Whenever Mark Hearld posts a photograph of his house on Instagram, someone will inevitably comment: “All I can see is the dust!” To which Hearld will reply: “Commiserations!” Because if all you can see is the dust, then you’re missing everything else: mochaware mugs and Welsh gaudy jugs, rabbit jelly moulds and Staffordshire spaniels, doll’s houses and corn dollies, scented geraniums and Chinese lanterns, Delft tiles and toy theatres, fragments of stained glass and Windsor stick chairs, stuffed ducks and stoneware mustard pots, rag rugs and quilted cushions and the whole Hearld gallimaufry of paintings, prints, photographs, postcards, collages, mobiles and vintage and collectible Lyle’s golden syrup tins.
“I don’t like interiors that are too primped and prissy,” says Hearld, 49, over tea and coffee
