Hilliary Bianca Salamanca

It started as an interview series, with me sitting on my actual stoop having conversations with founders, innovators, and interesting people doing interesting things. From there it grew into my real love: hosting events and bringing people together. The idea is to gather friends who hopefully make new friends, and show how sustainability can fit into everyday life. That might be a dinner party with vintage pieces and locally sourced food, a book swap, or an herb-themed potluck. It’s grown into a wonderful community that I’m so grateful for.

Since we’re regularly hosting, our furniture needs to be versatile. We’re constantly moving pieces around to fit the type of gathering we’re creating. But every piece in our home also holds a story. It’s part of a layered history as we build this house together. If you ask me about something in our home, be prepared to hear a five-minute story about how it was my grandparents’, how I found it at Brimfield, how I upholstered it myself, or how my Hetta coffee table was made from the off-cuts of other pieces. That provenance is what makes a home feel like a home.

I start with the foundation: good linens. I have a few I keep in rotation, white linen embroidered tablecloths that I layer, one that was my grandmother’s, some stripes that function as a neutral, and recently some dyed naturally by a friend. Then the necessities: plates, silverware, glasses. I have a collection of tabletop pieces I pull from, some special items that were my grandparents’, collected vintage treasures, and for the Hetta dinner, plates I’d recently sourced in Provence. I’ve been collecting vintage silver for years, so all of my tables have at least some silver throughout. Then I layer on something unexpected or whimsical. I want each table to feel special to the group I’m gathering. And I love taper candles. I even add them to produce sometimes, like the rhubarb candle I made for the Hetta dinner.

Since we’re regularly hosting, our furniture needs to be versatile. We’re constantly moving pieces around to fit the type of gathering we’re creating. But every piece in our home also holds a story. It’s part of a layered history as we build this house together. If you ask me about something in our home, be prepared to hear a five-minute story about how it was my grandparents’, how I found it at Brimfield, how I upholstered it myself, or how my Hetta coffee table was made from the off-cuts of other pieces. That provenance is what makes a home feel like a home.