Early access: how I choose what makes it into the shop

This one's up here first for the club before it goes public on YouTube tomorrow.This week's question came from my best mate, a fellow Kiwi over from London, over coffee after a run: how do I actually do what I do? If you're short on time, you can stop here, because the honest answer is I don't totally know. Bit of a letdown, I know. So instead I'll walk you through the theory of why I think I know what I'm doing, and then take you on a tour of the workshop and shop.Some background first. I've got a degree in graphic design, went into publishing and everything in between, rose up to creative director, and started my own creative agency about 15 years ago. I've ended up with a brain that's analytical and strategic, but also very creative and very practical. No idea what that means, but it's what I've got, so I use it. Add to that hours and hours of watching Drew Pritchard on Salvage Hunters. He's brilliant, and I hope one day to be 20% as gifted. And it's a bit like the gym: the more you do this job, the more luck you create.The other big part is having a style that suits you, because then it'll suit other people too. Drew does weird and wonderful with an extraordinary depth of knowledge. I don't. My style is practical, because that's my character. I love timber, but antiques don't really do it for me. I'm into roughly the last 80 to 100 years.Take the 1960s mid-century 10-seater table I finished today. Clean, sharp, a really simple restoration. Would I have it in my house? No, I'd rather a big oak table. But I can appreciate it for what it is, and I'm starting to explore mid-century a bit more because there's demand and I'm finding pieces I genuinely like.That part matters. It's really hard to get excited about something I don't like, and if I'm selling something I don't like, it's just about the money. Money's useful, but what I love is when people come in and get excited about the piece. Not me, the piece. So my job is to curate a range that you, and hopefully many more people, will get excited about.A good example: this month I'm working with Hospice on an October campaign to get people restoring and saving pieces, and there's a lovely little piece I'm doing up for it. Video coming probably next week. It's a good piece, it's a restoration, it's for a good cause, and it's teaching. Tick, tick, tick, tick. Happy days.The tour Two little tables from a nest whose centre table is long gone. They'll become plant stands. I love turning discarded pieces into something else. A wrecked unit I bought for its handles. It's full of borer down the back and not worth saving, but there's loads of oak and rimu in it, so it'll become little bookcases or something bonkers. I'll make it up as I go. A piano stool with horrible fabric but solid oak underneath. A new oak top will make it a beautiful all-oak stool for anywhere in the home. A chair bought purely for its frame. I'm not good at upholstery, but I'm giving this one a go. A gifted piece I'm honestly not enjoying. Not my style, but I like the challenge of the build and the idea that it won't just sit in a garage. It'll be lovely when it's done. I'm just not excited about it, and I'd rather be honest. A big solid oak library display case, one of my favourite pieces ever. Heavy as hell, sold the same day. If I had the right house I'd have kept it. A custom heart rimu bookshelf. Chunky, solid, right proportions. Practical, but with the edge of being a one-off. Seating, which is always tricky because of stains: a funky hero chair with a bit of wear, one I bought just for the fabric (mental, maybe, but fun), and a mid-century piece with a gorgeous shape that tells a story. Mirrors, which are hard to find good. None will sell for months, then they all go in one day, so I look for interesting shapes and sizes. One's framed in kauri. Tiger oak drawers in mint condition, plus an oak drop-leaf table I just fell in love with. Small grab-and-go pieces, because plenty of people live in apartments, not big houses. And upcycles, like sliding doors from a retro house that now have brass hinges and work as room dividers. A Victorian desk. No one needs one, but it's a full-size student desk, not a kids' one, so it's a beautiful work-from-home piece with room for a laptop, a maker's mark and the original metalwork. I'm in love with it. A set of Art Deco chairs in that cool green. You never find a set, let alone in this shape. To me, that's pure beauty. Every piece has to earn its placeThere's no rocket science in how I choose. But every piece has to work hard to be in the workshop, the shop or on the website. I don't like pieces being here for the sake of it. Sometimes I'll go days without finding anything good, and I'm okay with that, because it means I'm being selective. With the following growing as fast as it is, that discipline matters more than ever.What this means for your homePriority number one is buying something you like. People tell me, "It doesn't quite go with anything else, but I like it." I don't care. There are no rules. If you like it, buy it and put it next to something else you like. If someone else doesn't get it, who cares?Where you can, make it functional. If you're investing in a nice piece, use it, because that's how you enjoy it. And if it gives you a bit of a wow, like that Victorian desk does for me, even better.Prioritise what you like, find a process that works for you, and make your own rules. That's where the fun is.Any questions or curiosities, send them through the request-a-topic form on the feed. See you next time.

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