Screen printer Hannah Carvell is one of Ideal Home's new Open House contributors, sharing her thoughts on colourful home design for a creative family to live in. See the rest of her articles here.
I have spent hours (and I mean hours) researching, hunting, ogling, and shopping for knobs online. Not always for my kitchen either - they’ve been for built-in wardrobes, old furniture (usually from Facebook Marketplace or eBay), pantry doors, even actual doors. Knobs are a surprisingly important part of making my home my own, and the possibilities feel endless. It’s become a long-running joke with my husband that while other people watch TV in the evenings, I’m on the sofa intently scrolling for knobs.
The result? I’ve built up quite the collection. Sometimes I’ll order “just one” to test, other times I’ll bulk-buy vintage ones on eBay only to regret it. And occasionally I just stumble across knobs I love in shops and can’t resist - they end up in a drawer waiting for a project that doesn’t yet exist.
My current kitchen is the third I’ve replaced the knobs on, and each time it has completely transformed the space. In one house, five years after installing a brand-new kitchen, I was craving change. Replacing it wasn’t an option, so I repainted it from safe Farrow & Ball James White with standard knobs to an almost-black green. I paired it with heavy solid brass knobs from Corston, and the effect was dramatic: suddenly the whole kitchen looked elegant and grown-up.
Later, when I installed my dream DeVol kitchen, I fell head-over-heels for their aged brass knobs and matching catches — at £75 each. Eye-watering, yes, but mid-reno I barely blinked. “It’s our forever home,” I told myself, dazzled by their beauty. They were gorgeous, tinged with green as if naturally aged, and I still think they were worth every penny if your budget allows.
My current Somerset kitchen couldn’t be more different: small, with dated Ikea pine units. A full refit wasn’t possible, but I loved the charm of its Aga, big garden-view window and built-in pantry. So I worked with what I had, repainting the units in Farrow & Ball Crimson Red (a soft terracotta, not scarlet), and the window frames in Dix Blue to tie in with existing pale tiles. For knobs, I found brilliant budget brass ones from French Furniture Fittings at £3.90 each - plus a dupe of the DeVol latch for under the sink. Add some café curtains I stitched myself using fabric from Merchant & Mills, and the whole space now feels colourful, personal and full of charm. For around £250, it looks completely refreshed.
And still, the obsession continues. For my kids’ wardrobes, I’ve sourced fun, colourful handles to contrast their bright paintwork. A dressing table in my daughter’s room now sports two porcelain cat knobs from an old Anthropologie sale (proof my hoarding pays off). An old pine dresser sits waiting in the conservatory, and I can’t stop daydreaming about Matilda Goad’s pistachio knobs with brass star backplates or her bamboo handles. Out of budget for now, but that’s the joy of knobs: there’s always something new to discover.
