i collect objects. the problem: one flat only holds so many kettles, so i started sneaking them into other people's homes. that is the honest version of why this shop exists.
the less honest version took longer to say. buying things started to feel bad — not because things are bad, but because most things are anonymous. you either get the precious artisan object you can't afford to touch, or the mass-produced object nobody can explain. a false binary: either bespoke, or a newborn made it.
but mass production is also beautiful. the thonet no. 14, the moka pot, the duralex glass — industrial triumphs, not apologies. a good machine-made object is craft at scale. knowing that turns a kettle into something you chose, not something that happened to you.
so the shop sells legibility: objects you can explain. where it was made, who designed it, what it's for and why it earns the shelf. every listing gets a sentence, and every sentence gets checked.
and because sullivan's rule was misread for a century — joy is a function, too. the shelf is chosen on that basis.
the rabbit runs the instagram. he is unbothered, he works inside the boxes and he will not be reasoned with. the shop opens soon; stock is arriving now. the first parcel was books, which felt right — the syllabus first, the shelf after.
— the founder, berlin, october 2026
