There is a specific, awkward pause that follows the question, ‘So, what do you do?’ at a party or at the hairdressers. In a year where the weekly food shop can send you into a genuine tailspin, admitting that I spend my time hunting for 16th-century wood carvings feels... indulgent. Worse than that, it feels embarrassing. It’s why my 'Drafts' folder is currently a graveyard of posts I’m too hesitant to hit 'Publish' on—each one a casualty of the nagging thought that perhaps beauty is a luxury we can no longer afford to talk about.
Coming from a career in premium and luxury fashion, I’m familiar with this tension. I’ve stood on marble floors where a customer could spend a year’s salary before they’d even finished their first glass of champagne. I saw the extreme end of consumption, but it taught me something vital: the difference between buying for status and buying for soul. Now, I find myself asking: how do we justify the latter when the world feels so deeply impractical?"
It’s time to be practical
We are told to strip back to the basics. But my time in fashion taught me that 'price' and 'value' are rarely the same thing. The most practical item isn't the one that costs the least today; it’s the one that survives the next decade. A heavy linen napkin or a hand-blown glass isn't just a 'frivolity', it is a rejection of the disposable. True sustainability is longevity, and beauty is often the reason we keep something long enough to become sustainable.
Beauty and the soul
Surrounding ourselves with beauty isn't about ignoring the roar of the world outside. It’s about creating an oasis so we can actually handle it. We aren't staying silent about the plight of others; we are simply trying to regulate our own nervous systems. We are curators of our own peace.
The Preservation of Craft: When we value a “nice” thing, we are valuing the person who made it, the hands that restored it, and the history it survived.
The Emotional ROI: Our homes are the only places we truly control. If a specific shade of glaze on a ceramic bowl provides a moment of peace after a stressful day, that isn’t a luxury - it’s a gift to the soul.
Balance
I’m not suggesting we live in a state of opulence - I can’t afford that either, so it will never be on my radar. Balancing an appreciation for design with the reality of 2026 requires a shift in how we talk about collecting:
- Curation over Consumption: It’s not about more; it’s about better.
- Context Matters: Acknowledging that beauty is a privilege doesn’t make the beauty less real - it just, hopefully, means we appreciate it more.
- The “Cost-Per-Joy” Ratio: If an antique rug lasts forty years and makes you smile every morning, then the maths work.
The Bottom Line
If you’ve felt that pang of “should I really be caring about this right now?”—you aren’t alone. But don’t let the embarrassment kill your eye for detail. We need people who care about how things are made. We need people who see the value in the “unnecessary.”
Does this resonate?
If you’ve ever felt that same pang of hesitation or that “should I really be caring about this right now?” I would love to know I’m not alone.
What is the one piece of beauty in your home or your life that you’re feeling grateful for today? Whether it’s the way the light hits a specific painting, the weight of a well-made ceramic mug, or a fragment of history you’ve rescued from a junk shop, tell me about the “impractical” thing that’s currently keeping you grounded.
From rainy London,
Leah x