Hi friends,
How are we? No, really. How are we holding up?
I’m writing this from my kitchen table, where I’ve spent the last 20 minutes compulsively opening and closing the same drawer because I’m testing new hardware for my mom’s kitchen. My husband walked by and said, “Are you okay?” And honestly? I don’t know. Debatable.
Here’s what I do know: I just spent three hours writing what might be my favorite newsletter ever, about cabinet pulls. Yes. Cabinet pulls. And while I was obsessing over brass patinas and unlacquered finishes like a completely normal person, my brain kept circling back to something I heard recently: existential whiplash.
That feeling where you’re supposed to care about drawer slides and grocery lists while also lying awake, wondering if we’re all going to be okay.
Where the world feels impossibly heavy, but your kid needs a snack and you’re still researching faucets at 11:42 PM.
I've always been the person who feels everything deeply. Sometimes, to the point where it feels isolating. And I used to think caring about beautiful details was frivolous when bigger things were falling apart. However, I've come to realize something: creating beauty isn't selfish. It's hopeful.
It's saying, “I believe we're going to be here long enough for this to matter.”
So yes, I'm going to get emotional about cabinet hardware. The small, ordinary things we get excited about anchor us in our lives. They remind us that life is still happening, that joy can coexist with grief, that we can make our corner of the world a little more beautiful even when everything else feels chaotic.
Here, in this space, you're safe. You're loved. You're not alone. And we can absolutely care about both the state of the world AND whether our drawer pulls feel substantial when we grab them.
Because honestly? If I'm opening these cabinets 40 times a day (and yes, I counted), they better feel like a tiny luxury. Every. Single. Time.
The Buy Once Directory
Okay so, last week, I couldn’t sleep (shocking, I know), and somehow by 3 AM Saturday, I'd saved 10 different “buy it for life” lists. My notes app looked like a dissertation. 47 browser tabs open. Third coffee. Adding “leather work gloves - 1987” to my research like this was normal behavior.
☁️ THE OVERLOOKED
You need a “pretend reset” ritual, even if your life is still a beautiful disaster.
I'm not talking about Marie Kondo-ing your entire existence. I mean lighting one candle, making your bed even though you'll unmake it in 12 hours, wiping down counters that’ll be messy again by dinner. It's not about perfection, it's about intention. The laundry can stay on the chair; we're just changing the vibe.
✨ THE GOOD STUFF
Jill Sharp Weeks' Santa Fe home is everything I want to be when I grow up. Sun-bleached terracotta, perfectly imperfect textures, and that effortless collected-over-time feeling that makes you want to move to New Mexico immediately.
If you haven't fallen down this rabbit hole yet, clear your afternoon.
I take on a few design clients each month. It's like therapy, but for your house. And cheaper. If you're interested, just reply. No formal process. We'll figure it out.

🫐 Blueberry milk coffee: sounds chaotic, slightly purple, surprisingly good.
📖 Bobbi Brown’s new book: just preordered.
🪑 Summer chairs: woven textures, relaxed lines, and chairs that make you want to stay outside until mosquitoes stage an intervention.
🎶 Finneas & Ashe: a new band that somehow scratches my Fleetwood Mac itch without feeling like a copy.
And now:
Hardware is one of my favorite things in the world to source. Why? Because it changes everything about a room without requiring a renovation, demolition crew, or a $20,000 quote that sends you spiraling.
I like to call it jewelry for your house, and this might be one of my best roundups yet.
What you get when you upgrade:
The complete hardware vault with my actual, no-gatekeeping sources
The unlacquered brass that patinas just right
How to source “heirloom” hardware on Etsy without getting scammed
The one thing nobody tells you to check when ordering knobs online (seriously, it matters)
The $30 brand designers won’t tell you about (because they want it all for themselves)
I spend an embarrassing amount of time sourcing cabinet pulls.
Like, if a therapist saw my browser history, they’d probably double their rate. But this is the hill I’m willing to die on:
“Hardware is the detail that makes the biggest difference, and the one most people completely overlook.”
Hardware is literally the thing you touch most in your house. Every morning, coffee. Every late-night snack run. Every 11 PM stress-cleaning session (just me?).
Your hands know quality, even if your brain doesn’t register it right away.
The difference between a room that feels fine and one that feels quietly expensive?
It’s almost never the big stuff. It’s the details, the ones you barely notice but instantly feel.
Weight matters more than finish – Cheap hardware feels hollow. Good hardware has substance. Your hand knows the difference immediately.
Mix, don't match – All the same hardware everywhere looks like a hotel renovation show (and you know they got a discount for buying in bulk!) Layer different styles in the same finish family.
Consider your daily habits – Big pulls on heavy drawers and smaller knobs on upper cabinets that you open frequently. Function first, then beauty.
Brass that's not trying too hard – Think aged patina, not shiny new penny
Oversized pulls on islands – Because your coffee-making station deserves drama
Texture that feels good in your hand – Smooth is boring, give me some grip
Hardware that looks like it has stories – I want my cabinet pulls to feel like vintage finds
Want the full Hardware Vault?
If you’re opening these drawers 40 times a day (remember, I counted), they better feel like a moment with every push and pull.
Unlock the Hardware Vault Below