Mr. Sharpie's Manifesto

Boy do we feel happy (and lucky) to have Lindy at Bloom today. When I asked her to guest, I thought she'd come up with something wonderful and thoughtful and perfect. And I was right. Hope this post gets your wheels turning. It has sure made me think.
Thanks so much for being here, Lindy.

I didn't mean for this to start out as a manifesto. When Emily asked me to write a guest post (and by the way, I'm so very happy to be here you; thanks for the invite Emily!), I thought I'd do something about some of my upcycling (I guess that's the new term now) projects. Fun! Great! I love to show folks my before-and-after pictures. Because everyone, and I mean everyone, loves a before-and-after shot. And then I started thinking about why I like old stuff and why I love to fix stuff up.

And then I stared at Mr. Sharpie. For a good long time. Actually, I stare at him every time I sit down at the computer because Mr. Sharpie has occupied the little nook on the right side of our desk for the past 12 years. You see my husband has had Mr. Sharpie since he was eight years old. Yes, my husband has owned (and used, I might add) the same pencil sharpener for the past 26 years. I'm not even sure how that is possible. But it is. And it says a lot about my husband, but even more about the transformation of our culture into one of conspicuous consumption over the past three decades. Okay, I'm getting a little ahead of myself here.

My husband and I both come from a long line of do-it-yourselfers. Both of our parents have remodeled countless pieces of furniture and a dozen or so homes, so it should come as no surprise that we would follow suit. Luckily, we both love the way older pieces give the homes we have lived in character and warmth. Now, I know some people wouldn't be caught dead with old stuff in their house, and I used to think that was okay. You know, a difference in taste. But, as I have reflected upon our choice of how to furnish our house, I realize more and more that is is a decision that not only reflects our aesthetic, but our political and spiritual values as well. Heaven (and Target) knows that I'm not a purist--not even close. And, I'm not unilaterally advocating that old is inherently better than new, or that we shouldn't buy stuff, I'm just hoping that we can all be a bit more mindful of the items we do choose to bring into our lives.

Aesthetically Pleasing

First of all, you know that feeling when you see someone with your same cute shirt from The GAP? Or when two actresses wear the same designer dress to an awards show (um, awkward)? That's kind of how I feel when I purchase something from one of the big box stores. I know that when I buy that cute dish towel from Anthropologie, or the chair from IKEA, about a million of my closest friends are buying the exact same thing. But when you buy old stuff, you are almost guaranteed that no one is going to have a piece quite like yours. Talk about exclusive!

This one-of-a-kind vintage quilt bought for $25 at an antique store in Illinois keeps us and our couch cozy.

Second of all, our grandparents were right: they don't make'em like they used to. Much of the stuff that is made today is not made to last and it shows. Would a pencil sharpener made today still be working 26 years from now? Probably not. I think we can all agree that we live in an increasingly throw-away culture. We've got the landfills to prove it. But, when things are designed so poorly, it's hard to treat them with much respect. On the other hand, a piece of furniture that is carefully constructed to last a lifetime or two begs to be lovingly cared for.

Spiritually Seeking

If all things are imbued with a spirit (and I think they just might be), doesn't it make sense to treat them as such? Clearly our dining room table (a farm table from the 1850's that we purchased for $100 in an antique store in Cambridge, MA) has been well loved and well cared for. I love the warmth of the wood, and the worn patina. And I love that the table connects us physically to the past and humbles us in knowing that we are (hopefully) just one of many families who have and will use it to break bread. So far in our possession it has survived two cross-country moves, and two teething toddlers, and it still looks beautiful.

I love this pair of antique chairs (hand-me-downs from my parents) that we use at our dining room table.

It's good for the spirit to honor pieces that are old and well made, but it's also great to give new life to "gently used" pieces. Such was the case with a hutch I bought at our local thrift store. A pint of Benjamin Moore's (it's the most environmentally-friendly paint I've found out there) "Tropicana Cabana" and a little tlc, and I had myself a unique bookcase.

I love to repaint furniture. I don't know if it's the actual creative act of painting, the almost immediate gratification that comes from transforming a piece in just a few hours, or the delight in making something beautiful and useful for a few bucks, but it's a satisfaction that is hard to find anywhere else. Go ahead and try it for yourself (if you haven't already). Paint something your favorite color and see if you don't get just a little spring in your step.

This dresser, from the 1950's, originally belonged to my aunt. I painted it red and added some modern hardware.

My mom refurbished this little nightstand for me many years ago. I love the delicate vintage hardware she choose.

Consciousness Raising

When I was 13 I bought an album called "I Do Not Want What I Haven't Got." For the past 20 years, I've been trying to reach that nirvana. If you saw my closet, you would know that it has been an uphill battle. But I think it's a battle worth fighting. I want my children to grow up being happy with less and appreciating what they have. I'd love for my 4-year old, Anders, to be able to pass on his dad's Transformer (a well preserved Daitron 3 if you must know) to his own child someday. Or at the very least to treat the belongings he has with respect. I also want him to be socially conscious; I want him to realize that he lives a very privileged life that many children around the world only dream of. And that the actions we take, the products we buy, the waste we produce, have global consequences. I want him to know that when we buy older stuff, we're supporting local thrift stores and small businesses, and that we're sending a message that we want to limit the amount of mass-produced junk made in China under questionable working conditions we bring into our house. And I want him to know that when we take care of our stuff, then reuse, recycle, upcycle, repurpose, or re-whatever it, we're sending less stuff to landfills, which helps to keep the air we breathe and the water we drink a little cleaner.

So, the next time you buy (or inherit) something for your house, I hope you'll explore the ramifications your decision has on the environment, your spirit, and your pocketbook (not to put pressure on you or anything).

Maybe the best thing we can do to show our gratitude this Thanksgiving season is to honor all of the things we already have (Mr. Sharpie will thank us).


* For more of Lindy, visit her on her blog.