Setting the scene
Floral designer Tamsin Scott’s seaside bungalow is a happy mix of family treasures and photoshoot props, with a backdrop of vibrant colour and, of course, beautiful blooms
Peering through the gate that opens onto Tamsin Scott’s cottage in the seaside town of Rye in Sussex, I imagine the star of a period drama, trailing skirts swishing as she makes her way up the garden path. Barely contained planting cascades across flagstones: a froth of snapdragons, lupins and lavender. The effect, says Tamsin, is the quintessence of English gardening; ‘rambling, luxuriant, a little eccentric’.
Tamsin knows about these things. As the floral designer behind Amazon’s genre-fluid The Great, and director Autumn de Wilde’s macaroon-hued film version of Emma, her job is to ensure that the flora is narrative appropriate. A hothouse lily for Jane Austen’s ‘aspirational’ Emma, and ‘over-the-top cascades of wild roses’ for Elle Fanning as Catherine the Great. ‘Flowers,’ she says, ‘can tell their own quiet story.’
Flowers also bring a sense of poetry to the home she shares with her husband, Oliver, and their two children. The 1820s listed property – one of the earliest bungalows in Britain – was built for the gardener who tended the nearby estate. In summer, the garden is perfumed with honeysuckle and roses; the venerable fig tree throws a green shade. From the treehouse, made from salvaged wooden panelling, you can glimpse the sea through the porthole window.
‘We used to live in the house with two front doors in the middle of Rye, but I’d been eyeing up this place for a while,’ she says. Visiting for the first time, she clutched the estate agent’s hand. It was a thesp-ish moment for drama school graduate Tamsin. ‘I wept… because I knew that I didn’t need to go inside.’
Loose covers in ticking hide black velvet sofas, while lace cloths disguise stereo loudspeakers. The reclaimed glass lamp bases were brought back to life with a mix of Pooky, Oka and homemade shades. Tamsin collects representations of still-life flowers from travels or local auctions; 
her mother’s old boarding school suitcases are now used as coffee tables and filled to the brim with Christmas decorations. To the left of the fireplace is an old marching drum, bought from the Portobello Road market. The moonshaped table on the right was a cotton reel prop from a photoshoot; 
the swan image above the fireplace was a birthday gift from friend and fashion photographer, Tim Walker, shot at Stoke Park Pavilions in Northamptonshire. ‘We both love swans!’ says Tamsin.
Over time, she has transformed the L-shaped interior, ‘sucking the wild, meadowy’ outside inside: ‘I’ve made sure that every window looks out onto one of my favourite flower beds.’ The living room was painted in Edward Bulmer’s Invisible Green, and Tamsin hand-painted the wide stripes – like a vintage big top – in one of the bedrooms. Meanwhile, she widened the hallway, adding a ‘mishmash’ of art and antiques ‘to glue it all together’. Her great-grandmother’s cruiseholiday trunk hides the record player in the sitting room. There are props, too – an overscaled cotton reel turned into a table, and a chickenwire swan, salvaged from past productions.
Like the influential mid-century florist Constance Spry, who also worked in film, Tamsin is a fan of the swan-shaped vases that glide serenely across table tops and shelves. ‘The earliest ones date from 1900 and were made by potteries like Goebel or Hornsea. My grandmother collected them and used to name each one. There’s Cedric in the kitchen, Maude on the dresser and Gertrude in the sitting room.’
‘Much of the hand-me-down Spode was only ever for display, so I love using them now. I can remember special meals eaten off each plate’
A swan-like pedalo drifts across a lake in the photo by Tim Walker, which hangs above the fireplace. Tamsin has known the fashion photographer, renowned for his ethereal, bloom-strewn imagery, since childhood and occasionally works on shoots with him. In their early twenties, the friends would forage for flowers for his early assignments. She recalls moonlit nights, shaking trees to release blossoms, like fragrant confetti. Walker once called her ‘the Constance Spry to my Cecil Beaton’. His style –a mix of romance and surrealism – has been a huge influence. ‘We have similar taste and like to see flowers as art. Sometimes, when I am working, I feel that I’m painting a picture; when I start I’ll have no idea of how the flowers will look in the end. I love that freedom.’
The former BBC journalist learnt about flowers when she decided to ‘chuck in’ her media job and take a job at influential florist Nikki Tibbles’ Wild at Heart shop in west London. In those days she lived on a tugboat on the canal by Ladbroke Grove. ‘It became a flower boat studio with a bed, a new boyfriend [now her husband] and two cats, plus a London taxi for deliveries.’
Nowadays her studio is an old apple store nearby, where the green door ‘with its soft patina of time’ opens on to views of the valley. Silk flowers wrap around beams; vintage cabinets are filled with reference books. ‘I use everything from vintage seed catalogues to paintings to get the details right. Wallpaper’s a good starting point. The Victorians, for instance, used rich Gothic styles; after the 1840s, they shifted to macaroon colours with silvery golds. By the 1940s flowers had become more fun: a spray of Love lies Bleeding, or a curled rhubarb leaf.’ For Trust, the John Paul Getty biopic, Tamsin chose brash, 1980s blooms: ‘I’m actually rather fond of how bad flowers were then.’
In medieval times, it was traditional to give friends a posy or ‘tussie-mussie’ of flowers to ward off spirits – and smells. Tamsin likes to make her own version. On country walks, she gathers up feathers and wildflowers. Secured with a ribbon and dangling from her front door, her modern posy has a double meaning. You might choose to see it as a talisman or, as she puts it: ‘just a pretty thing to adorn your home’. gypsyroseflowers; @gypsyrosesets
‘Some of the best inspiration can be found by just gallivanting around the gardens of times gone by. The National Trust and English Heritage are fantastic resources’
Inspired by legendary design editor Min Hogg, Tamsin painted the big-top stripes in the children’s bedroom: ‘Stripes are so much fun, aren’t they? I just love this colour combo and it’s a happy glimpse when I walk past.’ The raised bed has been through three generations of one very ‘Rock ‘n’ Roll’ family, and one of Tamsin’s family; 
more vertical stripes and handmade cushions in the guest bedroom; 
a meandering path, bordered by quintessential English blooms, leads up to the front door of the bungalow, painted in Nancy’s Blushes by Farrow & Ball. Peeking over the top of the stable door is dog Sparrow; 
the garden is a perfect playground, with a treehouse made from salvaged wood and high enough to glimpse the sea from the porthole window.