Knob Magazine is the interiors magazine that celebrates the "grot, the tat and the treasure" that make a house a home.

Knob is an interiors magazine-turned-newsletter.

It covers living spaces, food, and tales of living in the city.

The idea grew from shower thought to fruition in the form of two print magazines. Created with the intention of becoming my graduate project, the demand for Knob (bet you didn’t think you’d read that today) was beyond unexpected, and so another print run and issue followed. As much as nothing beats holding a magazine, they unfortunately cost a bonkers amount to print, which means I have had to put a temporary cork in it. I have been spoiled rotten with the brilliant writers who gave their time to these copies, and our range of interviewees who literally opened their doors to me. It is my wholehearted intention that with your support from this newsletter, Knob will take to the page again. In the meantime, you can expect the usual range of interiors, interviews and recipes monthly if not more, along with The Kitchen Sink…

The Kitchen Sink

A monthly dispatch from yours truly, inspired by my habit of piling plates in the kitchen sink, and leaving them to “soak” until the next morning. Think of it as a one sided (sorry) natter over a cup of tea. Quickly approaching my mid-twenties and living in London, this newsletter is an outlet for me to share anecdotes from life and my kitchen. I stress in advance that I am very much a “home cook”: no measurements will be exact, but the food will satisfy a hungry belly, and is easy to multiply for kindred hosts. I am also fortunate to have such a diversely talented bunch of friends. It goes without saying that they will be the linchpins of this newsletter, and with their blessing, their stories of navigating city-life both successfully and otherwise will be shared here too. I’ll spare you grizzly details like my shopping list (this week included 70/30 bread whatever the hell that means), but hope that whatever has been carefully placed or thrown with sheer abandon into the kitchen sink will make you laugh, and maybe make you say, “thank f**k, it’s not just me”.