Choosing Furniture Pieces [Part 1]

Getting Unstuck at Home #003

Stuck between wanting to get it right and terrified you’ll get it wrong?

This table came from the IKEA scratch-and-dent section in 2008. One side was caved in. I didn’t care. Priced at $50, I felt like I’d won the lottery. I was living on biweekly paychecks of $900 while holding the same aspirations for a home as I do today. It was exactly what I imagined a hip, early-twenties graphic designer would have in her charming, creaky, three-floor apartment. The best part? I could actually afford it.

Moments like that don’t happen often—right piece, right size, right price, and a full-body yes. I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve had that kind of clarity around a purchase.

I know from your messages that this is where a lot of people get stuck. You can pin your dream room, build a gorgeous mood board, know exactly how you want a space to feel—and still freeze the moment it’s time to click “add to cart.” (Or if you’re like me, you close your eyes, hit purchase, then spiral into a round of customer service emails trying to undo the damage.)

It’s especially hard with the big pieces. They cost more, stay longer, and ideally solve more than one problem.

It can feel like we’re being dramatic about the whole thing, but yes, choosing furniture is overwhelming. We’re trying to find something high-quality, timeless, and not wildly expensive. That’s not a casual errand.

So let’s talk about it.

Why Choosing Furniture Overwhelms Us

Furniture can be expensive. And big. And, ideally, not something we want to replace in two years. So we try to get it right. We research. We compare. We optimize. But without a clearly defined goalpost, “right” becomes a moving target. And when the stakes feel high but the outcome is fuzzy, we spin. Or maybe, shut down. Or decide it’s all too much and scroll Zillow instead. It’s easy to stay stuck in that loop.

Our Complex Feelings About Budget

The budget part can be surprisingly emotional, and is often stuffed with belief systems we inherited from our families and the collective conscience. If your budget feels “too low,” there can be shame. If your budget is “high,” there can be guilt. And either way, we are telling ourselves stories about what it says about us.

But here’s the thing: There is no moral value in what you spend or don’t spend. That’s the story we tell ourselves when comparing. Wanting beautiful things on a tight budget doesn’t make you unrealistic. Spending more doesn’t make you shallow. These shame stories keep us stuck. It just is what it is. And we can only work with what is.

Your Price Ranges Are Boundaries—Not Limitations

For transparency: A lot of the furniture in our home was gifted through brand partnerships (in exchange for creating content and creative assets for the brand to use). When I spend money on furniture and decor, here’s an example of my personal price ranges:

• Couch: $1,700-$4,000

• Dining Table: $900 - $2,000

• Accent Chair: $600 - $900

• Rug: $500 - $3,000

I dream about buying a vintage sofa from South Loop Loft. I love watching Athena Calderone create beautiful spaces with priceless antiques. But I’m not shopping where she’s shopping. I’m taking inspiration and creating from what is available to me: both energetically and financially. Think of it as boundaries for creation, not limitations.

Yes, my home was built in large part by writing about it. But it was also created by haggling the dealers at Chairish, visiting thrift shops, staining a thirteen-dollar coffee table, waiting for sales, and being realistic about the fact that my whole family is really hard on our stuff. It's all in flux. I’ve learned to appreciate this slowness, the unpredictability. Clarity comes into focus slowly. Finished becomes a feeling, not a formula.

Sometimes we have to untangle a lot of complicated feelings about what it means for a house to feel “done” in order to find this kind of freedom—the kind where one can not spend the money and be okay with waiting for the right piece to float into their orbit. Sometimes it takes spending way too much and feeling awful about abandoning your boundaries to do things differently. It takes work to get here. But it is worth it. This slower, more intuitive way of buying is exactly what I need in my current season of life.

I’m curious to hear what you think you might need to get unstuck? How could you feel ready to make a purchase?

Stay tuned for part two of Getting Unstuck at Home: Choosing Furniture Pieces.

In the next dispatch this Thursday, I’ll be sharing:

• Why defining what “good enough” means for you can be a powerful step in the right direction.

• How to hone in on what you want.

• How I choose furniture for our home.

• Where I shop for furniture at every price point.