I can tell you a story about every object in my kitchen.
Who made it, where it came from, what recipes it's used for; countless memories of meals shared with lovers or friends or myself. When I moved to Cornwall, I found myself entranced by the hands of makers – people whose lives were steeped in the pursuit of creation, tactility and stories. I am not a maker. Not of objects in any case – more of words and strategies and loosely formed recipes. If you cannot do, then why not help? So I carved out a career working with designers and makers – only slightly jealous that I couldn't produce the same storied textures – helping them bring their worlds to life.
The idea for Kettle was born from my work with Atelier100, a design programme co-funded by design giants IKEA and H&M, where it was literally my job to visit designers in their studios and find out more about their process and products. A mix of mentorship, community building, design strategy and retail, it was a marriage of all my favourite things. It helped me understand all the inner workings of design and manufacture, from materials costs and product margins to wholesaling and storytelling.
My obsession with both makers and now materials led me to this idea: a collaboration with good people who make beautiful objects, all set around my favourite room in the house: the kitchen. I wanted to instil the same level of respect and love I have for the everyday and unexpected objects I have in my kitchen. The wooden plates made on a lathe in one of my favourite parts of Cornwall, which have travelled with me to every country I've put roots down in. The supermarket-bought cast iron pot that played host to garden risottos in my little shed and saw me through some dark times. The indigo-dyed salad servers made from a maple wood dance floor in Newquay.
For Kettle’s first Edition, we collaborated with ceramicist and friend Alex Millar.
Alex’s handmade creations conjure up both the chaos and the calm inherent in the making and using of each object. In truth, Alex’s excitement about the project and intuitive process of designing, prototyping and making had me hooked from the start. If anyone could translate my harebrained ideas into something tangible and beautiful, it was her.
Over six months, we exchanged hundreds of messages, voice notes, images and transatlantic phone calls, about everything from glazes and handle designs to ratio problems and pricing.
I started this project because I knew I would never be talented enough to make something tangible but love working with those who are. Making is so magical to me, but it’s also so hard to get off the ground and I hope with Kettle, I can support people with a platform and what I can offer (good words and some brand strategy know-how).
