House Decoration – tips for ladies from the Queenslander.

The Queenslander advised ladies to cast aside their embroidery hoops, and use paint, brushes and the inspiration found in nature to transform their homes. (It was assumed that ladies had nothing better to do with their days than crochet or attempt arts and crafts-style makeovers.)

Flourishes for the Drawing Room.

The Queenslander offered some style inspo for ladies who longed to beautify their homes.

There are certainly no neglected nooks or corners here. Everything has been adorned within an inch of its life. (Richly ornamented piano in a drawing room of a house at Maroon, c 1895)
I spy a few walls and skirting boards in need of a spot of enhancement. Perhaps a graceful, painted vine?(Grandfather Day sitting reading a book in the sitting room of Mamstead homestead, 1890)
Borders and trims? Check. Sadly, no artisanal melon vines . (Interior view of the sitting room of a home in Clayfield, c 1915.)
If your piano doesn’t have bizarre steer horn vases, you can compensate with subtle flourishes. Lots of them. Everywhere. (Piano in the drawing room of Tir-Na-H-Oige, East Brisbane, 1905.)

Flourishes for those with wallpaper.

In the 19th century, a home with wallpaper was seen as a status symbol. No raw boards or rough paint jobs would do for the rising classes. A lady might think that a tastefully wallpapered room would require a little less personal creative input. The Queenslander had news for any lady who might have entertained such idle thoughts. Borders. On windows, doors, skirting boards, the lot. And of course, the job of creating and applying these borders would fall to the lady of the house.

This wallpapered drawing room has an almost monastic simplicity about it, compared with what is to follow. (Drawing room of the residence connected to the Bank of New South Wales, Brisbane.)
Someone has clearly read the Queenslander. There are decorative borders and contrasting wallpapers as far as the eye can see. (Nicely furnished parlour at Wolverhampton, Townsville, 1905.)
When neither one nor one’s servants have read the Queenslander. One forgoes the vine and flower hand-painted border for something a bit more gilded. (Drawing room at Stanley Hall during E.G. Blume’s occupancy, c. 1910).
When you’re Vice-Regal, you can go big. I don’t think Lady Chelmsford would have felt the need to potter about with a paintbrush in this setup. (Government House, October 1907)

And the winner is…

Utterly exhausting to look at? Check. (Interior view of the living room at Canning Downs Station, Warwick, c 1901.)

The Queenslander advocated for no “blank, uninteresting” walls, and no “neglected nooks or corners.” Canning Downs followed that dictum, in spades.

Bilious floral print wallpaper with the complimentary border up top? Check. Big leather armchairs? Check. Knick-knacks galore? Check. Piano? Check. The leopard skin flung on the wall as if the poor creature’s last act was to crash-land on it? Check. There is nowhere for the eye to rest. The Queenslander would be pleased.

Queenslander (Brisbane, Qld.: 1866 – 1939), Saturday 21 August 1875, page 11.

All photographs are taken from the State Library of Queensland digital collection, and are out of copyright. AI colourisation by Copilot.

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