About — The Harpy Nest
The Short Version
I’m Sharine. I’m about to turn 50. I buy things, I try things, I have opinions about them. This is where those opinions live.
The Longer Version
In Greek mythology, harpies were wind spirits with the bodies of birds and the faces of women. They were blamed for storms, for theft, for making things disappear. Ancient writers called them “snatchers” — these wild, unapologetic creatures who took what they wanted and answered to no one.
Naturally, history decided they were monsters.
I’ve always found that a little too familiar. A woman with sharp edges and strong appetites? Clearly terrifying. Must be dealt with.
I bought the domain harpynest.com years ago because the name stuck in my teeth and wouldn’t let go. Part mythology, part reclamation, part the fact that it sounds like happiness if you say it fast enough — and I liked that hidden sweetness underneath something fierce.
For a long time, the domain just sat there, waiting for me to figure out what it wanted to be. Turns out, it wanted to be what I already was: a place where all my supposedly unrelated obsessions finally get to exist in the same room without anyone asking me to explain myself.
The Things I Was “Weird” For
I’ve been into all of this my whole life. The skincare, the journals, the nice pens, the beautiful stationery. I was the person using a fountain pen at work while everyone else looked at me sideways. I was the one mourning the death of letter-writing and still wishing I had pen pals. I was the woman in her 30s with a ten-step skincare routine before the internet decided that was acceptable.
People thought it was odd. I did it anyway, but quietly — the way women learn to hold their weird things close and small so nobody comments.
It wasn’t until my 40s that I started to feel allowed. Allowed to own it. Allowed to say yes, I care about the weight of a pen in my hand. Yes, I think choosing a candle is a meaningful act. Yes, I wear mostly black and I will not be taking questions.
Now I’m about to turn 50, and I’m done being quiet about any of it.
What You’ll Find Here
Skincare that actually works on skin that has lived a life. Fountain pens and inks that make writing feel like a ritual. Stationery worth hoarding. Tarot for the curious, the skeptical, and the somewhere-in-between. Witchy things for women who light candles with intention. And clothes — oh, the clothes.
Here’s what I’m not going to do: show you a list of “What Women Over 40 Should Wear” that looks like every other list of what women over 40 should wear. You know the ones. The “timeless” blazers. The “classic” silhouettes. The beige. The relentless, soul-crushing beige. Those lists work for some women and that’s genuinely fine — but they don’t work for all of us, and I’m tired of pretending they’re the only option.
I wear black. I dress for myself. Not for the male gaze, not for the office dress code of a life I no longer live, not for anyone’s idea of what “age-appropriate” means. If anything, I’m dressing for 15-year-old me — the last version of myself who was allowed to be exactly who she was before life, men, society, relationships, and everything else spent decades trying to sand her down.
She had good taste. I’m finally listening to her again.
The Philosophy
I don’t recommend things I haven’t used. I don’t pretend everything is amazing. If something is mediocre, I’ll tell you it’s mediocre — life is too short and your money is too real for that.
This site does use affiliate links, which means I may earn a small commission if you purchase something through one of my recommendations. This doesn’t cost you anything extra, and it doesn’t change my opinion. I was going to have opinions regardless. This way, the opinions occasionally pay for themselves.
Why “The Harpy Nest”?
Because the harpy was never the villain. She was just a woman the world didn’t know what to do with.
The nest is the space she builds anyway — warm, curated, full of beautiful things, entirely on her own terms. I spent most of my life being shaped by other people’s expectations. This is the part where I stop. This site is for the women who are also stopping — or who stopped a long time ago.
Welcome to the nest.
— Sharine