Inside My New House: The Living Room

My living room.

As soon as I walked into my house, I knew it was the one: The grand staircase, the crystal chandelier in the foyer, and the columns surrounding the living room are the type of elegant details I knew I wouldn’t find in a newer build. Constructed in the early 1900s, the house is a late example of the Second Empire style, complete with the characteristic mansard roof. Perhaps in keeping with the architecture, the previous owner had decorated the interior with heavy antique furniture and thick, dark-colored drapes. I decided to forgo historical accuracy in favor of brighter, lighter decor, built around my trademark blend of new pieces and time-worn antiques.

The living room, as the previous owner had decorated it.

I knew I wanted mint-colored walls, but I didn’t want my living room to look childlike or cartoonish. After buying far too many paint samples, I settled on Breezeway, a Behr color that has all the coolness of mint, without any of the confectionary undertones. 

My first big purchase was the chairs. I’d seen spool chairs in magazines, and fell in love with the intricate shape of the legs. I’m notorious for buying uncomfortable furniture, and didn’t want to make that mistake again. So I splurged on the deep-seated Behnaz Chair from Thomasville. Able to choose a custom fabric and wood finish, I selected a sumptuous velvet—a welcome dose of warmth in a cool room—in almost the exact same color as my walls.

Next, I began the hunt for a rug. A classic Oriental rug would be the obvious choice for an older home, but I wanted something a little more modern. Thus the zebra print. It was meant to be: The rug was sold out everywhere online, but I found the same rug, brand new, on my local Craigslist.

Although the rug is advertised as having gray stripes, they’re actually closer to beige. At first, I was concerned—I tend to go matchy-matchy, making sure every pop of color is exactly the same shade. I decided to override this impulse, selecting the slate-gray curtains (made to look like dupioni silk) I’d originally had in mind. To keep this from looking like a mistake, I chose a blue-gray tufted velvet sofa—the color picks up the mint in the chairs and the gray in the curtains, while the velvet material mirrors the fabric of the chairs.

I bought a bolt of geometric Schumacher fabric on Ebay, and made the throw pillows for the chairs. The fringed gray pillows on the sofa came from Pier One, while the geometric-print pillows are Vera Wang (a Marshall’s find!). 

I already owned the final two big pieces: a 1940s cabinet as my TV stand (a Craigslist purchase from college), and an off-white tufted ottoman I’d purchased at Marshall’s for our previous home.   I added the glass and silver side table for a touch of modernity, then flanked the sofa with two tables in a dark-wood finish similar to the chairs. The white ceramic lamps—a thrift-store find—mimic the curves of the tables, while also bringing a sculptural element to the space. 

For the longest time, the wall above the couch remained blank—I was uninspired, and didn’t want to purchase one of those generic “paintings” from HomeGoods. I wanted something with significance that also made a statement. When I found a booth selling vintage postcards at an area antique store, I knew I’d found my answer—I dug through box after box of postcards, searching for twelve that featured places significant to our life (e.g. Lehigh University, where Frank got his M.B.A.; the park in Allentown where I took wedding photos; a bridge from my hometown). 

One problem: Postcards are tiny, and my wall is huge. I like the simplicity of small pictures with large matting, so I bought square silver frames from Ikea—another modern element—and matted the postcards two to a frame. The entire installation cost me under $100. 

A few meaningful accessories rounded out the room: a coffee-table tray embroidered with the courthouse and city hall just a couple blocks from our house; a silver tea set from Frank’s aunt; a white ceramic horse I bought at a market in Thailand; and a wooden box Frank purchased in Egypt. (I like knick-knacks to have a story, which is why I almost always purchase home decor items when I travel.) 

The final result was exactly what I wanted: a restful space where Asa can play, Frank and I can relax and enjoy a movie, or my friends can gather for a Bible study. That is, a space both beautiful and functional. 

The Best of My Thrift Store Finds

Can You Guess What This Is?

People often comment on my ability to find treasures at thrift stores, then ask if I can teach them my ways. Although I do have a few Goodwill shopping secrets, I believe it's more about having an eye—learning to see potential in a forlorn-looking item piled onto a shelf with a dozen other donated goods. 

Here a few of my most recent (and favorite) finds:

I normally scoff at thrift-score tchotchkes, but this little guy was too cute to pass up. He doesn't have any defining marks, so I have no idea if he's worth anything. But he only cost a quarter. And who could refuse that sweet little face? I also found the tray he's sitting on at Goodwill for $5 (a Target cast-off), and I bought the antique typing table beneath (see it here) at a thrift store for $10 a few years back. 

Several months ago, my mom started collected Golden Books, and she inspired me to do the same. I only purchase the antique ones, like these two (the one on the left is from 1951, the other is missing its copyright page). The cost for both: $.70.

Agate home accessories have exploded in popularity this year, so I was thrilled to find these agate bookends for $45 at a thrift store in Sonoma, California. (I've seen them elsewhere for upwards of $100.)

I picked up this metal planter for $7 at Goodwill. The legs were falling off, so Frank, of course, had to buy a rivet gun to repair them (he was thrilled). A new planter AND a new tool!

I scored this mercury glass lamp at Goodwill for $10. I had to buy a shade (which naturally cost twice as much), but I still consider it a steal! 

This may just look like a worn-out wooden box, but it's actually an antique advertising case for Rush Park Seeds, based in Iowa. I paid $36 for it at a local thrift shop, which is much more than I'd normally spend at a secondhand store. But boxes like this go for close to $400 on eBay! 

This little bird is actually an antique salt shaker. The matching pepper shaker was missing, but I bought him for $2 anyway (I'm a sucker for cute animal items!). I also bought the metal tray underneath for $.25 at the same thrift shop.

The Bargain Hunter's Guide to Goodwill

I've been shopping at Goodwill since elementary school. I bought my first pair of dress-up cowboy boots at Goodwill (which I still wear, by the way) around age 5. That was in the early 90s, way before people began nodding with appreciation when I told them, "I bought this at the thrift store." (They were more likely to feel sorry for me, in my sparkly Goodwill vests.) And it was definitely before there were songs glorifying thrift shopping. 

As a child, I hunted for Barbies and Beanie Babies. As a teen, I shifted my search to anything bearing the Abercrombie label. Now, it's housewares and designer clothing. I have learned a few success strategies along the way...

1. Know your Goodwill employees
There are three types of Goodwill employees: 1) Teenagers who are there only because they need a job (or perhaps got in trouble) 2) The power trippers, who wield the pricing gun like a weapon 3) The people who truly love what they do. The power trippers are the ones to avoid. Overpricing is their M.O., and store policy is their law. If an item doesn't have a price, you should approach either the teen or the passionate employee. 

A few months back, I found an adorable Madeline doll I wanted to buy for my niece. It didn't have a sticker. The power trippers would have told me no sticker means no sale (or named some ridiculously high amount). But a teenage boy at the desk sold it to me for a quarter.

2. Look for $_.99 stickers
If the price ends in .99, it means the item is salvage, purchased in bulk from a store like Target. Goodwill buys pallets of salvage for a set price, without knowing what's inside. Usually, it's from Target, although I suspect one Goodwill in my area buys from Forever 21.

Sometimes the items are slightly damaged. I found, for example, a mercury glass lamp from Target that was slightly rusted on the bottom. Other times, salvage goods are just clearance items that never sold. (At the end of a holiday season, I often see Target decorations at Goodwill.) And finally, if you hit the jackpot, you'll find items that simply have damaged packaging. I once found a perfectly intact lampshade that was still for sale at Target. A few months ago, I bought a Target starburst mirror with a damaged box for $12.99. 

Not every Goodwill sells Target salvage. So before you drive all over town, give your local stores a call. The employees will be able to tell you if they receive surplus shipments. 

3. Time your visits.
My Goodwill usually restocks in the evening. That means I find the best stuff around 8 p.m. Others load up the shelves in the A.M. (My mom says her best finds happen at 9 a.m., when the store first opens.) Figure out when your store's staff does most of their work, then swing by around that time to secure the best stuff. 

4. Hit more than one location
Don't give up if your local Goodwill is subpar. Inventory varies from location to location, so take a trip across town to scout a better thrift shop. Some stores focus more on furniture, others on clothes. Some carry Target salvage, others don't. My general rules: Goodwill's in wealthier areas are best, and the longer the store has been open, the better the selection. (In the words of my mother, "It takes 'em a while to get junked up.")

5. Find the right brands
Goodwill employees recognize moderately expensive brands, like Banana Republic of Express, and super high-end brands, like Prada. They mark both up. (I've seen stretched-out, faded Polo shirts for ten bucks. Ridiculous.) The in-between, less recognizable brands, like Free People or French Connection, are the bargain hunter's sweet spot. Because employees don't recognizes the names, these garments are often cheap. I once found a brand new Nanette Lepore blazer for $8.

6. Check the garment return rack. 
Outside the Goodwill dressing room you'll find a garment return rack, inevitably loaded down with designer goods. Somebody has already rifled through the aisles of clothing for you, and pulled out the most stylish stuff to try on. (And lucky for you, it didn't fit her.) 

Vintage Recycled Jewelry Charm Bracelet

I first started making jewelry 10 years ago, when I was in the 8th grade. The cool girls were all wearing handmade, glass-bead charm bracelets, and I desperately wanted one. But they were expensive, and I was cheap. So I taught myself how to make my own—and nobody ever knew the difference. I was hooked. However, I soon discovered the reason for the bracelets' sky-high prices: The cost of jewelry-making quickly adds up (especially on a middle-school budget). 

       My solution: make jewelry out of jewelry. I look for vintage jewelry with good bones—heavy-duty clasps, metal chains, glass beads—at thrift stores, then disassemble it for parts. Most thrift stores charge no more than a dollar or two per piece, and each could yield enough parts for several projects. 

       For this bracelet, I raided my mom's stash of vintage jewelry. I simply cut two pieces of chain to the desired length (the size of my wrist), leaving a pre-existing clasp on the end of one chain. With pliers, I pried open the last link of one of the pieces of chain, and connected it to the final link of the other. Then, I attached charms from a handful of other pieces. Finally, I cut a slightly longer piece of vintage rhinestone chain, used E-6000 glue to attach jump rings to its ends, and wound it loosely around the two chains. (I attached the rhinestone chain's jump rings to the ends of the bracelet.) To give the clasp something to grasp, I attached an oval link from an old necklace to the end of the bracelet. All of this took me no more than an hour. Simple!

A few things to look for and consider when buying vintage jewelry:

• Charms attached with jump rings, rather than welded rings (you want to be able to remove them without cutting the ring)

Jump ring.

• Heavy jewelry (weight is often a sign of quality)
• Prong-set rhinestones, instead of glued-on stones

The spikes at each corner are prongs.

• Clasps other than lobster clasps

Lobster clasps = not vintage.

• Don't fret over flaws. You're going to be disassembling the jewelry, so don't discount an item because of chips, broken pieces, etc. You may even be able to negotiate a bargain-bin price for such pieces. (Missing stones are the exception, as the you'll likely want to reuse embellished parts of the jewelry.)
• Stick to thrift stores. If you shop at antique stores, you're going to pay a premium for vintage jewelry. You're better off at thrift stores, where they aren't trained to distinguish between, say, Bakelite and 1990's plastic junk.