We switched things up in the bedroom… here’s what happened

Hi from the Long-Distance Desk Corporation (LDDC) (aka Circle Back). There are some new names on our subscriber list, so here’s a brief reintroduction of Circle Back:

We started Circle Back in 2021. The impetus? A celebration of our “intimate and magical” long-distance friendship. Nearly five years later, Circle Back is the letter people have described as an “inbox surprise” featuring everything from personal stories to culture journalism. It’s the subjects we find ourselves circling back on throughout the week. It's the stories and musings that actually make it out of the chat or FaceTime and onto the page. It’s the creative work and thoughts that connect our long-distance desk.

Speaking of creative work and support, a little plug from the Hudson Valley desk contingent:

About a month ago, I (Sylvie) launched Sidecar. Yes, another newsletter. But think of this one like an addendum to my work as a freelance writer. As a journalist, there are a lot of stories I don’t get to write, moments that don’t make it into the final piece, and other musings that I wanted a place for. Sidecar is that.

In the theme of seasonal upgrades, last week’s letter was all about "upstate" weekend season, complete with a little flow chart that can help you decide where you should spend a weekend. This week will be a mini guide for all those destinations. Take a look and subscribe!?

DON’T WORRY! This only means good things for Circle Back…More content, more collaboration, more material, all coming to your inbox soon.

SF: Everything Has Its Season

There’s a pivotal moment in every late-twenty to thirty-something’s life: when you realize it’s time to throw out your Ikea furniture. Don’t get me wrong, Ikea serves a brilliant and practical purpose. Although some Ikea items might last forever, part of the whole Ikea scheme is that it really isn’t meant to last more than five years. The price point is such that you can justify buying another piece of Ikea furniture when your current one expires and then keep repeating the cycle into oblivion.

We had to get creative with our clothing storage in our Brooklyn apartment. Since our “closet” was used as Matt’s “office,” dressers and wardrobes were the answer, and Ikea was the supplier. I must confess, though, I was over the Ikea dresser almost as soon as we built it. It was that classic white lacquer engineered wood that felt like a children’s room and wasn’t quite the vibe I wanted for my grown-up New York City apartment. Alas, we were in a bind given the space constraints and the timeline (we needed to get some storage ASAP), and since the dresser really was Matt’s, I shut my mouth about aesthetics.

When we moved that dresser up to Hudson with us, and it proceeded to immediately break, it was like the furniture gods were looking down on me. THEN, Thuma reached out and asked if we’d like to try some products from their collection, and it once again felt like divine intervention.

The dresser came in 5 separate boxes, strangely delivered on two different days, but we needn’t complain. With so many individual pieces, it was a partner project from the perspective of carrying items up the stairs. From the building aspect, I really could’ve done it all myself, but Matt helped. It came together in 5 minutes once everything was out of the box, stacking on top of each other like Legos and screwing together nicely—no fitting flimsy drawer bottoms into ill-machined carved tracks or little pegs into their holes. I will say we were left with an ungodly amount of cardboard, but that’s only because there wasn’t a wisp of styrofoam or shell of a packing peanut. The boxes were satisfyingly constructed like origami, with drawers nestled intuitively and safely for their passage via FedEx to our house.

About his new big boy Thuma dresser, Matt says, “I love that shit.”

A big boy dresser made of beautiful upcycled wood with slow-close drawers. Maybe it’s my imagination, but I feel like the drawers are now neat and tucked when they used to sit overstuffed and carelessly open. It seems like they’re no longer overflowing with graphic tees, but like the dresser was a conduit for an elevated wardrobe and new respect for the items we own.

I hadn’t realized how much the cheap, white-washed, intro dresser affected the room's overall feel. A room that should ooze relaxing and seductive vibes was instead immature and temporary, unsettled in many ways.

Now that the Ikea problem is resolved, all we need is some wall art and a new rug, and maybe we’ll be on our way to a true “Primary Suite.”

IC: Celestial Swap

I like this note by Hunter Harris:

If I’d seen this in the height of summer, I would have never felt more understood. In a typical summer, my ‘fall scaries’ start to creep up at the precipice of August, when the nights begin to cool and the weather app tells me the sun set is before 8PM. Usually, I’d preach, to anyone willing to listen, that summer extends—depending on the year—through September 21/22, and plan a beach day for every remaining weekend. To further commit to my point, as September was settling in, I’d jaunt around, face to the sun (with lots of sunscreen!!), bare legs, sandaled feet, willing the chill of fall to hold off. Last September, I was the poster child of dressing for the weather you want.

This year, I rounded August into September less sunned than usual, with few to no tales of surf. A subtle ennui in the late August heat nudged me toward routines I once reached for at summer’s end, only to realize I may have outgrown them. Trading bare legs for silky pants and sandals for loafers, I’ve found myself embracing Fall (sorry Hunter!)—the buzz of NYFW, the aggressive amount of skeletons popping up around Fort Greene, and jean jacket propaganda—all at once. I’m taking this mental readiness for fall not as a sign that I’m leaving behind my lust for summer (a core part of my identity I'm not quite ready to shake), but as an excuse to be intentional about the way I act upon celestial change. Here’s what’s changed:

1. BED

When I moved to Fort Greene, I adopted the bedframe already in my room, a ‘starter’ frame with a wood veneer headboard, space for under-bed storage, and an attractive-enough profile. I knew I’d eventually upgrade, as I’m particular about the pieces I welcome into my space, head always on a swivel for the perfect addition. So this summer, when Thuma reached out, I welcomed the opportunity to upgrade my sleep with their Classic Bed. Minimal but solid, the bed is cleverly designed to provide luxurious sleep in my current setup (I love the Italian wool headboard add-on) and move with me wherever I land next (the bed is made up of roughly 15 parts). In some ways, this shift served as an early invitation to fall, a welcome reminder that a change in seasons can feel less like loss and more like progression.

2. CLOSET

I have no closets, so I wake up every morning facing a rack full of clothes, which makes switching my wardrobe by season essential. The reminder of an airy slip or finely knit tank in the depths of January is a seasonal depression I don’t wish to feel. This year, I rotated my rack with intention, tucking away 80% of my wardrobe and letting the space itself signal a new aesthetic shift.

3. SMELLS

A gracious guest gifted me a Keap candle, in Wood Cabin, of course. She probably was sick of hearing me remark on it every time we even neared Rhodora. I’m holding the “deep, dark, and mysterious” scent profile as my guiding notes this season.

Outside the bedroom, life is also nudging me in new directions. Less structure, more collaboration, and a few surprises. Here’s a hint.

Bedroom additions, from floor to ceiling

1. The Lilian Rug takes cues from wrought iron fencing and would serve as a welcoming addition to any home

2. Monks Moss blanket, a Hillary Sproatt painting as a bedspread

3. Vintage Amorphic Ceramic Tray would look equally good piled high with cherries as it would as a catch-all atop a dresser

4. Pillar Bench by Thuma would neatly sit at the foot of the bed, perhaps replacing a beloved ‘clothes chair’ as a holding zone for lightly used items

5. Bedside lights inspired by 19th-century drag

6. Solid Wood nightstand by Thuma is the perfect solution to what a friend of Circle Cack recently shared in frustration: “Why is every nightstand midcentury modern?!!”

7. An Alarm Clock that nearly guarantees calm. The product hasn’t launched yet, but the crowdfunding model could bring you one step closer to sleep hygiene

8. Carta d'Armenia incense strips smell extremely good

This post contains affiliate links, which means we may earn a commission on items you purchase (at no cost to you). But rest assured, we would never recommend something we don’t really love.

Special thanks to our friends at Thuma for sending us these bedroom upgrades <3