It’s hot. And a brief appreciation for ugly appliances
In the cart this week: a dehumidifier and a portable AC unit, which is not the haul I’d choose to lead with, but here we are.
I’d love to blame my husband for the running list of cooling equipment taking over our hallway, but it’s completely on me. I’m a January baby. I love the idea of summer, but I cannot handle the actual physical reality of a heatwave. Yet somehow, I live in one of the hottest states in the country. It’s a complicated, slightly toxic love-hate relationship, but it’s worth it most days.
I’ve had this exact relationship with summer most of my life.
I’m obsessed with its aura.
The version where a messy fruit-and-cheese board counts as lunch and a high pony with an oversized tee passes for evening wear. The smell of sunscreen, the Hill Country peach stands (especially the ones with the homemade ice cream), keeping a worn-out quilt in the trunk for park picnics, firepits, jalapeño wine, and acoustic music when the sun finally goes down.
But every season carries the bad with the good, and summer’s bad is the absolute scorch. Usually, the heat is manageable. Less so this year, with no peaches in sight and the humidity creeping up through the floorboards.
But the boring, mechanical infrastructure that keeps a house livable is just as much a part of design as a good chair.
It’s going to be a long July.
The Good Stuff:
The American Sleepover: I can’t stop watching the World Cup content. The sheer dopamine of everyone coming here, bringing so much joy to the States, is contagious. I’ve always said being married to a Brit living in America means I get to experience this country twice. Once through my son, once through my husband. Every time he tries a new food, experiences a new place, or makes his first Buc-ee’s run, I get all my firsts again, except better. Someone in the comments last week said it’s as if the world knew we needed help celebrating this year and reminded us why we love this place.
East Fork Pottery’s new Longleaf collection & the little Kitchen Pot for herbs. If you don’t know them, they were founded by potters in Asheville, North Carolina, making dinnerware from local Appalachian clay. The clay is iron-rich, so these tiny mineral speckles bleed up through the glaze, and no two pieces come out the same. The first thing you notice when picking one up is the weight. It feels grounding, like it’s actually there in your hand. A mug you’re still reaching for in ten years is cheaper than the four cute ones you’ll buy and replace twice. That’s the whole math. Buy once.
Also, if you’re eating raw summer tomatoes right now without a proper garlic plate to grate fresh cloves directly into the olive oil before the tomatoes hit, we need to fix that immediately.
The Highwomen. The way they harmonize makes me emotional. Plus, I am completely hyper-fixated on their custom Manuel Couture jackets. My mom introduced me to classic Western fashion when I was little, and I can’t help but love the artistry of a true Nudie suit, the chain-stitch embroidery, and the pearl snaps.
The totes: The Clare V. L’été Tote is the perfect mix of utility and pretty, but if you want a structural print, the Call It By Your Name Maxi Cabas Bandana Tote.
The sunscreen standard: Do not skimp on face protection. The ISDIN Eryfotona Actinica Mineral Sunscreen SPF50+ is what dermatologists actually use. Zero chalky residue, pure skin barrier. Pair it with the HANNI Water Balm Custom Hydration Mist for when you’re baking on the sand.
The sandal: The Jeffrey Campbell Linques Tortoise Jelly Sandals do that nostalgic, slightly ironic ‘90s nod while still looking sharp enough for a casual dinner.
The audio: I’m officially rejecting the phone-scrolling-on-the-beach vibe. I put a Jensen Bluetooth Anti-Skip Portable CD Player in my bag. It forces you to listen to an entire album start to finish, the way it was meant to be heard.
Turkish Towel: The only beach towel worth owning. It dries in minutes, shakes clean instead of dragging half the shore home with it, packs down to nothing, and quietly becomes a wrap, a blanket, a scarf the second the sun drops. One object, four jobs. You already know how I feel about that.
Carabiner: Clip to the strap of your bag. That’s it. Wet swimsuit, damp hat, sandy sandals, all of it hangs off the outside on the walk back instead of soaking the inside of your bag.
White Vinegar: For jellyfish stings. Not the other thing the internet keeps insisting on, which actually makes it worse. Vinegar neutralizes the sting, and you move on with your day.
& a brief appreciation for ugly appliances:
Midea Cube dehumidifier and the Midea Duo smart inverter AC. Unsexy, mechanical, and absolutely flawless at creating a livable micro-climate when the weather outside feels like a personal attack.
I spent the week auditing the house, my closet, and my bank statements, and compiled a list of ten things I am never buying again. Mostly mainstream “luxury” items engineered to fail, and a few aesthetic traps I unfortunately fell for, so you don’t have to.
It goes out Tuesday for paid subscribers and will live in the Buy Once Directory afterward. That directory is really the point of the upgrade, less about a single post and more about a running, weekly updated log of what is actually worth the investment and what isn’t.
Free trial for 7 days. Opening it to 25 people.
Your midnight researcher bestie,
xx
Peyton.