I have spent an inordinate amount of my life looking at furniture.
My grandmother raised me and began a business importing entire containers of furniture when I was young. Our living room became her de facto “store” — one complete with price tags, a cash register, and a million places to hide (making ours an ideal home for hide-and-seek).


When she opened her real store, I would sometimes go to the Atlanta Furniture Mart with her, spending days walking the showrooms full of things so beautiful it’s almost impossible to narrow down your favorites.
Even as I’ve aged, looking at furniture is how I’ve spent much of my free time for the better part of two decades. I scroll auction listings when I should be answering emails. I browse estate sale photos while waiting for appointments. I have entire folders on my phone dedicated to screenshots of things I loved and, in many cases, did not buy.
A few nights ago, I fell down a rabbit hole looking at the work of POPUS Editions, a London-based furniture editor and interior design studio founded by Fanny and Yannick Gicquel. The company produces a collection of customizable furniture, lighting, and seating that combines Parisian elegance with a distinctly English sensibility, and somewhere between the upholstered seating, sculptural tables, and beautifully odd silhouettes, I lost track of time.
blue and white sofa // pink velvet couch // pink and green armchair // upholstered pouf
The discovery of POPUS is a good reminder of the power of a statement piece, and that form and function can coexist. Something can be both statement-making and comfortable!
I love visiting a Restoration Hardware and sinking into the iconic Cloud Sofa but, truth be told, that sort of furniture isn’t the kind that sticks with me.
What tends to stay with me are the pieces that possess a personality all their own, and I like furniture that makes you curious about the person who chose it (or the one who designed it).


One great piece of furniture can change the entire direction of a room and even a restrained space can become compelling when there is one piece that introduces a little tension, humor, glamour, or surprise.
That realization has probably shaped the way I thrift more than any decorating rule ever has.
When I walk through a thrift store, I’m not looking for perfection. I’m looking for a piece that I know I’ll never see again.
My Fornasetti butterfly desk is a good example. There are countless desks that would do the job equally well, and most of them would probably blend into a room more easily. Yet I can’t imagine replacing it with something more practical because practicality was never the point of this desk.
The same is true of many of my favorite finds. Be it the giant Scheurich vase (a Goodwill find) that looks oversized almost everywhere it’s placed or thee newspaper tables designed by Paola Navone and found at a Habitat Re:Store, I am looking for things that don’t just disappear into the background.
I love a statement.
opera bench // headboard // striped pouf // coffee table // lamp
Looking through the POPUS collection, I realized the pieces catching my eye all shared a similar quality. They weren’t unusual solely for the sake of being unusual. The silhouettes are memorable and the patterns and upholstery are playful and fun but they all serve important functions and appear comfortable, to boot. They are designed by people who understand that furniture can do it all.




Long after I’ve forgotten the sensible pieces, I can still picture the strange ones, or the things that made me laugh, stop scrolling, send a screenshot to a friend, or completely rethink a room. They are rarely the easiest pieces to decorate around, but they are almost always the ones that make a home feel most like you.
And if I’ve learned anything from years of thrifting, it’s that the objects worth bringing home are often the ones that refuse to leave your mind.
FROM THE ARCHIVES
How to Thrift the Matilda Goad Look
Even if you don’t know of Matilda Goad, you know her stuff. She kind of put scallops on the map in 2016 — bringing the previously twee aesthetic from something you’d see in a sorority house to something that looked right at home in the British countryside.







This is why I love going to open houses. Even if the furniture on the whole isn’t really my style, the individual pieces (especially when it’s the owner’s furniture, rather than professional staging) are so fascinating to look at. You can learn so much!
I am planning to do a 'gallery social' in my apartment now that I've finished moving it. But to be honest, it's so time consuming and effort-full to find something with character these days, still 100% worth it
https://sierrahos.substack.com/p/efficient-society