My desk at home has never once been "styled" in the sanitized, magazine-shoot sense. It's just where things land when I love them too much to put away. But every single piece on it has a story, and I've been meaning to write them all down for a while. So let's go.
The Desk and the Lamp
Both came from Retro Wanderlust, during what I call a "soft search" — I'd been keeping half an eye out for the right desk for a while, no urgency, just waiting for the right thing to show up. And then it did. Brass hardware, little movable trays on the side, gorgeous inlaid wood — a match made in heaven, at a great price, plus 25% off. You don't walk away from that.
It needed a little love once it got home, though — I beeswaxed the wood to bring it back to life and give it that warm, worn-in glow it has now.
The lamp came home the same day. Peacock base, marble foot — I saw it and just thought, okay, this has to come home too.
The Helmet
This one's got history. Back when we lived in San Francisco, my husband helped a security company move out of their building, and they were about to throw this out. He was in his 20s and jumped at the chance to take it home instead. It's seen a lot of apartments since, and it's been tried on by more friends than I can count.
The Alligator Skull
A Christmas gift to my husband a few years ago, from Hunt and Gather. Non-negotiable. No further explanation needed.
The Copper Tassel Fern
Vintage store in Minneapolis — I genuinely can't remember which one anymore. But the copper and brass tassel motif is a running theme through my whole house. I have at least ten tassel pots, magazine racks, whatever else, all over the place. If it has a tassel and it's brass or copper, it's probably already mine.
The Family Photo
The bamboo frame is from Amazon, no shame — but the photo inside is us on a family trip to Disneyland. Fun fact about my house: you won't see a lot of family photos on display, except upstairs and on the fridge. I'd rather fill my walls with art than with faces, even the faces I love most. That's just a personal preference, not a rule everyone needs to follow.
The Amethyst Cluster and the Geode
Both estate sale finds. I have a weakness for crystals and stones at estate sales — they're usually priced like nobody else wants them, which works out great for me.
The Walking Stick Specimen
Also an estate sale find. I don't remember the story behind why someone had a framed walking stick insect in the first place, but I wasn't about to ask questions. It's one of my favorite oddities in the whole house.
The Art
That moody, atmospheric photo on the wall was taken by my husband. I had it framed as a gift for him — one of my favorite "found the perfect way to celebrate something he made" moments.
The Marbled Frame
The frame itself is from HomeGoods, but what's inside it is a piece of hand-marbled wallpaper from Retro Wanderlust. I actually bought a whole roll of that wallpaper — not for a wall, but to use as gift tags, small accents, wrapping details. It shows up in little ways all over the house.
The Candle
From Century Gallery, Lynn Peter DeMarco. I'm genuinely sad they moved out-of-state — that place was a treasure, and I miss having it to wander through.
The Marble Box and the Gem on Top
Both estate sale finds. Simple as that — sometimes a piece doesn't need a whole story, it just needs to be pretty and marble and exactly the right size for the corner it lives in.
Finding the Chair
Here's the thing about this desk: right now, it's all vignette and no seat. I've been on the hunt for the right chair for a while, and I'm the type to take my time with decisions like this — no rushing it just to check a box.
But I think I finally found it: something on wheels, in a light green, with an adjustable seat and arms. I'm still sitting on it (pun intended) before I pull the trigger, but I have a feeling this is the one.
If there's a theme running through this desk, it's that nothing on it was bought to fill a spot. Every piece got there because I loved it first and figured out where it belonged after. That's really the whole philosophy — not just for my desk, but for how I approach a room in general. You don't need a plan. You need things you can't stop thinking about, and the patience to let them find their place.
Have a corner in your own house that's turned into an accidental vignette like this one? I'd love to hear what's on it — send me a message or tag me on Instagram, I'm always up for swapping stories about the weird, wonderful things we all collect.
