Stepping into The Snug, you’ll notice how easy it feels to stay awhile. Sunlight spills across vintage furniture and collected décor, handmade goods, and shelves riddled with stories from decades past. One room leads naturally into the next, each thoughtfully styled with its own personality and charm.
That sense of warmth is intentional.
“The reason I created it is because I wanted a warm, cozy place for people to shop, to meet, and to donate so that the community benefited,” says owner Connie Schibilla. “I just want a place that people can depend upon. They can feel relaxed. They can share their story.”
Located in Chanhassen, The Snug is a nonprofit home furnishings and décor shop built around what Connie calls “resell with a purpose.” Sales from donated items support six local charities, all of which she has personally volunteered for over the years.
“I hand-chose the charities because I know their specific needs,” Connie says. “Sometimes they receive funds for specific purposes, whereas when I donate a monetary amount to them, they can use it for whatever they want.”
The Snug was born out of transition and community trust. Connie previously managed Furnishare, one of the Love INC ministries. When the organization shifted away from furniture, longtime volunteers and supporters encouraged her to create something new of her own.
“So I formed my own nonprofit, hence The Snug,” she says.
Today, the space serves as both a charitable nonprofit and a carefully curated destination for vintage lovers, collectors, and curious shoppers alike. The store blends donated goods with vendor spaces rented by local resellers and artists, creating an ever-changing mix of antique finds, modern pieces, and handcrafted work.
“We’ve got a little something for everybody,” Connie says.
That variety is part of what makes the store feel so personal. One shopper may be searching for affordable furnishings for a first apartment, while another hopes to replace a goblet from a grandparent’s collection. Families stop in for children’s books and cookies. Others simply come to browse, talk, and spend time together.
“We have people that come and sit and talk for hours,” Connie says. “Or they have their board meeting here, or they have their committee meetings here.”
The stories attached to the items are often what resonate most. Connie recalls pieces brought in by families who struggled to part with them but wanted the heirlooms to continue serving a meaningful purpose.
“They want it to go for a good cause,” she says. “Many of the items brought in by families are considered rare, but their true value is in their origin story.”
Some items arrive with especially memorable histories, like décor collected during a year spent living abroad in Africa or from a merchant in a small European village. Others spark conversations between strangers, discovering shared memories through a familiar dish set, antique table, or vintage lamp.
“When they buy things, they want to know the story,” Connie says. “Everything has a story. It’s kind of fun.”
The Snug is powered entirely by volunteers, many of whom return week after week because they genuinely enjoy being there.
“We have a lot of fun,” Connie says with a laugh. “It’s kind of a sickness, but it’s also a passion.”
That passion extends to the local creatives who rent vignette spaces throughout the store. Shoppers will find handmade jewelry, aprons, painted furniture, and original artwork alongside antique and vintage décor. Each vendor brings a distinct style, adding to the layered atmosphere that makes every visit feel a little different from the last.
And this summer, The Snug will continue expanding its role as a community gathering place. Beginning in July, Connie plans to introduce classes ranging from watercolor painting and furniture design to mahjong lessons.
“Someday, I’d like to have a little sandwich shop in here so that they can come and spend a little bit longer,” she says.
In many ways, that vision already exists. The Snug has become a place where people linger, share stories, and reconnect with pieces of the past. In a fast-moving world, the shop offers something increasingly rare: a welcoming space built on conversation, creativity, and community care.
I just want a place that people can depend upon. They can feel relaxed. They can share their story.
We have people that come and sit and talk for hours. Or they have their board meeting here, or they have their committee meetings here.