This is in no way an endorsement from my husband to run down to Anthropologie and shop like there's no tomorrow. It's not even an invitation to stop at Target for a few things from the dollar section. Instead, it is a small plea for me to stop shopping at garage sales and resale shops. To stop perusing Ebay and the Salvation Army for that one item I didn't know I needed until I saw it.
I'm a little obsessed, I tell you. I love looking at something odd and seeing how it could function in our house. I love that it belonged to someone else a long time ago, and that they too probably smiled when they found just the right place for it in their home. I adore vintage and antique-looking things; items that just may have a story. Now- you will not find me spending hundreds of dollars on something just because it was built 150 years ago. I don't really care who the architect/builder was, or the exact period things might be from. I don't have a "dealer". (I'm not buying crack) Instead, I want to feel something when I look at it. I buy old cookbooks because they have handwritten recipes inside the pages, old sewing patterns because I imagine the excitement some young mom had in making the newest dress of the season. I love finding pieces of milkglass because it's what my grandmother had as I was growing up.
Orphan stuff. We own a hutch that someone's Dad made, an end table from my mother-in-law's garage because I found the shape and color beautiful. (and it was free!) I have a soup tureen from one of my dearest friends. It doesn't match anything in my kitchen, but it is displayed proudly and makes me smile each time I pass it- because it belonged to a gorgeous woman who loved her family. As you can imagine, our house does not look like Pottery Barn or a showroom from Thomasville. But it is warm, comfortable and loved. There are a lot of odd little pieces in this house and I wouldn't want it any other way.
My husband interprets some of my purchases/gifts/rescues as used and worn; dare I say it, junk. Why would I want that old thing? I'd like to say that he's not snobby, but he does have a distinctive look on his face when he walks into stores that have certain odors of the past. He's been known to ask me if I really paid money for some of what I bring home. I can't tell if it's embarrassing to him or not. Does it reflect his ability to provide for us? Absolutely not. Maybe boys just don't get it. Remember, this man loves shiny new gadgets that have megabytes and codes and stuff....
Though I joke, I love him dearly for taking a deep breath and entering those resale shops with me. For smiling when I drag something in the house that might be missing a few screws or pieces. I understand that he can't always see what I do in these things, but man o man, he sure tries. Most of the time he'll nod his head, shrug his shoulders and endure; not only because he knows how much these silly things mean to me, but because more than likely, our next stop will be Best Buy.