Why the little things we keep feel the most like home

Exploring the 'endowment effect' and how it influences our spaces; '70s ceramic salt shakers; and a beaded swan clutch that looks like art.

I used to think it was big things that made a house (apartment, etc.) feel like home. A well-designed room or a completely finished space. Even a large piece of furniture. I was always itching to finish one project and get into the next. I wanted a finished product. Once I had that sofa I’d been lusting after, my place would feel complete.

But now? I’ve learned better.

The things that make me love my home the most are small. Quiet. Easy to miss if you’re not looking for them.

The weight of the hand-carved pepper mill my parents gifted to my husband a decade ago on Christmas that we still proudly display in our kitchen today.

Maybe for you it’s a bathroom hook that’s shaped like a little piece of art. Or the soft, faded corner of a quilt that’s been washed a hundred times but is too sentimental to give away.

These are the things that stop me. That make me pause for just a second and think, yes—this feels good.

There’s a kind of intimacy in small design details. You notice them up close, through use, through touch. They’re not showy. They don’t scream. But they matter.

And, you know, there’s science to back that up.

Our belongings aren’t just things—we use them to express who we are. The British Psychological Society suggests that our possessions reflect our identity, our status and our connection to place. (BPS)

Pinterest find of a lovely 70s-built home that gives off a lived-in warmth

We are our things, they shape who we are.

There’s even a name for why we become so attached to the smallest objects: the endowment effect. Have you heard this term before? Truthfully, it’s new to me. I came upon it while researching this story and went down a rabbit hole.

The endowment effect is a psychological bias where we assign more value to something simply because we own it. Even if it’s objectively ordinary. Even if it’s chipped or outdated or wildly impractical. The moment it becomes ours, it becomes special.

Dozens of little things dotted around my home come to mind. What about for you?

A view from my kitchen into my living room. Lots of little things that are important to me in this one image.

That vintage vase you found at a flea market? That beat-up side table you’ve moved through three apartments? They hold weight. They carry stories.

The endowment effect also explains why we treasure things others might overlook. A mug from your sister. A poster you bought on a whim while travelling. A tiny clay dish that sits on your windowsill, catching light and loose change, and, truthfully, a bit of dust, too.