To more joy, more laughter, and always finding our way back to the places that made us who we are.

As if every week I’m supposed to move mountains. Build off the last. Keep up the momentum so that, if someone were to ask, “What’s new?” I could proudly say, So much! I’m launching this soon, things are amazing!

At times, whether in the past or in quiet conversations I have with myself, I can now recognize that I’ve cared more about proving my ability than being present and actually enjoying the moment.

This realization hit me mid-conversation with my career coach (and dear friend and mentor) Rozy.

I was rambling about my “lack of major progress” on the store when she stopped me: “Why do you feel like you have to launch this so quickly?” she asked. “What’s the pace about?”

I hadn’t really thought about why I feel pressure to move fast. But as we talked, I realized: for me, time itself has become a pressure point.

How quickly can I do it all? What does that say about me?

And underneath that question was another I didn’t want to admit: Who am I doing this for?

Because if I’m being honest, the need for speed wasn’t coming from within. It was about external validation, the appearance of progress and success, the desire to impress others.

The truth is, I’ve actually been enjoying this slower chapter.

I’m working with a handful of clients on terms that allow me to balance my new life. I have space to move through my days the way I want: to work out when it feels right, spend time with Sunny, see friends & family, rest, and enjoy the moments of down time.

And yet, in the middle of all that contentment, my mind still starts spinning: Why am I not using this extra time to get ahead? Shouldn’t I be capitalizing on the moment?

These thoughts got me thinking about our perception of time and how we often treat it as the enemy instead of a tool.

So let’s talk about time.
Why are we in such a rush?
In life, in business, in everything?

We see it every day in the world of the brand (aka Instagram). New ones popping up left and right, trying to catch a cultural moment, to be the next thing. But are they successful because they launched at the “right” time, or because of who’s behind them? Does anyone still believe the product itself has to be good to matter?

In my session this week, I was reminded of what I know to be true.
If I had all the time and money in the world—if I had every ounce of support I needed to launch my business tomorrow—would I?

My honest answer is no.

Why? Because I’m simply not in a rush. I’m learning that quickness and speed no longer feel like markers of success for me. (Reminding myself of this, to be clear, is a work in progress.)

Speed can often be rooted in insecurity—in the fear that if we don’t act fast enough, our time will pass. That someone newer, louder, or more relevant will take our place.

But when you’re working in integrity, your ideas are yours. The timing is yours. There’s no right or wrong, only alignment or misalignment.

And when you are living in alignment and being mindful of your decision making, you learn that time is on our side. Despite my fears, the right timing continues to present itself to me, and I am trusting the process.

I know, deep down, that Hausberg’s is part of my destiny. It’s always been there, waiting for me.

And maybe that’s why I don’t want to rush it. I have a confidence knowing that it will always be there. It won’t just escape my grasp if it launches in 6 months or 2 years, or longer.

And when it does launch, I don’t want the buzz to be, Wow, Danielle built this so fast. How impressive!

The warmth of the space. The way it lives within its community. The joy of gifting something meaningful from my shop. The little moments that feel big. This is the buzz I dream for.

I know a lot of us are exhausted by hustle culture.

How refreshing would it be to hear about a founder who gave themselves space (and time) in the early stages to think, to breathe, to incubate, instead of glorifying the grind?

Someone who didn’t measure success by sleepless nights or “blood, sweat, and tears,” but by the peace they protected.

A founder who isn’t inspiring because of their wardrobe or their Architectural Digest spread, but because the way they built their business afforded them mental comfort, not just physical comfort.

This is the lens that I am allowing myself to build within, and I trust that it all will work itself out.

While it’s been really fun to dive into the beginnings of my lighting collection, I’ve also been pulled in multiple directions. As I share this journey of what will inevitably become building a brand, I want to be transparent that it comes with plenty of challenges.

So far the challenges are less about the actual work and more about letting go of a lot of my old habits. Habits that once served me, helped me find success, but in this new chapter are actually causing more stress than peace. Things like creating rigid structure, following rules, and sticking to strict schedules in the name of productivity.

Now, my daily practice is to un-grip from those thoughts that used to define me as an entrepreneur or employee, and instead explore a new path forward. As I’ve taken on more consulting opportunities with brands and design firms, I am naturally pulled to lean back into structure. But each day I remind myself: that isn’t the only way to succeed. The old way isn’t the only way.

And then of course, life has its own reminders. Getting hit with Covid (all three of us — me, Josh, and Sunny) was one of them. Nothing like suddenly being home alone with a sick baby for a week to reset your sense of control.

Motherhood teaches me that daily. It’s day to day, week to week. What I think the plan is when I go to bed changes the moment I get Sunny from her crib the next morning. And that’s okay — that’s the beauty of this life. I’m grateful to her for being my teacher— my daily reminder that I’m not in control, and actually never was.

Collection Ideation & My Design Process

For those of you who aren’t reading for my life lesson reflections (which is totally fine, suit yourself), this newsletter is also about the beginnings of the Hausberg’s lighting collection. I thought it would be fun to share more about my process and how I go about ideating a collection or product.

Step 1: Image Gathering

I’ve been using Pinterest for this (though in the past, I’ve also used shared albums). I pull images of anything that catches my eye. I look back at Instagram photos I’ve saved, dig through old photos from flea markets or sourcing for past projects in LA, and browse some of my favorite vintage vendors—on 1stDibs, Incollect, international vendors, and auction houses. Truly anything that sparks inspiration.

That inspiration can take many forms: how a brand builds a collection around a single shape, a material pairing, or simply an object with a unique silhouette. For this collection, I started pulling images many months ago, long before this project became anything tangible. I think it came together faster because I wasn’t forcing a deadline. Proof that the lack of structure can actually lead to better creative flow.

Step 2: Editing & Creating the Vision

Once I connected with the lighting manufacturer, I went back to the Pinterest board, added more, and then started editing.

I knew I wanted to collaborate with a lighting designer. I’m not specifically trained in furniture or lighting design—and that’s okay!! My strength is in curating, concepting, identifying key details, and then working with a specialist to pull those details together. Working with another designer allowed me to step into the role of editor— refining, tweaking, to shape the vision.

So, I narrowed down the inspiration boards into smaller, more specific concepts. Then we hopped on a call to dive in deeper so that I could explain more about the selected images. I shared what I was gravitating towards and why, specific forms and shapes I loved, and materials I thought could be interesting to play with.

Step 3: Design Time

After reviewing the key reference images that serve to define the overall aesthetic and direction to take, we combined those images into fuller concepts and filled in the gaps with new references and additional design details. This stage is a very iterative and playful process. We did it by playing around with forms; say for a table lamp - combining one shade style with multiple bases styles and vise versa . Early on, there were many options, since both shape and materiality were still open. Narrowing those options down was tough, but after coming across a certain image right after our first decision review, the shade style and material that I loved revealed itself and became an obvious, yes. This then guided the rest of the collection.

After that, it became easier to determine what the right base would be, and the concepts behind the other fixture styles we would produce.

After another design session with the refined imagery, our concept was clear. The collection came together quickly and very naturally. I have a good grasp on what’s out there, and more importantly, on what I personally gravitate toward after ten years of sourcing for projects.

so…what happens next?

The next step is figuring out the price point while simultaneously developing the prototypes.

Now that we have an idea of materials, pricing it out is more tangible. My hope is that while the fixtures will always be an investment, they’ll be approachable enough for most people to bring into their homes. That’s really my goal.

I also need to finalize sizing to begin prototyping. My plan is to prototype in a few different sizes per fixture to see the comparisons in person. I may also prototype the lamp base in a couple different materials to see what looks the best and then compare price points accordingly. This all feels more intuitive than evaluating scale & material through a 2D drawing. I want to understand the pieces in 3D, in real space, versus spending time editing a drawing, only to edit it again once we see the prototypes.

As this process takes shape, I’ll keep you along for the journey. Hopefully a lot more to share soon!

I’ve spent a lot of time imagining what this season would feel like. How I’d structure my days, manage my time, and stay productive. But what I’m learning is that every day is different. Every conversation—whether it’s reconnecting with someone or something totally new—is shaping the path forward.

Right now, I’m leaning into the newness. Instead of clinging to structure (which is usually my default), I’m trying to stay open. Follow the energy, see what feels good, and let things unfold until the next clear idea presents itself.

I’m also realizing I don’t have to do as much to be productive. That’s been incredibly freeing.

The idea behind this Substack is to share what it really feels like to build something from scratch. So with that in mind, I figured I’d include some updates for this post.

Like I said, things feel pretty fluid right now. I’m not working off a formal business plan, but more of an intuitive one—doing what makes sense, when it makes sense. Same goes for these posts. There’s no fixed schedule or plan - I’ll share when I have something to say :)

So - here are a few updates:

1. My consulting business has officially begun and I’ve started working with a design firm here in LA :)
It’s been energizing to ease back into design after my leave, and to come at it with a fresh perspective. It’s also been a nice reminder that there are so many ways to approach the design world.

The core of what I’m doing is creative direction: ideating for new projects and asking questions like—what’s the concept behind this home? What references evoke the feeling we want? How can we take the client’s vision and push it one step further? And how can we push ourselves, as a design team, out of our own comfort zones too?

I’m working with the team to evolve their internal image library, rethink how they present ideas, and just bring a new perspective to the studio. It’s already been a lot of fun, and I think it’s going to be a really rewarding collaboration.

It’s also reminded me how much I love working with others—especially in the creative space. I love talking ideas through, hearing different perspectives. It’s a good reminder that even as I build my own thing, I can still bring in collaborators or consultants when I need a second set of eyes. That kind of creative back-and-forth doesn’t have to go away.

2. What will be the Hausberg's lighting collection is in the works!
As part of my entry back into work life, I’m finding myself making time for things that, in past roles, I didn’t always have the space for—like meeting with vendors in person. I definitely did this, but not as much as I would’ve liked to. Going in person is so valuable—not just for relationship building, but because it’s genuinely inspiring to see what people are capable of and all the things you can dream up together.

Last week, I visited a lighting vendor I’ve worked with many times over the years. The reason for the visit was pretty straightforward—I recently bought a couple vintage table lamps and needed to make custom shades for them (they’ll be for sale, btw!).

While I was there, I shared more about the store concept and what I’m hoping to build with the owner. We had a great conversation, and I left feeling inspired. Then a few days later, I got a call from him. He wants to help me produce something bigger than what I originally went there for… a full lighting collection.

This is something I’ve been quietly thinking about for Hausberg’s, but I hadn’t planned to jump into it just yet. With this offer, though, it suddenly feels very real—and exciting. So now I’m starting to gather inspiration and figure out what I actually want to create. I’ll definitely share more on that soon, but here’s a little peek at what’s catching my eye so far…

3. I’ve started collecting a vintage object inventory!
Over the past few months, I’ve been slowly gathering small vintage goods with the intention to resell them for the store. Some things I’ve found online—mostly on eBay or Etsy—and others have come from antique shops around LA or local flea markets.

I’ve been sitting on this little collection for a while because I haven’t quite figured out how I want to share it with the world. I could shoot everything and post it online… but part of me thinks an in-person shopping experience could be more interesting?

What do you all think? Is online the safer, easier place to start—or would you want to come to something in person? I’m really curious to hear thoughts.

I’ve included a few iPhone shots of what I’ve been unwrapping lately so you can get a peek at what’s starting to come together. Some vintage Lalique, Just Anderson, Majolica hanging plates, Imari, Art Nouveau vases, and vintage glassware in the mix..

4. I’m going to start sharing my vintage “saves”
Like I mentioned, a lot of the pieces I’ve been collecting have come from eBay. And honestly, I’ve bookmarked so much more than I’ve actually bought—either because the price doesn’t make sense for resale, or because I just can’t manage a huge inventory at this stage.

But I had the idea that it could be fun to share those saved items with you. I’ve been testing out “ShopMy,” which lets me link to vintage finds through affiliate links, and I think it could be a cool way to show you what’s caught my eye lately.

In future newsletters, I’ll start including more of these saved pieces—along with little notes on what I love, what I’m looking for, and why something stands out to me. And if anything speaks to you, you’ll be able to shop it directly, with a bit of my guidance along the way.

Anyways… that concludes the updates for now.. hope you all have a nice weekend, and I’ll be sharing more soon xx

Danielle

When I think about the world of Hausberg’s, it always comes back to the idea of the American home—layered, cozy, collected, lived-in, and loved. There’s usually something vintage or antique in the mix, whether it’s furniture, objects, artwork, or textiles—and nothing feels too precious.

Looking through these images, what stands out to me is that the most special spaces don’t feel overly designed. They’re not the result of mood boards or a series of saved Instagram posts. They come together over time—through travel, collecting, saying yes to something you love when you see it, and trusting the process.

(And honestly, as a designer, it’s hard to achieve this feeling for anyone other than yourself—unless your client has a lot of patience and trust.)

What stands out to you in these photos that makes them feel special?

When that kind of creative connection happens, I always walk out thinking: I want one of these of my own one day. No matter who I’m with—my mom, my husband, friends, coworkers—I’ve said it so many times: When I retire, I’ll open a little shop. But lately, maybe it’s becoming a mom, maybe it’s just getting older—I’ve realized that living with intention and chasing what lights you up doesn’t need to be a “someday” thing. Dreams don’t have to wait for retirement. They can happen now.

So, why a store?

For me, it’s simple: a shop has done its job if it makes you feel something. Not in a marketing sense—not to convince you to buy—but to invite you into a world you want to be part of. The best shops don’t push product. They awaken something in you. Maybe it’s the sudden urge to edit your wardrobe, restock your pantry, finally hang that art, or host a dinner party. Not because you should, but because being in that space made you want to carry some of its magic back home with you. To fill your own space with meaning, with beauty, with objects that make everyday life feel a little more considered.

When I started gathering thoughts for this post, I reflected back to the very first time I felt this way. It was in a tiny, family-run cheese shop in Darien, Connecticut. I was in middle school, visiting my aunt and uncle in New Canaan for Thanksgiving. One of our pre-dinner errands was to stop by this cheese shop to curate the appetizer spread. I didn’t even know stores like that existed. The smell hit me as soon as we walked in. The counters were full of cured meats, the staff was teaching us which cheeses paired best with crackers vs. bread, mustards vs. jam, cured meat vs. marinated veg. I was totally enamored.

As I’ve talked more openly about wanting to build this brand—and to create a retail experience—I’ve gotten my fair share of wide-eyed reactions. You want to open a shop? I get it. It’s bold and it’s risky. And yes, I would be lying if I said I wasn’t scared. But to me, the only way to really bring this world to life is to build it. To let people walk into it, touch it, smell it, feel it. A physical space is where the magic happens. I believe in online too, and Hausberg’s will likely begin that way out of practicality—but the dream is a brick-and-mortar. A store where the materials, the lighting, the scale, the details all hit you at once, and linger long after you leave.

In that spirit, I wanted to share a few of my favorite stores—places that have given me that jolt of inspiration, that sense of place. The ones that made me stop and say, this is what it can feel like.

Albrici – Florence

Albrici is a family-owned antique and vintage clothing store in Florence, and when I lived there almost 8 years ago, it became a kind of second home. It was just around the corner from my design school, and I found myself stopping in almost weekly. Every friend who came to visit got the full Albrici tour. The ceilings dripped with Murano chandeliers, vintage handbags—designer and otherwise—filled the hutches, and the walls were lined with dreamy dresses, coats, and shoes. The architecture, the lighting, the atmosphere—it all made you feel like you’d stepped into a more glamorous, whimsical, and deeply Florentine version of life.

William Laman – Montecito

William Laman is a Montecito staple—one of those quietly iconic shops that’s just always been there, grounding the town with its presence. It’s classic California: refined and unfussy, filled with paired-back antiques and never overstuffed. Everything feels intentional—warm, restrained, and quietly elegant. Every time I walk in, I think, I want my home to feel like this. And that’s exactly the energy I hope people feel when they walk into Hausberg’s.

Lief – Los Angeles

Lief is one of my favorite furniture stores in LA. The mix of vintage furniture, lighting, antiques, and collected objects is just right. Each piece stands on its own, but together the space feels cohesive, thoughtful, and elevated—without trying too hard. It’s also just a happy store. In a city full of new furniture galleries, Lief has a warmth that, as a designer, I really appreciate.

Pharmacy – Florence

I wish I remembered the name (though I could probably walk you there!), but this pharmacy is etched into my memory. If you’ve ever been in a classic Italian pharmacy, you know what I mean. The branding, the packaging, the old cabinetry—it’s where luxury and tradition meet. You buy a bar of soap, and it feels like an heirloom.

Happy Isles – Los Angeles

When I got engaged in 2020, my first stop was Happy Isles and I’ve been back plenty of times since. It’s like a vintage gown jewelry box—retro, playful, full of color, whimsy, and little surprises. I loved working with Lily, the owner—she’s built something that feels personal, thoughtful, and memorable—not just transactional.

Would love to know what stores give you that feeling. Leave a comment—I always want to add to the list!

I’m Danielle Hausberg — new mom to a nearly 5-month-old baby girl named Sunny, wife to my husband Josh, daughter, sister, friend, and a lover of all things home. I was born and raised in Los Angeles and now live in Venice with my little family.

This summer marks ten years in the interior design world — a full decade, which feels both impossibly fast and somehow a very long time. I started with my own design business and most recently served as the Creative Director at Jake Arnold. Both chapters shaped me deeply and helped clarify the path I want to carve out next.

My love of design goes way back. My grandma was an antique collector — not professionally, but she absolutely could’ve had her own shop. When she came to visit us from Montreal, she’d bring entire suitcases filled with antiques to pass down to my mom, my sister, and me. I remember sitting around the table as she unwrapped each treasure — plates, glassware, silverware — all carefully bundled in bubble wrap and packing paper. (I later used those same techniques years later when I shipped my own budding glassware collection from Florence — on more than one occasion.)

I always laugh that while some of my friends got extravagant gifts for their 16th birthdays from their grandparents, I was gifted a block of silver from mine. Who knew how much a paperweight could shape a person!

The thrill of the hunt — that love of flea marketing and bargain hunting — was passed from my grandma to my mom, and then to me. My mom took me to my first flea market, and once I was old enough, I started going with friends nearly every Sunday. (This past Sunday I took Sunny to her first flea and it was beyond special for me.) Vintage shopping, whether for clothes, jewelry, or home goods, has always been my first choice. In high school, every Friday after school we’d go to Wasteland in Santa Monica; I had $20 to spend and always found something that everyone ended up borrowing.

What drew me to vintage then — and still does now — is the uniqueness. I’ve never felt inspired walking into a store and seeing multiples of the same item. Where’s the fun in that? For me, shopping is about the hunt. I want to search, dig, and find something with a story. I also love chatting with the dealers and learning about each piece, where it came from, its provenance, and how they got started in the business themselves.

I collect because it reminds me of the homes I grew up in — and because I crave that feeling of nostalgia. I believe the “things” we surround ourselves with hold memories, and those memories create a feeling that only comes from making your space feel uniquely yours. There isn’t a single piece in my home that I don’t remember buying — where I got it, who I was with, what year it was. To me, that kind of meaning is what makes a house feel like a home.

That passion for collecting — for curating — is what I want to lead with as I enter this new chapter.

When I first started in design, working with clients on their homes was my first step in the industry. I had interned for a designer one summer, and soon after, people started asking me to help with their own spaces. It all unfolded naturally, and I was excited to follow where it led.

Overtime I started to reflect and realize what parts of the work actually energized me the most. In my most recent role I wore multiple hats; sourcing, creative direction, dreaming up brand collaborations, and developing products. This side of business is what really clicked for me.

I felt most lit up when I was curating — building a visual world, telling a story through objects and materials. That’s where I feel most at home.

So… how did I end up here on Substack?

There’s a lot of dot-connecting that I’m sure will unfold naturally over time, so I won’t walk through the full timeline now. But 2025 is shaping up to be a year of expansion. In January, Josh made a big shift into real estate as an agent. Our daughter Sunny was born in February. And this past May, I finally decided to listen to a voice I’d been hearing for a while — to build something of my own, a second time around.

So, I’m starting a store. A home brand. It will be called Hausberg’s.

My Substack will follow the journey of building Hausberg’s — from the inspirations to the stories behind the pieces, from what’s coming to what I’m dreaming up — and whatever else I feel like sharing along the way.

Welcome to my home — to my world.

I’m really glad you’re here.

Xx Danielle