Where to begin the story of these stories? Where does any story really begin? The teller decides.
Let’s start this one in Hawaii, where a couple of Kansas girls drift slowly across the blue waters of a spice heiress’s mountainside pool. These two have been friends for years. One of them is on her honeymoon.
Yep, that’s us. Freelance writer Amy Kerr on the left, and blanket badass Karrie Dean on the right. And you read correctly, Karrie joined my new husband Brandon and me on our honeymoon.
About that. So, after a week on Kauai, Brandon and I were preparing to hop to the Big Island for a stay at the Onion House, a quirky-ass home built with McCormick spice family money back in the 1960s. Besides a private pool, the property has three bedrooms split between two buildings. The more we discussed how much joy that space could bring someone, the more it bothered us not to share.
“We should invite Karrie.”
I glanced at Brandon to see if he was joking. Nope.
Now, we consider Karrie our mutual best friend, the only person who knows us both well enough to call either one of us on our crap. She’s not on my side. Not on his side. She’s on OUR side. She wants to see us do great together. Do you and your honey have one of these people? Highly recommended.
The math was all there. She’d had annoying surgery right before our wedding. Saying goodbye to summer and hello to another long, cold Midwestern winter had her a little blue. And the ocean is her soul place.
I call her. Karrie squeals like a middle-schooler. Or at least the cool Karrie version of squealing.
We tell her we aren’t bored or lonely, and we aren’t inviting anyone else if she says no.
Thirty-six hours later, she’s climbing into the back seat of our bright red rented convertible at the Kona airport.
Do you know who shows up for a week in Hawaii with 36 hours’ notice? A baller. Do you know who joins friends on their honeymoon and lets people talk if they want? Yes, still Karrie, a total baller.
The three of us drank Mai Tais. We photographed a few of Karrie’s throws in ridiculously pretty settings. We hiked up to waterfalls and down to a black sand beach. We talked about her favorite parts of our wedding. Stretched out in the back seat as we drove across the island from hot, to chilly, to hot again, Karrie wrapped herself in one of her throws when the fresh wind whipped her hair. The three of us did not do anything that would land us on a different kind of website, sorry to disappoint.
And now we return to the place we entered this story, where Karrie and I were floating without a care in that grandmother of all infinity pools.
Drinks in hand, sun on skin, we turned into philosophers. The earthy colors of a Happy Habitat blanket draped across a nearby lounge chair prompted the topic of hygge, the Danish feeling of wellness and contentment usually associated with crackling fires and thick socks.
We decided we were feeling Hawaiian hygge, and pondered the real meaning of that vibe as our hands trailed in the cool water.
Being creative self-employed chicks, we had an idea. Maybe you (yes, you) would enjoy hearing some of our stories and perspectives. We could create a salon for higher thought, wrapped in a blanket and topped with the occasional cocktail recipe.
Karrie is an incredible writer with a natural voice that I have a very hard time imitating. But as she put it when our idea started taking shape, “You’re the pro, dude.”
She had been considering ways to entice you to stop by more often. And I enjoy exploring new ways to be entice-y. As we climbed out of the pool to begin the arduous process of finding the evening’s Mai Tai supplier, we chatted excitedly about how much fun it would be to spark creative energy as a team.
So here we are! Ready to talk about life and how to live it with warmth, inside and out. This collection of thoughts will be inspired by friendship and design, and believing we can make the world a cozier place.
Let’s get ready to snuggle.
Amy and Karrie