I Spy With My Gimlet Eye

Sure I still have unpacked boxes begging for attention, a garage full of unloved furniture, and a room devoted entirely to packing paper and cardboard, but a girl's gotta shop for her new pad, right? I put it off as long as I could, but yesterday in between errands I managed to speedwalk through an antique mall which was, perhaps predictably, stuffed with junque. Still, while mining the hills and sifting the sands I managed to find some gold in them there hills.

You may recall my obsession with trunks, and especially with all things Sarreid. Well, this guy may not be a Sarreid, but he's still damn handsome. I think he's going to make the perfect end table, and toy storage is always a bonus.

The booth that housed this beauty also held a number of other curiosities. I kind of wish I had bought this stainless footlocker, too.

Another trip may be in order? Who's in?

And now I have to figure out how to unload my score from the front seat of the car, where it is wedged in tighter than Kim Kardashian's booty in... well, anything.

Put Some Junk in That Trunk

A couple of weeks ago I was doing the thrift circuit and in some cosmic event, each store had the same vintage wicker trunk with brass hardware. In another cosmic event, I restrained myself from buying each and every one. One was too dirty, one was too expensive, and by the time I came across the last one, I had convinced myself wicker trunks grow on trees. Later that day I happened upon this photo and finally all the planets aligned just to blow my mind...

Lazaro Rosa Violan

Eclipse! Solar flares! Other stuff I should remember because I took astronomy in college! Whatever. I had a plan, and it involved copious amounts of spray paint and those damn trunks.

Those damn trunks were gone. Turns out they don't really grow on trees.

Because I always want what I can't have, I have now developed a mild obsession with trunks. Ok, let me level with you: I MUST HAVE ONE.

Katarina Malmstrom Brown via Desire to Inspire

Suzy Hoodless

Misplaced the source... bad blogger.

Nuevo Estilo

Guess what? None of these are as good as the pair of shiny BRASS trunks Karly is currently using for her nightstands.

I am hoping she'll be so knackered from baby tending that she won't notice me tip toeing around in the dark with a black ski mask on...

I was also watching a brass Sarreid chest on ebay, but homeboy went for $635!!! Do people think I am made of money?

And don't even get me started about the Restoration Hardware trunks... when I looked at the prices (even on sale), I nearly spit out my precious coffee.

So, long story short: I really should have bought those stupid wicker trunks at the thrift store. Now I am going to have to wait for the next planetary event, which will probably occur approximately 5,692 years from now, and by that time the trunks will be used to hold my ashes.

Dumb dumb dumb.

I Call Dibs!

I have a confession to make... last night I started working on a totally different post but got a tiny bit sidetracked by 1stDibs, and after ogling 29 pages (no hyperbole necessary) of end tables, somewhere around midnight my glassy bloodshot eyes and I realized that a state of feverish, red alert addiction had come upon us me. Great, like I don't have enough vices already (I'm talking to you, Craigslist!). Well, now I am also hooked on insanely expensive, completely unattainable vintage furniture. But, wait... just a little taste won't hurt, right?

(All photos in today's post are courtesy of 1stDibs)

What's that? You didn't realize until this very moment that you want some Moroccan spice in your life and Harvey Probber is just the man to give it to you? That trapezoids are FRESH and AWESWOME! That a gorgeously patinated two-tiered brass table by LaVerne is what you've been yearning for? That you NEED those 30's goatskin concave tables, because they are JUST like the ones Karl Lagerfeld used to decorate his apartment???

Yeah, I told you so. Oh, but people, this is just the teeny tip of the iceberg. Read on.

How about some wee triangles for a scaled down space, or some snaky black 70's resin for a little disco decadence? Maybe parchment and wrought iron gets you off, and you know you feel an urgent need to get a little French Maison Bagues Foux da fa fa, don't you?

YES! YES! YES!!!

Uh, excuse me. Moving on. Yes, there's still more, because 1stDibs defies all expectations. I swear even Target has fewer items for sale -- it just keeps going and going, page after glorious page, and once you start looking, you can't just stop. Friends, no one likes a quitter. It was exceedingly difficult to whittle down all of their amazing end tables to just a handful of personal favorites, but for you I set my teeth and did the deed.

Ok, so that's an handful... there's still another hand left, but what do you think? Those are some sexy red industrial tables, aren't they? What about the very urbane Milo Baughman zig zag tables? Or who knew that yellow lacquer could make such a statement? (I am stealing that idea, for sure!) And does the $6,800 price tag on that pair of brass wedge-shaped Tommi Parzinger tables make me want them even more?

I think it does. I feel so dirty, but I can't stop now.

Hey there, hot little red drum tables with brass bottoms! That orangey red is my color crush of the moment... it really does go with everything. And those white tulip/box tables designed by architect Paul Williams are from Beverly Hills circa 1950 -- so glam, but not fussy. No fussy for me. Chesty end tables are always a practical option for all the junk you can put in the trunk, but both of those pairs get a shot of major moxie from their shiny surfaces. The vintage Sarreid brass pieces are among my most drooled over furniture finds; I just love brass studs!

Ok, two more favorite favorites... can you see how this has become a problem for me?

So, yes, those are two big golden balls, but they are SPECTACULAR! I just know DH can duplicate them for me with his new manly table saw...

Ok, this is my other top choice. What do you think??? Half as sexy but twice as chic? I think a little industrial edge would go a long way towards alleviating the bad case of Grandma Regency I've contracted through excessive thrift store shopping. Actually, it might take more than just an end table or two to counteract GR's ill effects...

If you need me tonight, you know where I'll be.