sometimes accepting that it’s small and leaning into that creates a much more interesting room.
Dark colour, pattern and texture can make it feel wonderfully cocooning rather than cramped.
What small touches instantly elevate a cloakroom from functional to memorable?
The details that appeal to more than just the eye. A beautiful wallpaper, layered lighting, a lovely hand wash, a proper hand towel, scent, an interesting mirror or a small piece of artwork.
I think these tiny sensory details are particularly powerful in a cloakroom because it’s such an intimate space. They tell your guests that even this little room has been thought about.

Is there a cloakroom you’ve seen or visited that has stayed with you?
The cloakrooms I remember are rarely the most restrained ones. They tend to be the spaces where someone has taken a risk, whether that’s an incredible wallpaper, an unexpected colour, textured walls, beautiful lighting or artwork you wouldn’t necessarily expect to see in a downstairs loo.
There’s something wonderful about opening the door to a tiny room and discovering a completely different little world.
Do you think the most memorable homes are defined by grand gestures, or by the small details that make guests feel considered?
For me, it’s nearly always the small details. A beautiful home can impress you, but a home that makes you feel good is the one you remember.
We experience homes with far more than our eyes. We remember how somewhere smelled, how the lighting made us feel, the music that was playing, the softness of a chair or the warmth of a room. Often we’re absorbing all of these things without consciously noticing them.
Together they create atmosphere, and ultimately I think atmosphere is what makes a home memorable.
And perhaps that is what makes the cloakroom such an interesting threshold of its own. A small room, briefly entered, where scent, light, texture and detail can quietly change the way we experience a home.
It doesn’t need to be grand. It simply needs to feel considered.