'I went out of my way to make it as 1980s as I could. It is now shades of salmon and apricot': Laurence Llewelyn-Bowen on his first house in the country

Where is it?

In Cirencester. My first, my only and my last house in the country. We have tried to sell it, but it didn’t want us to and it’s now raising the standard for multi-generational living. There are two independent units, one for myself and [my wife] Jackie and one for [my daughter] Hermione and her family.

We’ve also built a house out of a garage block for my other daughter Cecile and her family. We’re all on the same courtyard — rather like a Birmingham back-to-back.

A quick description.

It’s an eyecatching, Grade II-listed farmhouse on the edge of a village that’s sited at the slummy end of the Cotswolds, close to the King and the late Jilly Cooper rather than the Beckhams. If I sat on my roof I could probably see Swindon.

The house has a reputation for being haunted, although I’ve never seen anything. Perhaps they’re star-struck or freaked out by the wallpaper and so they have decamped to an abandoned nunnery.

It was pretty affordable at £1.2 million, but having been used as an antique dealer’s den it originally had no kitchen. We stripped it right back and because we had a great rapport with our planners it all went rather well. People always go in fighting, but the secret is to talk to them.

How did you find it?

Twenty years ago when we were living in Greenwich, Jackie decided that there was something rather vulgar about living in London in your 40s, and so we decided to make a run for it. We saw it advertised in Country Life. There was no shopping around. Jackie viewed just this house and she rang me while I was filming in India, saying: ‘I really like it. Shall I buy it?’ You can watch the entire moment on YouTube as I had a camera crew with me.

What sold it to her?

It ticked a lot of our boxes; for example, it had a cottage for Jackie’s PA, it was a project, the garden was nudging a couple of acres, it was on the way to our cottage in Cornwall, and it was near a station — Kemble, the poshest in the world.

Was it a smooth purchase?

We were more or less cash buyers, nobody lived there, and so it was pretty straightforward, which is just as well as we had a camera crew following our buying journey. They were, however, rather disappointed as they like ‘jeopardy’.

What do you love about the area?

Its people. When I told a producer that we were moving to Gloucestershire, he said: ‘Why are you moving to the poshest county; they hate telly folk,’ but they really didn’t and it was lovely. One neighbour was a little disappointed as he had been looking forward to meeting Bullseye’s Jim Bowen. On the school run you bump into your planner, or the Earl or the Amazon delivery man.

We also love our multi-generational living, which grew out of lockdown and which makes us amazingly happy. Until the 20th century, this is exactly what everyone had been doing for thousands of years, so the 20th century was wrong and I’m so pleased it’s gone. Let’s not do anything like that again.

Favourite aspect of the house?

It’s basically L-shaped and Jackie and I live in the older bit and Hermoine’s crew have the Grand Designs extension that was put on by the 1640s equivalent of Kevin McCloud. The refurbishment in the 1980s to turn it into an emporium meant that they raised the ceilings, meaning some really weird window placements. I adore our drawing room and as part of its refurbishment I went out of my way to make it as 1980s as I could. It is now shades of salmon and apricot, and there’s a large, unrepentant pattern going on.

I remember describing all this to Jilly Cooper, who was laughing like only she could laugh, and it’s a great sadness to me that she died before she got to see our Jilly-inspired Rivals-esque drawing room. It is a complete antidote to the Cotswolds cliché of puritanical minimalism and shades of greige, with a couple of bits of very, very uncomfortable modern furniture and a pitchfork in the corner.

Best memory of living there?

I can’t commit to one as the memories keep coming. This is the longest we’ve ever lived anywhere, so this house has been all about children going away to boarding school, university and film school, children coming home, then returning with husbands, getting married and grandchildren being born.

This house is a repository of us. You need to see your home as the museum of you and the background to everything important that ever happens to you. It’s a big emotional investment. Don’t treat it lightly and think, ‘I’ll find something better and make a couple of quid’.

Actually, there’s so much more to it than that. We have now moved away from that Noughties obsession when we all had to be Sarah Beeny and we worshipped Kirstie and Phil as minor deities. Property is a very irritating way of making money, and it’s a bad way of making happiness. Find somewhere you love — and love it. The more you put into it and the more you do to it, think about it, redecorate it, the more you make it you and the more powerful and supportive it becomes.

Biggest indulgence?

The biggest psychological indulgence was laying a vinyl floor in the kitchen to my own design. It doesn’t take any prisoners; it is orange and lime green and it’s a festival of 1970s Spanish-inspired tile motifs. To make it worse, I covered the large fridge in the same pattern. It’s inescapable, but I think this is one of the reasons the house is enjoying having us. It loves our larger-than-lifeness.

Laurence Llewelyn-Bowen is an artist, interior designer and TV personality. He helped to set up the Llewelyn-Bowen Emporium, 42 Castle Street, Cirencester, Gloucestershire, which is now run by his daughter Cecile. He is also the design curator for Rangeford Villages luxury retirement villages.

A shorter version of this feature appeared in the print edition of Country Life on September 9, 2026. Click here for more information on how to subscribe.