Alexandra shares the beautiful moments of Vermont with the world. The gardens, the long tables, a true country house outside Burlington. Being a Vermonter, and knowing her, I can vouch that it is not a performance. It is just the reality. I left dinner with flour on my shirt. She shopped local that day for the freshest ingredients, we rolled our own pizzas, cut flowers from the field, set the table with Coastland caviar dishes, and cheersed the good company while the July light made its long slow exit.
Full disclosure on the Vermont of it all. My first two years in the state, I had a home on an island in Lake Champlain. The realtor who sold my house turned out to be her dad. This place has maybe four degrees of separation on a busy day.
Alex has been in Coastland's DNA from the start. Curious, travel-minded, devoted to New England, particular about well built goods and quiet style. Coastland has an ethos and she was living it before it was ever put on a hangtag.
We talked about staying close to home, why she hosts, and the case for using your nice things... Her Acadia Tote has a year of boat days on it now. It shows.
If your early-twenties self could see your life today, do you think she would be surprised?
Honestly, I don't think she'd be overly surprised because I always dreamed my life would feel something like this one day. A little slower, more intentional, and centered around the people I love. But I think she'd be surprised by how much fulfillment I've found by staying close to home. When I was younger, I thought I needed to leave Vermont to build the life and career I wanted. Instead, I've been able to build both here. I've created a life that's deeply connected to the people, the place, and the community that shaped me, and I don't think I fully appreciated how meaningful that would become when I was younger.
What did you think you were supposed to want back then, and when did that start to shift?
In my early twenties, I thought success looked like climbing the corporate ladder in a big city outside of the state because that's what I believed I was supposed to want. As I've gotten older, I've realized that fulfillment has much less to do with titles or achievements and much more to do with the life you're creating every day. Finding the person I wanted to build a life with, creating a home we love, building community, and making time for creativity have ended up being far more meaningful than I ever expected.
What I've also learned is that those things don't have to exist separately. Building a life in Vermont didn't mean giving up on my career or my ambitions. In many ways, it gave me the foundation to grow them. I've been able to build my brand, work with incredible people, and create a career I genuinely love while staying rooted in the place that has always been home. Instead of seeing Vermont as something I had to leave behind, I learned to embrace it. The relationships I've built, the local community, and the experiences that shaped me have become some of my greatest strengths. Success, to me now, is having a life that feels full, not just one that looks impressive from the outside.
Growing up in Vermont, did you always appreciate the slower pace, or is that something you've grown into?
I think growing up in a small rural town in Northern Vermont definitely planted the seed. Life naturally moved at a slower pace. Growing up on the lake, there was more time spent outside, with family, and in the community. Looking back, I'm so grateful for the upbringing my parents gave us because it shaped so much of who I am and how I want to live my life as an adult. My hope is to create that same kind of childhood and sense of home for my own family one day.
Moving into our farmhouse outside of Burlington gave me a new appreciation for the lifestyle I grew up with. It reminded me of what I'd always valued and reinforced the kind of life I wanted to build with my husband.
What does a slow day here actually look like, the real version, not the pretty one?
Slow days usually start by letting our dog out, making coffee, watering the garden, and spending time weeding or tending to our garden beds. I think one thing people don't always see is that life here isn't slow because there's nothing to do. In many ways, there's always something that needs your attention. The more land you have, the more there is to maintain. Any homeowner knows it's a blessing, but it also comes with a lot of responsibility.
For me, slowing down isn't about doing less. It's about being intentional with the things I'm doing. Taking care of our home, our garden, and the space we've built together feels meaningful, even if it's not always glamorous.
You've said home is less about the place and more about what happens in it. When did that click?
I think it really clicked after we moved out of Burlington and into our farmhouse just outside of town. At first, I was so focused on making the house beautiful, but over time I realized my favorite memories had very little to do with the house itself. It was getting engaged on our back patio, hosting our first housewarming, digging a pond that friends and family now come to skate on every winter, starting our annual holiday party, celebrating Easter and Christmas together, and sharing countless dinners around the table. Those are the moments that have made it feel like home.
I still love creating a beautiful space, but I've realized the house is really just the backdrop. What matters most are the people who fill it, the traditions you create together, and the memories you make along the way. That's what turns a house into a home.
Creativity, community, the land. If home is those things, what does building it look like day to day?
For me, building that life happens in the little things I do every day. It's tending to the flower garden in the morning, supporting local farms, makers, and small businesses whenever I can, inviting friends over for dinner, taking walks around our property with my husband and our dog, and creating traditions that bring people together.
Even my work is a part of that. Through creating content, I hope to inspire people to appreciate the beauty in everyday moments and to support the incredible people and small businesses that make every community unique, wherever they are.
At the end of the day, I'm simply trying to build a life that feels connected to the people I love, the place I call home, and the community around me. I've learned that this kind of life isn't built all at once. It's built through small, intentional efforts every single day.
Why do you host? What are you actually after when you fill a room?
I love having a space where I can invite people in and bring everyone together. At the heart of it, it's about spending quality time with the people I love, but hosting has also become a creative outlet for me. I genuinely enjoy dreaming up the menu, creating a mood board, putting together a tablescape, planning cocktails, and creating an atmosphere that feels warm and welcoming. But my favorite part is watching people settle in, slow down, and genuinely enjoy being together.
I also think there's something a little nostalgic about it. Dinner parties seem less common than they used to be, and I don't want to lose that. There's something really special about putting your phones away, lingering over dinner, and making time for real conversation. Those are the moments I remember long after the night is over.
What makes someone feel genuinely welcome in your home?
I think making someone feel welcome starts with removing all of the little moments where they might feel unsure or uncomfortable. We usually have my husband greet people outside or at the door, show them where to park, and welcome them in. I also always make sure there's a clear place to hang coats because that's almost always one of the first questions people ask.
From there, I like to have a few simple appetizers out, along with wine, glasses, ice, and a pitcher of water ready to go. Having those little things prepared helps people settle in naturally instead of wondering where everything is.
To me, hospitality is about anticipating people's needs before they have to ask. It's those small details that create a sense of ease and make people feel comfortable the moment they walk through the door.
The best nights feel effortless even when they aren't. What goes into that ease that people don't see?
I think the biggest thing I've learned about hosting is that the best gatherings start long before anyone arrives. I try to prepare as much as I can ahead of time so that when guests walk through the door, I'm not rushing around or making everyone feel like they need to jump in and help. I definitely learned that the hard way after my first few hosting experiences, and honestly, I still don't always get it right.
I've also learned a lot by paying attention to great hosts. They have a way of making everyone feel instantly comfortable, and I realized it's often because they're calm and present. People naturally pick up on the energy in a room.
So I do as much as I can beforehand, not because everything has to be perfect, but because I want to be fully present. I've realized guests don't remember whether everything went perfectly, they remember how you made them feel. The best gatherings feel effortless because the host is relaxed, present, and genuinely enjoying the people around the table.
You've had a few Coastland pieces for about a year now. Which one do you actually reach for without thinking?
The piece I reach for most without even thinking is definitely my Acadia Tote. It's become my catch-all bag for just about everything, whether I'm heading out for a day on the boat, sailing, packing for a weekend away, or even using it as my work bag.
The pockets are honestly my favorite part. Everything has a place, so I'm never digging around trying to find my keys or sunglasses. It's one of those pieces that has become part of my everyday routine because it's so functional, and it still looks beautiful no matter where I'm taking it.
What's changed about them since you got them, the canvas, the leather, the way they sit? And what's in your Acadia Tote right now?
One of my favorite things about the bag is that it actually gets better with time. The canvas has softened just enough to feel lived in, and the leather has developed a beautiful patina that gives it even more character. It still holds its shape beautifully, but it feels perfectly broken in.
Lately, it's been my go-to bag for both the sailboat and our motorboat. On any given day, you'll find a pair of sunglasses, sunscreen, lip gloss, a hair clip, a snack, and a beach towel inside. It's the bag I instinctively reach for because it fits everything I need while still feeling lightweight and easy to carry.
A lot of nice things get saved for later. You seem to use yours. Where does that come from?
Honestly, I'm not sure where it comes from, but I've always felt that life is too short to save beautiful things for “someday.” I'd much rather use them and enjoy them as part of everyday life than have them sit in a cabinet waiting for a special occasion.
Some of my favorite pieces belonged to my grandparents or other family members. They each have a story, and I love bringing them out because they often become conversation starters around the table. To me, that's so much more meaningful than everything being brand new. I love when a home feels curated and collected over time. Those pieces were meant to be used, shared, and enjoyed, and I think they become even more special because of it.
This season of your life, what are you actually trying to build?
Right now, I'm really trying to build community. Of course, that's true through my content creation and the online community I've been fortunate to grow, but what has surprised me most is how many meaningful relationships it's led to in real life. I've been able to connect with so many incredible people throughout Vermont and beyond, and those face-to-face conversations, collaborations, and friendships are what fill my cup the most. It's been such a reminder that social media can be a tool for creating genuine connection.
As I look ahead, I hope to continue growing my online work while using it to meet and collaborate with even more people locally. At the end of the day, that's what feels most meaningful to me: building a life centered around creativity, community, and real relationships.
What's the thing you'd tell someone in their twenties who feels behind?
I would tell them to remember that everyone is on their own journey, and there's no timeline you have to follow. It's so easy to compare yourself to where someone else is, especially with social media, but you rarely see the full picture or know someone else's story. Your twenties are meant for figuring things out, changing your mind, making mistakes, and growing into the person you're becoming. Looking back, I wish I had spent less time worrying about what was next and more time being present in the season I was in.
Life moves so quickly, and some of the moments I cherish most from my early twenties are the ordinary ones I didn't realize I'd miss at the time. So enjoy the ride, trust that you're exactly where you need to be, and remember that not everything has to be figured out right now.
Follow Alexandra at @alexandraacastle_. Photographs by Sarah Kjelleran.