It is tempting to begin a styled shelf by hunting for pretty things to sit on it, but the objects always look better when they are arranged around the books rather than the other way round. Pull out the volumes you actually want to see, the ones with spines you like the colour of, and lay them on the floor in loose piles. Group them by height, or by spine colour, or simply by the mood they give you.
Once the books are in roughly the right proportions on the shelf, you will see the gaps. Those gaps are where the pebbles, dried stems and charity-shop finds go. A shelf that is three-quarters books and one-quarter objects reads as a library; one that is half and half reads as a display; one that is mostly objects with a few books propped against the ends reads as a shop window. Aim for the first.
The quickest way to make a shelf feel collected rather than cluttered is to vary the direction of the spines. Stand most books upright, then lay two or three flat in a short stack somewhere along the shelf. Rest a small dish or a single pebble on top of the stack. This gives you a natural plinth without buying anything, and it breaks the repetitive vertical rhythm that makes a row of paperbacks look like a waiting room.
Found objects are the heart of a collected look, and they cost nothing but a walk. A smooth grey pebble from a beach in Pembrokeshire, a piece of slate, a shell with a chip in it, a horse chestnut that has gone glossy with age: all of these sit beautifully on a shelf. The trick is restraint and scale. One good pebble on a stack of books is worth more than a bowl of twenty small stones, which starts to look like a gravel tray.
Think about texture as well as shape. A rough lump of quartz next to a smooth grey pebble next to a matt ceramic dish gives the eye something to travel across. Put the darkest object low and slightly off-centre, then balance it with something pale on the other side of the shelf. Avoid lining things up in a neat row at the front edge; push some back, let others sit forward, and let the depth of the shelf do some work.
Dried stems are forgiving, cheap and quietly British in feel. A few seed heads gathered in late summer and hung upside down in a dark cupboard for a fortnight will last for years if you keep them out of direct sun. Honesty seed pods, dried hydrangea heads, teasels, lavender, and the feathery heads of wild carrot all look handsome in a simple glass bottle or a small stoneware jar.
A single dried stem in a bottle, placed beside a stack of books, does more for a shelf than a large vase of fresh flowers, because it feels like something you noticed and kept rather than something you bought on a Friday.
Charity shops are where a shelf gets its personality. Look for small objects with a bit of weight and a bit of history: a chipped enamel mug, a brass candlestick, a little wooden bowl, a framed postcard, a chunky glass paperweight. Avoid anything that is merely decorative and hollow, because these tend to look thin and busy once they are on a shelf.
Before you buy, hold the object against the shelf in your mind. Does it echo a colour already in your books? Does it bring a texture you do not have yet, such as metal or glazed ceramic? Does it have a job, even a small one, like holding a pen, a candle or a handful of dried stems? Three or four good charity-shop pieces across a whole bookcase is plenty. More than that and the shelf starts to look like a car boot sale, however nice each thing is individually.
Once everything is on the shelf, step back and take a photograph on your phone. The camera flattens the arrangement and shows you what the eye misses: clumps of similar objects, awkward gaps, a tall item too close to the edge. Move one or two things and photograph again. Most shelves need at least three passes before they settle.
The final rule is the hardest one. A styled shelf should still be usable. Leave the shelf you actually reach for at eye level, and put the display pieces high up or at the ends where nothing needs to come down in a hurry. Dust is part of the deal, so keep the number of small objects low enough that a quick flick with a feather duster once a fortnight is all it takes.
Above all, let the shelf change. Add a new pebble after a walk, swap the dried stems when the seasons turn, and take one thing off whenever you bring one thing on. That gentle turnover is what makes a display feel collected: not frozen, but tended.