Moving Beyond Mass-Produced Decor
Will the things in your home bring joy to a new generation or are they destined for the dump?
This week I stumbled across the Instagram feed of Christina Wade, a woman transforming old quilts into pillows, stuffed animals, and book bags. You can (and should!) find her on IG @thehalseyhomestead.
Her Instagram is stunning. But that isn’t what stopped me in my tracks.
The pieces that she makes are beautiful and honor the essence of their first creators—and demonstrate the value of anything well-made.
As I scrolled her grid, I was struck by two things: well-made things live multiple lives, and well-made is what we remember.
Well-Made Things Live Multiple Lives
Things that are well-made not only live long and bring joy to their original owners, but they can also be handed down and enjoyed by a whole new generation—or, as is the case with these pieces, be remade into something that a new family will love.
The quilt that once snuggled a little girl full of dreams and plans, that comforted her when she was sick, that she hid under as protection from the things that go bump in the night…
That quilt didn’t get tossed. It got transformed.
Now it is a pillow to cushion a young wife's head as she snuggles on the couch next to her equally young husband, and they dream of the future that they are building together. It is a stuffed rabbit that will comfort a feverish toddler. It is a business that allows a young mom to face the future, unafraid of the cold, for she has looked after her household well.
Holiday Decor That Actually Lasts
Then I saw her seasonal decor. And it hit different.
Her creations will easily last through the years. So few things are made to last these days. I walked into a big box store recently and paused to take in the front display—hundreds of square feet of space piled with cheap, plastic imitations of the season.
By next year—maybe the year after—it will be broken, faded, out of style. So we will tromp back to the store to buy more.
We have been fooled into thinking that because we hang a garish orange and black string of tinsel on our doorknob, we know what autumn is. Or that because WallyWorld was out of the 10-foot-tall inflatable reindeer that we saw on Pinterest, our holiday season is ruined.
Are there ornaments that you remember from your childhood Christmas tree? Can you still remember the smell of the quilt that you snuggled under at Grandma’s house?
I can, and I miss it.
I also remember staring for hours at a beautiful oil painting of boats coming into a harbor at night. I would make up endless stories about the sailors, the town, where those boats had been, and where they were going next. One of my uncles brought the painting back from a trip to Japan and “stored” it on my grandparents' wall for years and years—until he had a spot for it at his own house. I don’t know now if the painting was original or a print, but I do know that it wasn’t something that you could buy at Hobbies Are Us. I loved that painting. I’ve never loved a painting from a big box store.
"Pinterest" or "Us"?
So I look around my own home and wonder: do I have things simply to have them? Because it was more convenient to grab that pink-frosted snowman from the endcap and be done? Because Pinterest told me I should? Are the things in my home all mass-produced, same-as-every-other, and destined only for a landfill?
Or am I actually curating a home that is full of beautiful, good, and lovely things that bring our family joy? Do they speak to who we are? Reflect our values?
Will my kids and grandkids look back on our home with fondness one day? Will they want to take anything from our home to theirs? Or will a big truck pull up to my doorstep once I am gone and drive away with all my things thrown in haphazardly because no one cares, and any of it could be bought new on clearance at the store next Tuesday anyway?
If I am honest, there is much more of “Pinterest” than “Us” in our home. But I am working to fix that. I’m working to find the well-made that reflects our family and our values and purge the artificial “same-old-same-old.”
In our home, having well-made things means that we have less because well-made costs more. It either costs money because we buy it, or it costs time because we make it.
But less is helpful anyway because, with less, it is easier to be the master of your stuff instead of being your stuff’s slave.
When I don’t have to spend hours cleaning, dusting, and sorting—or hunting for things that I cannot find—I have more time to press fall leaves with my children or snuggle up under the beautiful quilt my friend made and read great books out loud while drinking hot cocoa.
What Will Your Grandchildren Remember?
The goal isn’t just decluttering. It isn’t minimalism. The goal is legacy. My goal is to fill my home with things that carry stories. Things that last. Things that were made with care and will live on long after I am gone.
What’s something in your home that you hope your grandchildren will remember?