Chapter Four: The Lifestyle Historian Series, Part I-Building a Life Around Story

Photo by Maegan Martin on Unsplash

For a long time, I tried to fit into boxes that were already built.

I was the marketing person. The event planner. The strategist. The writer. I was the one who could plan a conference for thousands of people, develop a campaign, write the copy, oversee the photos, and make sure the lights were on and the microphones worked.

On paper, it made sense. In practice, I felt divided. There was a life I personally dreamed about and a life I lived professionally, and they did not always speak to each other.

The personal life was full of books, travel, teacups, and suitcases. I have always been happiest when I am learning. Reading, writing, studying, exploring, and collecting experiences. There are very few places in the world I do not want to visit. I love the history of tea as much as I love drinking it. I find joy in researching how something is made, why a ritual exists, and what it has meant to people over time.

I have a healthy obsession with times past. With a way of living that feels more intentional than much of what we see now. I picture hats that match handbags, that match shoes, that are chosen on purpose. Valet stands in bedrooms. People who dress to go to the airport. Supper clubs where Friday and Sunday nights meant dancing. Pill boxes, compacts, vanities lined with glass perfume bottles. Tables set with care.

Then there are the dishes. My love for dishes, especially tea sets, might be borderline unreasonable. I will happily fuss over a table for hours. I believe in mints or chocolates on guest pillows. Carafes of fresh water on nightstands. Not for show, and not because I care about formality for its own sake, but because I believe that the details we tend to say something about how we value people.

Years ago, I wrote a small blog called “Everyday Details Matter.” The heart of that work still lives in me. It is the belief that we should not hide our favorite things away for two holidays a year. Beauty is not meant to stay behind cabinet doors. It deserves a place in daily life.

That blog was a hint at what would come later, but at the time I did not have language for any of this. I only knew that I loved learning about history through objects and that I felt most like myself when I was reading about how people really lived.

My original plan was to be a journalist. I loved the research and I loved the writing. That was my major in college until repeated trips to Latin America shifted my perspective. Those experiences changed how I saw the world and how I understood culture. I changed my major to history, focusing on Third World Non Western Studies.

Even then, what captured my attention most was not only the treaties, laws, or political movements, but the everyday artifacts. Shoes, canes, clothing, toiletries, vehicles. The things people touched. The things they carried. The ordinary details that revealed how they moved through their days. I remember thinking what an incredible way to learn about history. Through the details, not only the headlines.

Life, as it often does, took a different turn. I accepted a marketing job “just for a year or two.” That year or two became twenty two.

I worked in branding, sales, social media, strategy, advertising, broadcast, digital, and public relations. I planned more than twelve hundred events. I led teams. I traveled. I brainstormed and executed and delivered. It was good work. I learned a great deal and I am grateful for it.

Yet even in seasons of success, there was a knowing that I had not yet aligned my work with my deepest passions. I wanted more education, more travel, more time in archives and antique shops. I wanted to understand how objects carried memory. I wanted to help people see that history lives in the things we touch.

In 2022, I accepted a role at a small PR firm. It was life changing, and I will always be thankful for the experiences and relationships that came from that chapter. At the same time, something else was brewing.

Driving back from the northeast with my husband one day, after years of saying “What am I doing? What am I going to do?” everything finally began to connect. We talked for hours in the car about my love of antiques, travel, nostalgia, tea, entertaining, and vintage fashion. Somewhere along that highway, The Lifestyle Historian was born.

At first, it was a passion project on Instagram. I had a full workload. My daughters were growing. Life was full, and I was often running in circles. The Lifestyle Historian became a small reprieve, a place where I could research and share stories about objects and traditions that were not often explored. I was content with that for a while. I had big dreams, but they remained in the background.

In 2024, our family walked through a very difficult season. I realized that if I wanted to be truly present, I needed to be in control of my schedule. My constant fear of missing out had worn me down. I was getting older. It became clear that this was a now or never moment. I could keep postponing the life I wanted, or I could step toward it.

So I jumped.

Leaving a traditional career path after more than two decades was terrifying. It was also necessary. I knew I wanted to help people. I knew I wanted to create. I knew I wanted agency over my work. What I did not yet know was exactly how to describe what I was building.

I found myself back at the beginning, asking familiar questions. What am I? How will people see me? What do I do with twenty five years of professional experience in marketing and twenty five years of studying and loving history, design, antiques, and culture.

When I told people I was both a marketing and branding expert and a historian, I often saw confusion. It did not fit into a familiar category. I was advised to choose. Pick one or the other. Stay in your lane.

But none of that felt honest. The truth was that I am both. I am all of those things and more. So instead of squeezing myself into an existing box, I built a new one.

The Lifestyle Historian is that new box.

It is the place where my training as a historian meets my experience as a strategist and storyteller. It is where my love of education, travel, tea, antiquing, and entertaining come together with a deep respect for craftsmanship and culture. It is a lens on the world that insists that details matter, that objects carry meaning, and that beauty and hospitality are not frivolous. They are ways of honoring human dignity.

In a culture that often celebrates the quickest route, the lowest effort, and the most casual approach, I believe something different. I believe there is value in taking pride in your appearance without arrogance. In serving others well. In appreciating the skill that goes into the things we use every day. In learning about other cultures. In recognizing how big the world is and how connected we truly are.

For me, all of that begins with history. Where have we been. Where are we now. Where might we be going.

The Lifestyle Historian exists because I want to bring that perspective into the center of how we live, shop, design, travel, host, and tell stories. It is not only a personal project. It is a practice. I work with brands that care about heritage and want to communicate their story with depth. I help them connect the objects they create to the larger narratives those objects belong to. I write about the histories that shape our daily lives. I look for the threads that tie past and present together.

This essay is the beginning of a small series about why The Lifestyle Historian exists and what it is becoming. In the next pieces, I will share more about my approach to objects, to travel, to tea, to entertaining, and to the everyday details that make a life feel meaningful. I also cannot wait to explore nostalgia with you and how it influences design, art, architecture, and more.

If you are someone who believes that details matter, who feels a pull toward other eras, who cares about both beauty and integrity, you may have found a familiar place here.

I am grateful you are reading this. Thank you for being here at the beginning of whatever comes next.

Until then, remain ever curious,
The Lifestyle Historian