What People Actually Want To Know.

Nothing. Listing costs you nothing, and a piece that sits waiting a month for the right person costs you nothing. We take 10 per cent on the day it sells, and that is the only money that ever moves between us.

Then it has cost you the six seconds you spent holding your phone up at it. There is no fee for trying, and nothing to cancel.

No part of it. The camera fills in what the piece is, what it is made of and how it has worn. Then you answer three questions only you can answer, and the atelier brings out what was already in them — the life the piece has had, in your own words. Most people type under twenty words in total.

You do. A suggestion sits beside the box and it is only ever a suggestion. Nothing changes your number without you.

Not until somebody has bought it and paid in full. Only then do they have your address, and the only conversation left is when you are both able.

At any moment, for any reason, with nobody to tell. It is yours until it is somebody else's.

Because the person letting it go tells you, before you ask. Where it stood, who used it, and what has actually worn — the faded side, the squeak, the soft arm. A listing here is written to be honest rather than to be flattering.

You pay here, on the page you are already on, in a tap. You are never sent off to somewhere that looks nothing like this and handed back.

After. The money is already settled, so all that is left to agree is when you are coming — which is a much easier conversation than the one that usually happens first.

All of it. That is the point. Every piece here has already had a life, and what you are told about it is the life it had.

You add its next act, and it travels with the piece to whoever has it after you. Nothing here is finished. It is between rooms.

Furniture, bicycles, instruments, tools, what a kitchen holds, books, what a garden needs — anything a grown-up life accumulates. It reads what is in front of it rather than picking from a short list.

Yes. 2 readings a day, with no account and nothing to fill in. Open an account and every piece of yours is read.

Change it. Every line it writes is yours to keep, correct or throw out entirely, and nothing is published until you are happy with it.