We opened Today, Tomorrow because we kept walking into rooms that asked nothing of us.
The catalog rooms. The blank rentals. The Pinterest-perfect homes that you could photograph but couldn't quite sit down in. They were fine. They were forgettable. They didn't have any weather.
A good object has weather. It's been somewhere.
A wood grain that someone else's hand wore smooth. A bowl from a kitchen that cooked for a family before yours. A chair built by someone who was paid to think about chairs. These pieces ask something of the room they're in, and of the person who lives there. They give something back too.
Today, Tomorrow is open Sundays in Chinatown, Honolulu. 9 to 2. It's small. We don't have everything. We have what we found this week, the things that felt like they wanted to live somewhere.
Come in slowly. Bring a coffee from down the block. Look at the chairs. Sit on the ones that look sturdy enough. Pick up a book. Read the first page.
If something here ends up in your home, what we love is not the moment you bought it. It's the hour after. The afternoon you sat in the chair you brought home, with the cup from the place down the block, and the room felt different. Not louder. Just yours.
That's what we mean by objects worth living with.
See you Sunday.