"Use the good silver" is fine. But this is better.

I'm a creature of habit. We all are, supposedly—"humans are creatures of habit" is just the sort of abstract, "make-sweeping-generalizations-about-humanity" kind of thing we all say at dinner parties when it's getting late and we've run out of things to say. But it's easy to forget exactly how much you're a creature of habit until you come home to an emergency notice posted to your door by the great city of Saint Louis, decreeing that emergency service has been undertaken on your block's water lines and, as such, your home will be without running water for the next six or nine or (unintelligible) hours.

My friends (hello, friends) will understand that this is especially terrible-slash-funny for two reasons: One, because earlier this summer my house received its own dire plumbing diagnosis that meant I was forbidden from showering in my own home for several weeks. And two, because I am someone who, on an almost cellular level, needs to be able to shower in order to feel sane.

It's not an obsessive cleanliness thing. ("By no means is it an obsessive cleanliness thing," I can hear my former houseguests saying.) It's a reset-my-brain thing. Blame it on astrology (Pisces), but water is the most reliable way I have found in my 34+ years of life to reset my mental state and wipe the slate clean. And I need to do that, say, twice a day if I'm going to retain any semblance of a normal productive life.

But the city has turned off my water for the next several hours.

So that's why I'm sitting on one of the overstuffed couches of Bluewood Brewing at 8:45 on a Monday night, writing to you about habits. (Side note: thank god for local businesses who let you grab a bite to eat and, hell, wash your hands, just before closing because your water is turned off and all the foodstuffs in your personal repertoire are pasta-based. Thank god for local businesses that are open on Monday nights. Please go spend your money at one of them this week, wherever you are, or else they aren't going to exist the next time we need them. )

Habits can be a prison (see above), but habits can also be a gift. It depends how you use them.

For instance: "use the good silver." It's a cliché for a reason—it has a clear image and a clear directive. But I don't totally love it—even as I'm guilty of repeating it and, on occasion, even resharing the perfectly tidy Didion interview quip above. Here's what I don't like about it: it has the cadence of a scold. It falls on my ears like, you're doing it wrong. And something that's about treating yourself, about living life to the fullest, shouldn't sound like that. It should sound liberating.

Here's what I like instead:

Spend money on the things you touch every day.

Yeah, it's less cute (and concise) than "use the good silver." But it's infinitely more attractive. Whereas "use the good silver" sounds like "you're doing it wrong," "spend money on the things you touch every day" doesn't require you to change your habits. Which, as we've already established, is hard to do. It only requires one thing of you: noticing.

(And, well, money. But that comes later.)

"Spend money on the things you touch every day" asks you to observe, with curiosity and without judgment, as your therapist might say, what your daily habits make you interact with. And then...upgrade them.

What's nice about this is that, by design, your days will become better because you've invested in little luxuries that befit the life you actually live—not the one that the aspirational version of you lives. And when you encounter them in the usual flow of things, your day will be a bit better. And, as another formidable American author said, how we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives.

So. To cut out the middleman: spend money on the things you touch every day and improve your life. Simple.

Here are some ideas from around my own (currently running-water-less) life to get you started.

1) UPSTATE Silk Tie Dye Pillowcases, from $78
Silk pillowcases are one of those items that seem impossibly high-maintenance and Eloise At The Plaza-coded until you actually buy them. Then they seem practical. Downright...essential. They're good for your hair. They're good for your skin. They look wonderful. But beware, because there is an incredible range of quality that can all be sold under the name "silk pillowcase", and it's often difficult to discern what you're getting until it arrives. But UPSTATE is a brand I will stand by until my dying day. (Or...dyeing day? This pun will make sense in a moment.) UPSTATE hand-dyes their absolutely luscious silk pillowcases in a variety of colorways that make them easy to fit into an existing decor scheme but also, delightfully, impossible to predict too precisely. I bought mine (in "midnight," if you must known) in the year of our lord two thousand and eighteen, to celebrate my impending move to Saint Louis. I have used them every night since, and they have held up beautifully. I wash them, inside out, in a net laundry bag, with The Laundress' Delicate Wash, which may sound fussy, but I challenge you to tell me something you have used every day for seven years that has held up quite as well. And I bet it isn't made of hand-dyed silk, either.

Not only is the quality exceptional, but the colors have such richness and character. These pillows are the sole inspiration for my bedroom's color scheme, which was just convenient when it came to designing a new space. But I also discover something new to love in their inky mystery every time I look at them. I know this is the sort of breathless copy that people associate with women's magazines in the 1990s, but 1) I mean every word of it and 2) fuck you if you're being dismissive of women's magazines in the 1990s. Women's magazines in the 1990s taught me everything I know.

2) BUSTER & PUNCH "Build Your Own" Switches & Dimmers, from $73
This is perhaps the Ur-example of what I'm talking about. The main hallway of my house has one bank of light switches with 4 different switches on it. (This is called "gang," for reasons I have not investigated, so it is a "4-gang" switch. Now you know.) I reach out and flip those switches first thing in the morning and last thing at night. That's...a lot of contact. So between that and the fact that 4 switches makes for a pretty significant chunk of real estate, I became obsessed a couple years back with upgrading the hardware. Specifically, via UK brand Buster & Punch. (This came to fruition via my brother, whose holiday gifting expertise has now been mentioned at least twice in these missives, and who is probably the only other person in Saint Louis placing orders with Buster & Punch.)

The brand's signature knurled finish, which feels motorcycle-shop-but-like-somehow-fancy, was what originally caught my eye. But the ability to truly "build your own" 4-gang switch was a major novelty as well. Adding a dimmer felt like the right choice for my unrelenting overhead light, even though it doesn't make as exciting of a thwack! sound as the flipper-switches do. If the whole motorcycle-shop-chic vibe isn't your jam, there are some more classical styles I'm considering for my next project at NalataNalata, deVOL Kitchens, and Dowsing&Reynolds. (Why do UK brands seem to be cornering the market on interesting switches? I do not know.)

3) HEATH Ceramics Coupe Dinner Bowl, $50
First, a confession: I do not own these exact bowls. What I own are some similarly low, wide bowls in a sensible medium-grey earthy finish from Hawkins New York which used to be called something like the Shaker Dinnerware line and are now called simply the "Essential Low Bowl". The problem? With the name change went everything I loved about these bowls. When they were "Shaker", they were hand-thrown (which I can tell because I used to hand-throw pottery also). They had a substantial, meaty lip at the top, not a delicately tapered edge. They felt...rustic. Charmingly rustic, not oafish or ill-formed, but definitely rustic. And, as a fun bonus, they perform incredibly in the microwave—the bowl stays cool but the food gets hot. Imagine.

Now that they are the "Essential Low Bowl," they're less than half the price but they've lost these little details that make them so desirable. The truth is, I would probably like the "Essential Low Bowl" perfectly well if I had never encountered the Shaker Dinnerware, but since I did, I can't see them as anything but a disappointment.

HOWEVER. The HEATH Ceramics Coupe Dinner Bowl? Now this is a bowl I can get behind. HEATH knows their shit—ask Alice Waters or the folks at Herman Miller, for that matter—and when it comes to bowls, they have all shapes and sizes. But this one is the platonic ideal for most meals. It has a bit more of a "foot" than the Hawkins styles, which is a fun addition, but it feels spiritually similar to the low bowls I love. It's weighty. The glaze options are, of course, stunning—the Tartine Teal and Butterscotch options are particularly compelling—but I'm drawn to the versatile medium-grey-green that is Rosemary. This is a versatile color that can be dressed up or down.

The reason I consider these an upgrade is that I bought mine for the first Thanksgiving I ever hosted, and I sort of imagined they would remain the "fancy dinner" bowls for special occasions only. But then I just...started using them all the time. For everything. Now they're my well-loved everyday bowls, and they both elevate the look and feel of whatever half-improvised New York Times Cooking recipe I dump into them at the end of the night, and make me feel like more of a Real Person on those occasions when I can only bring myself to eat mac and cheese. These bowls may not look overly fancy, and really, they're not. But they have a quiet refinement to them. And every time I think "so what, I'll eat these leftovers out of the tupperware," I stop and decide that I deserve a little quiet refinement and I use one of these bowls instead. And now it's just a habit. A good habit.

4) Mason Pearson Junior Nylon & Boar Bristle Hairbrush, $225

It brings me absolutely no pleasure to admit to you all that Mason Pearson brushes Are Really That Good, Actually. I was fully prepared for these to be yet another scam perpetrated on us strivers by the ruling class, like La Mer or airport lounges. But unfortunately I am here to report the news, and the news is that this brush is fucking magical.

A couple tips, if you are preparing yourself to be suckered into this world of $200+ hair brushes as I was:

- The boar bristles are the whole point. Mason Pearson brushes have exactly 2 benefits going for them: the boar bristles, and the sort of pneumatic pin-cushion thing they're set into. The second is no longer a novel concept to anyone who grew up in modern times. But the first is where the magic's at. The boar bristles distribute the oils in your hair for a healthy, even sheen. Some, like this model, intersperse Boar with nylon. This is fine. But do not buy a Mason Pearson brush that's only nylon bristles. There only thing worse than buying a $225 hair brush because it's exactly as transformative as everyone says it is, is buying a $225 hair brush that isn't, but has the same brand name as the one that is.

- On that tip: Mason Pearson brushes are cheaper in the UK. Not massively, but still, enough for it to count when you're dropping this much money. If you have a very understanding and patient friend who will be traversing Heathrow anytime soon, maybe see if you can call in a favor. (Thanks, Leanne!)

- And if not: there may still be a way to lighten the load on your wallet. Some sales will exclude the Mason Pearson brand entirely, but if you're ready to make a purchase, be sure to cross-check your store cards and upcoming annual sales. For instance: Dermstore stocks Mason Pearson, and they have a biannual-or-so 20% off-everything sale that you might be able to line up with; ditto Bluemercury, where you also may have some member perks in the form of $10 off vouchers sitting in your account if you shop with them regularly. If the sales and promos are a no-go, at least try to earn some store points: Nordstrom, Neiman and all the usual department store suspects stock them, so try for a points-multiplier day. Listen, we do what we can.

5) Kohler Moxie Speaker Shower Head with Harman Kardon Sound, from $181

I would love to tell you that the first purchase I made after I bought my house was something sensible and practical.

Or, barring that, I would at least love to tell you that I bought this showerhead speaker so that I could do something cool, like listen to James Brown while sipping shower wine.

But no. The truth is, I immediately updated one of the least-historic-and-therefore-least-actively-crumbling parts of my new-old house so I could listen to podcasts in the shower. Not even """cool""" podcasts. (Are there any cool podcasts? Debatable.) Mostly podcasts debunking 90s tabloid stories and airport bestsellers. Mostly podcasts that make me slightly more insufferable to be around. But you know what? I love listening to my little podcasts in the shower. That's another one of my crucial habits. And this thing? This chunky little speaker that magnetically pops (with a satisfying little thud) into its surrounding shower head? This makes that part of my day so much better.

I am not an expert on sound quality. AT ALL. I don't even use headphones unless I'm traveling, so I consume most media through whatever basic-ass speakers my device comes pre-loaded with. So I'm not qualified to speak on that. But I will say that, on every metric I am qualified to speak on, this is a good little device. It connects reliably and quickly. You can pop it out and bring the speaker part around the house with you. It has a little charging doc that works well. It turns itself off if you forget about it.

But really, what higher praise could I give it than just this: it makes something I have to do every day, feel like something I get to do every day.

And that's the point, right?