HHello! You arrived just in time—I knew you’d come back if you saw we were talking about Anthropologie again. You’re my kind of person. Anthropologie feels like a second home, a place to gather even if it’s only through photos in a blog post.
Every now and then we need to spend a little time in Anthropologie. It’s been far too long. Never mind the ferry, the drive through traffic, or the effort to get there—it’s worth it for our sanity. We need an Anthro day.
I was chatting with a friend about my love for the store, and she said she understands completely. When her husband offers to come along for the long drive, she quietly declines. I get it. Anthro isn’t a place to rush; you need time to linger. Husbands might be in too much of a hurry—off to the electronics store—while we savor every detail.
They might not want to linger over stacks of dishes or the hedgehog measuring cups—especially the hedgehog measuring cups.
I spent a good fifteen minutes marveling that they were hedgehogs with gold noses. It felt like a small, delightful discovery worth savoring.
I always get lost among the little trinkets and accessories—the hooks, the letters, the mugs. Like a kid in a candy shop, I pick things up and examine them. (Just kidding about the licking!) I touch everything. I can’t resist taking a hook off a pipe to inspect it, even if we have one at home. The ritual of picking it up and putting it back is part of the fun.
I stare at aprons. I linger over dishes and books. Which makes me happier—dishes or books? It varies. Round and round I go, discovering the next interesting detail.
And those bins! They feel like treasure chests, promising a small find if I peek inside.
Then I suddenly spot these books. My heart does a little flip.
STOP. Just stop with all the pretty things.
On my first pass I wasn’t sure about the bedding displays. On my second, that giant green glass lamp with a grain-sack shade caught my eye. On another bed I noticed a white pillow stitched with colorful flower petals. There’s always a fresh little discovery each time you walk around.
And then this happened. I saw a small fox perched across from the hardware bins. I shouldn’t have dashed over, but I did. I shouldn’t have picked him up, squished his fluffy bottom, or admired his herringbone suit—but I did. I learned my lesson at another store when I couldn’t leave a squishy owl behind.
You simply can’t walk away from a squishy fox or owl if your heart is involved.
Look at that face—could he be any cuter? I carried him around the store like a baby, patting his rump and stroking his head. Yes, I do things like that. He clearly loved me and I loved him back, but in the end I decided he’d be happiest living at Anthropologie. What could be better than living at Anthro? Nothing. So I left him there.
And look—now I can visit anytime, since he has his own little room.
I could happily live here too. Thank you, Anthropologie, for a day of lingering and little discoveries. It was wonderful.
Until we meet again, Anthro lovers…
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Out to See: Anthropologie