Hi from Marseille,
I started this year with so much energy and great intentions, ready to take on the world and accomplish my goals. But, like many of us, I was stopped in my tracks by the devastating news of the wildfires that tore through parts of Los Angeles. The horror of this tragedy has weighed heavily on me, leaving me feeling deeply down and helpless over the past two weeks. (And don’t get me started with Jan. 20th…)
For the first time since I moved away from New York, I found myself missing the US. It’s an unexpected kind of homesickness—one that stems from feeling far away from my US community, and also being unable to help. I’ve asked myself, "What could I have done if I were there?" Probably nothing, and yet, the distance made me feel even more useless.
This time of sadness has brought me back to thinking about my work and the values that anchor it. My brand, Behind the Hill, has always been about creating a sense of home—crafting thoughtful, intentional spaces through meaningful products. Personally, I’ve always been drawn to beautiful objects. I’m a collector of textiles, ceramic dishes and vintage plates, items that make a house feel alive and loved.
But as I’ve been reflecting over the past days, I’ve started to think deeply about the concept of home itself. What does it really mean? Is it the physical space we fill with the things we love, or is it something more intangible—the people, the memories, and the shared experiences? And what does it mean to own things, especially in a time when so many people are losing everything they have? Today, I went to a flea market in Marseille, and I didn’t buy anything…
Los Angeles has always felt close to me. Over the years, my work has connected me to so many clients and retailers there. Along with New York, it’s one of the cities where we’ve shipped the most and collaborated with some of the most creative people. Knowing that many of my readers and clients are based in California makes this loss feel even more personal.
To everyone in Los Angeles and beyond, I want to say this: I hope you are safe, and I am thinking of you. You have always welcomed my work into your homes, and for that, I am so grateful.
Over the past ten days, I’ve tried to find small ways to stay sane amidst the sadness. In trying to stay grounded, I leaned on small rituals that brought me comfort and joy, focusing on the beauty in the everyday. Here’s what helped me:
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Working with my hands: I’ve fixed an old wooden cabinet in the guest room—sanding it down, painting it with colored oil, and repairing the drawers. This was a first for me, and as I was at it, I even redid the shelves on the wall. Who knew I could channel my inner carpenter? I felt so proud afterward :)
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I’m very sensitive to smells, I’ve been using this roll-on perfume by Violette_fr for over a year, but in the past 10 days, it became my favorite companion. Its comforting scent feels like a big hug, and I love how subtle it is—just enough for me, my husband, and kids to enjoy. I’m obsessed, and if you want to try it, you can find it here. (I even wear it at night on my wrists)
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Listening to music from my travel playlist: Songs that evoke memories of past journeys always help lift my spirits.
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Walking, walking, walking: The cold but sunny weather in Marseille called me outside. I spent many hours walking by the sea and exploring the nearby National Park of Les Calanques. I am very lucky to live in such a special place between the hills and the sea.
As I reflect on all of this, my thoughts are with those who are struggling right now. What I miss most about the U.S. is the incredible sense of community, the way people come together in times of need. I hope that anyone going through hardship has a community to lean on, even if it’s just one person who cares.
And by the way: You can always reply to this newsletter whenever you want and reach out if you feel like it—whether to ask for specific travel tips or just to say hi. If you’re part of this newsletter, it’s because our paths crossed at some point, and for that, I am forever grateful.
With Love,
Maud