home tour: master bathroom by Brooke Haney

The Haney HQ was built just shy of 100 years ago. Last year, a realtor/contractor husband and wife duo took the house down to the studs before I found it on Redfin and we swooped it up before anyone else in Nashville stood a chance. 

It's like they browsed my Pinterest boards when picking the cool hues and bright whites, which made my job of outfitting the house easy.

Like most of the American female population, I'm a sucker for a quality bathroom. Why? It's our quiet space.

From October-May of this past year we had a house guest who was not only transitioning to life in Nashville, but also making a serious career change. Read as: not running around sans pants in your own house. The bathroom became the only place I could truly get away and shut the door. 

Just me, a detox bubble bath, a Spotify playlist and a dog snuggled up in a pile of dirty clothes. The dream, am i right?

I've been meaning to write the duo who flipped this house a thank you note. I'm serious. A vintage, understated chandelier? Marble countertops? Slate floors? 

Look at that Rita Ortloff print, y'all. One of my very favorite humans has the original, and someday I'll have my own. That's a promise.

Let's agree to skip the business part of the room. I mean, it's just a toilet. In a tiny room. With a door. Cool? 

That's the end of the road for this room, folks. Just a too-clean bathroom we happened to put claim as our own. 

before thirty by Brooke Haney

With consistent travel for work or to visit friends/family the times in between feel more like catching up than intentional living. A really solid friend said recently, "if you can't take care of yourself how can you take care of anyone else?" Mic drop. You're right. I can't. 

I looked at my list titled Before Thirty, because if we're being honest we're getting close to the fourth quarter. Slow down, 2016!

before thirty: take a floral design class

My favorite flower shop in East Nashville hosts occasional workshops and I was lucky to grab a seat! Eight humans standing around the table learning how to make a grid with tape, arrange flowers with a focal point and imagine a life where your job is to arrange flowers and make someone's day brighter. 

In a world of technology, it was so nice to do something with my hands. To make something from nothing and know it could be a catalyst for making someone's day.

What about you? 

What can you do for yourself to make the world stop spinning for just a bit? Wake up a bit earlier for quiet time? Take a walk on your lunch hour instead of eating at your desk? Drive home sans radio to get lost in your thoughts? 

123 S 11TH ST., NASHVILLE, TN 37206

t h i r t y by Brooke Haney

One of the very best humans on this earth turned thirty. So we found all the pink and all the gold in all of Nashville and threw her a surprise party. And by we I mean Kristin rocked those drinks, Nicole whipped up the food like a boss and Kirby made sure the jams were on lock. 

Courtney -

Here's to thirty more years. More dance parties. More costumes. And more of life with you! You made moving - again - a breeze and I'm so glad we're conquering our second city together.



photography // Sarah Nichole Photography
cake // Nashville Sweets
photo backdrop // Etsy



home tour: living and dining rooms by Brooke Haney

Let's be clear about one very important fact: things do not a home make.

Great. Glad we got that out of the way. 

With that, I enjoy making a house feel like a home by finding the perfect piece of materialism for just the right place. I've forever been fascinated with how your space can be an extension of who you are as a human. 

I'm not about to spit some tough copy about how I survived the great depression and now I stockpile canned goods; however, I would be remiss if I didn't share that I grew up in a 1,000 square foot home with two lovely parents and two siblings averaging 9 years my junior. 

So, people. Meet the Haney HQ.  

farm house table: national rustic | chairs: southeastern salvage 

farm house table: national rustic | chairs: southeastern salvage 

Sharing a home with another human is weird. Whether a roommate or a spouse, throwing two personalities together and hoping it meshes is a pretty weird concept. 

For this house, though, we were starting from scratch, really. We sold nearly everything in our Austin home before moving to Nashville so we were able to say goodbye to the red couch (whoo!) and the perfect dining room table (sigh). 

I started with safe concepts: the color blue, concerts, books. 

lamp: target | turquoise cabinet: see joss & main. | art: world market

lamp: target | turquoise cabinet: see joss & main. | art: world market

It were up to me this house would scream Pendleton, so I sought navajo patterns and western accents to bring a tick of Oklahoma to Tennessee. When you mix the new with the old then add in a bit of thrift shop / TJMaxx / Joss & Main, something magical happens. And that something magical is a place that screams, "yes. we live here. perfect."

There's something about claiming a pair carved wood rhino bookends as your own and knowing they're perfect for your home. One day, when you're dusting around them you'll remember thrifting east Nashville with your aunts and long for them to come visit - soon. Soon so they can dust all the thrift store finds because why is there so much dust?

Really, though, why is there so much dust? 

junior year: nashville by Brooke Haney

Going away to college is an extreme moment in most people’s lives where they leave home for the first time. For me, I went twenty miles north and settled in for five of the best years of my life. Whether I knew it or not, I had the home field advantage.

One night my junior year a guy who should not have been walking home from The Strip (you know, the place where Garth first made his mark in Stillwater, Okla.) strongly believed our house on S. Duncan was the house where he needed to settle in for the night. One too many crown slushies, I assumed. As I listened to his attempts at a b&e, I told some southwestern Oklahoma boy I needed to get off the phone because oh-my-gosh-someone-is-trying-to-kill-me. So, like any normal 20 year old girl would, I called my dad who drove 20 miles to sleep on my couch.

That, folks, is a home field advantage.

Since leaving the best state since 1907, I’ve likened my adventures to college. Freshman year (buffering in Charlotte) I was homesick, didn’t like my classes and spent way too much time doing things that didn’t matter. Sophomore year (thriving in Austin) I fell into the groove, found my rhythm, but was still very much an underclassman. Junior year (Hello, Nashville) I’m feeling like me again: confident, spending more time at the rec center, and living in a legit house on S. Duncan.

My safety net - in a lot of ways - was ripped out from under me when I moved to Charlotte. I couldn’t drive home to Perkins when I needed a minute, I couldn’t drive my car into the shop when it was making a noise and I couldn’t pick up someone in my tribe for a run to TJMaxx and Ted's Café Escondido when I just needed a person to listen.

But, just like in my junior year I’ve started to believe myself when I tell myself it’s going to be okay.


This week I watched the sunset from the steps of the Capitol.

For a second, I imagined I was sitting atop the rocky hill on the back 40 overlooking my childhood home. As I removed my earbuds and allowed myself to listen to the white noise of the city, I acknowledged Nashville is a great city. It’s overflowing with creative, passionate citizens. And, it’s okay that it’s not home.