The Project: Designing a Sensory Wellbeing Hub for Students
There’s something quietly powerful about being invited back to a place that helped shape your early years.
For me, school was a mix of treasured friendships and difficult lessons. I didn’t know it at the time, but I was navigating autism and dyslexia in a world that didn’t quite make space for difference. Concentration was a daily struggle. I could hear the teacher clearly—but translating thoughts into written words felt near impossible. I often looked around and wondered: How is everyone else writing so easily?
Education doesn’t work as a one-size-fits-all model. And I didn’t fit the mould.
Fast forward 30 years, and I found myself back at Herts & Essex High School—not as a pupil, but as the founder of The Sensory Home, sharing my journey into sensory interior design for student wellbeing.
After a talk I gave on creative careers and the book I wrote on designing for neurodivergent needs, the school reached out. They asked if I’d help transform a small, disused building into a calming, sensory-friendly wellness space for students—a room that would offer comfort and quiet for those who feel overwhelmed during the school day.
Why Sensory Design?
Sensory design isn’t about trends — it’s about how a space makes you feel. It considers light, texture, sound, scent and layout, creating environments that support calm, focus and emotional regulation. For those who are neurodivergent, or simply overwhelmed by busy settings, thoughtful design can offer relief — even safety. It’s subtle, but powerful. And it should be part of every space we create.
The space, known affectionately as The Shack, had once been a school food kiosk. Inside, it still had a fridge, old countertops, and kitchen kit. It was small and cluttered—but had huge potential to become something truly supportive.
The Brief
This was a really personal one for me. Not just because my daughter now walks the same school corridors I once did, but because I could see the potential in that little forgotten space. It could be something special—a quiet retreat for young people who just need a moment to breathe. I often think how lovely it would’ve been to have somewhere like that when I was younger. A calm corner to escape the noise, even just for a few minutes. That thought stayed with me. I knew from the start that I didn’t want it to feel clinical or cold.
Sensory Impact for Students
As the founder of The Sensory Home, I always begin with the same question:
What does this space need to provide — not just physically, but emotionally?
And the answer here was simple: Comfort. Security. Familiarity. I wanted to create a home-from-home environment. Like a living room, but carefully designed with sensory-led interiors in mind.
Soft lighting, natural textures, muted tones — every detail was chosen to help students feel calm and regulated. Especially for those who are neurodivergent, this kind of space offers more than just a place to sit. It’s a space that doesn’t ask anything of them. It gives them room to pause, reset, and return when they’re ready.
Budget
We didn’t have a big budget — in fact, we had very little. So I leaned on years of experience in styling and sourcing, combining thrifted, vintage, repurposed, and carefully chosen new pieces to create a space that still felt intentional and thoughtful.
Good design doesn’t have to be expensive. But it does need to be considered.
I worked closely with the school’s caretaking team to assess what we could salvage, reuse, or adapt. One of them spotted a pile of old wood tucked away on site and suggested we use it to build shelves. That idea became the backbone of the layout.
We turned one full wall into a floor-to-ceiling shelving system — painted in a grounding green and styled with books, plants, and tactile objects. It gave the space structure, storage, and a soft biophilic backdrop that supports the sensory quality of the room.
This kind of project is a reminder that budget constraints can actually spark creativity — and that sensory-led interiors can be both accessible and beautiful.
Acoustics & Colour
One of the first challenges was the acoustics — because let’s be honest, a chilly, echoey hut is the opposite of calming.
To address this, I used tambour acoustic wall panels from The Wood Veneer Hub, who generously subsidised the cost to help bring the space to life. The panels transformed the environment immediately. Their soft texture not only reduced noise but introduced a gentle visual rhythm that shaped the mood of the whole room.
When it came to colour, I didn’t want sterile or stark. I wanted warmth, not whiteness.
I partnered with Graham & Brown, who supported the project using their Colours for Wellness paint collection — a palette I co-created, rooted in a collection of low stimulation colours for home decor.
We chose Chimney Sweep, a deep, grounding green known for its calming effect and its ability to support emotional balance by helping to lower cortisol levels.
The final palette was soft and earthy, incorporating materials and tones that are known to calm the central nervous system. No brights. No clinical whites. Just warmth, calm, and that essential home-from-home feeling.
Sourcing Furniture
Sourcing furniture for a sensory wellbeing space on a tight budget is never easy — but it’s also where the magic often happens. With no funds for anything new, I turned to my favourite haunts: local thrift shops, secondhand stores, and antique markets. And honestly, we struck gold.
A nearly-new linen sofa that you can melt into (£150). A great find, as linen is soft to the touch and ideal for tactility in a sensory space. A vintage 1920s trunk (£20) now used to store cosy weighted blankets. A characterful wooden antique chair with a delicate etched seat — just 50p. One of my favourite finds was an old-school double desk with lift-up lids. Full of character and just right for the students who needed to work away from noise or journal.
To help create a calm, grounded environment, I focused on sensory-friendly lighting — no harsh overheads, just soft, dimmable side lamps with fabric shades that gently diffuse the light.
We layered in a few fuss-free faux plants, a small collection of self-care books and journals, and some sensory tools.
And just like that, the space began to transform. What was once an empty, underused food shack became a cosy, budget-friendly wellbeing room — designed to soothe the senses and support everyday emotional regulation.
Design Process
Pulling everything together is the part I love most. It’s where the space starts to soften.
After years in the industry, I’ve learned that designing isn’t just about how a room looks; it’s about how it feels to be in it. It’s the layout, feel of the materials, the acoustics, response to colour, light… It’s a multi-sensory approach which is an invitation to slow down.
In The Shack, the goal was to create a space that gently supports rather than overstimulates. I worked with low-level lighting, soft layers, and subtle shifts in tone and texture. Nothing shouts, nothing overwhelms — it all sits quietly, doing its job.
That’s always the goal for me. Not to fill a space, but to ground it. So that when someone walks in, they instinctively exhale and have a physiological response to a space.
Testimonial
What made this project especially personal—and even more important to get right—was knowing the school community entirely funded it. Every item, every detail, was made possible through the parents’ hard-earned money, generous Amazon wish lists, local fundraising efforts, and the incredible work of the school’s PTA.
We used the Easter holidays to dress and install the space while the school was quiet, allowing the transformation to unfold and be ready for the pupils’ return.
When we finally opened the doors to the new sensory wellbeing hub, the response was overwhelming. The space resonated deeply. It even caught the attention of the local press.
Caitlin Hayward, the assistant headteacher, summed it up beautifully:
“It’s a lovely space and will be of benefit to those students who need a bit of time out. We’re incredibly grateful to Pippa for all her advice, guidance and skill. It’s doubly lovely that Pippa is a former H&E student and has given her time and expertise back to us..”
That meant a lot.
Designing with Purpose
Every single element in the room was chosen to support emotional wellbeing. Soft, diffused lighting instead of harsh overheads. Tactile materials you want to reach out and touch. Gentle, natural textures that ease the senses.
In sensory design, it’s the small details that do the heavy lifting — a quiet lamp in the corner, a warm blanket within reach, a soft edge instead of a hard one. Nothing in this space shouts. It just gently works.
If you’re curious to see more behind the scenes, we captured parts of the process with before-and-after photos and video over on The Sensory Home Instagram page. The Shack may have started as a forgotten corner of the school grounds, but it’s become one of the most heartfelt, purpose-led projects I’ve ever worked on.
A heartfelt thank you to Graham & Brown, The Wood Veneer Hub, and the brilliant caretaking team—this transformation wouldn’t have been possible without you.
And then, it was finished.
The Shack, as everyone knew it, had become a sanctuary. A calming, sensory-friendly space for students who need a quiet moment. For teachers offering pastoral care. For anyone in the school community who simply needs to feel safe, grounded, and supported.
This project reminded me that when design is rooted in empathy and intention, it can do more than transform a room — it can transform how people feel in it.
To return to my old school not just as a parent, but as a designer with a vision for wellbeing, was a full-circle moment I’ll carry with me always.This project reminded me that when design is rooted in empathy and intention, it can do more than transform a room — it can transform how people feel in it.
To return to my old school not just as a parent, but as a designer with a vision for wellbeing, was a full-circle moment I’ll carry with me always.
A Calming Colour Story
We used warm wood panelling to bring comfort and familiarity — grounding the space visually and acoustically. For the walls, we turned to my Wellness paint range with Graham & Brown: muted, earthy colours designed to soothe rather than stimulate.
These aren’t just pretty shades — they’re rooted in the science of nervous system regulation. Every tone was chosen to help students feel calm, safe, and settled.
Design That Makes a Difference
What started as a quiet design challenge turned into something much more meaningful — a reminder of why I do this work. It’s never just about furniture or finishes. It’s about listening, noticing, and creating spaces that meet people where they are.
This little room may be small, but the intention behind it is anything but. Thoughtful design, led by empathy, really can make a difference — not just to how a space looks, but to how someone feels when they’re in it. And that, to me, is everything.
If this space resonated with you, or you’d like to explore something similar in your own school or community — I’d love to hear from you.
