I was raised in Charlotte, North Carolina, I guess you could say I have an innate (and learned) sense of hosting and connection to community that began with my grandmother, Edith. She embodied the concept of gracious hospitality — the idea that entertaining should always feel comfortable and never contrived and she always looked you in the eye when she was speaking to you (and expected the same). My love for gardening stemmed from her as did a freshly pressed linen. I swear some of those napkins could stand up on their own and one of my favorite scents is a summer-ripened tomato freshly plucked from the vine.
I learned about textiles from my grandfather who ran the menswear buying department for a well-known department store. He paid me a penny for every little square of fabric I perfectly tacked into the swatch books. Little did I know that the nine colorways of Tommy Hilfiger’s 1988 collection of seersucker shorts would come in handy one day. My father hung wallpaper for over a decade. I have a serious passion for paper and pattern and I am still in disbelief that grasscloth is back in style (I’m considering a really lovely black and gold one to go above the chair rail in my dining room now…) He taught me what it means to be a craftsman and although far from glamorous, wallpaper hanging is an artform. One to be celebrated and appreciated. If you don’t believe me, just wait until your seams don’t line up.
I discovered my love of a beautiful place settings from the four china collections I inherited (including one that my grandmother gifted me when I was 20, “in case she died before I got married”). and by working for one of D.C.’s premier catering companies. The options, the fascination with what and how people choose their patterns and how important it was that the selection match the service. It sure is hard to eat soup with a salad fork. I’ve been fortunate enough to set tables for over twenty years, I’ve been invited into people’s homes, I’ve laughed with chefs and cooks that will let me taste from the pan and I’ve enjoyed champagne from a plastic cup while shucking oysters from the river. I’m not condoning serving champagne in a plastic cup at your next dinner party, but sometimes it makes sense and I am saying you should let joy take you on a journey, that is where the best stories are made.
Danielle Couick
This is the true spirit of Ghost Host, it isn’t always fancy, though sometimes it is. No matter what though, it should make sense to you and your guests, it should tell your story (and create one), it should celebrate the people that made it, grew it, loved it and poured their everything into it. And from there, it spoke to you. We’ve told ourselves that it has to be perfect or it's too hard or that you don't know how and that just isn’t true. Sure, there are a few rules I’d suggest following along the way but only because it makes it easier for you. I realize that not everyone grew up like me and there is power in knowledge and information. I want to revive the art of hosting, celebrating the every day and gathering intentionally.
(she\her\hers)