I’m like Liberace… but with more flair.
When you SEE what I just got on Craigslist?
You will fall over.
But first, you need the prequel— about my antique mirror fetish… So you can understand how on top of the Victorian wardrobe, this year is ushering in an entirely new and stratospherically-superior level of craigslist treasures.
When we moved here, I somehow started collecting antique mirrors.
REALLY GIANT, gilded Victorian mirrors… the bigger, the fancier, the more ornate, the better.
I don’t know how it happened—at first, I assumed it was luck… But eventually, I realized that the universe just loves me more than it loves other people.
So far I have four: two pier mirrors, and two mantel mirrors.
Paul thinks that is enough. I think it is not.
He does not understand that when you COLLECT something, you can KEEP getting it. That’s how collections work—you ADD to them.
Paul says I cannot collect something that requires a UHaul and four strong men.
But once again, he has been proven wrong.
The taller pier mirror used to be in the corner of the living room. Until the wardrobe moved in.
When we were bringing the cabinet pieces in, Paul said—where do you want to put the mirror? And I was like, I don’t know… let’s move it around and see where it looks best!!
Paul said—how about you just pick a spot?
I was like, fine, whatever… we can put it over there with the other one. I’ll figure it out later.
It took me about a day to realize that I would prefer to see NO walls in this house.
None.
I would like ONLY to see giant, fancy, shiny things.
Which may actually be what the universe has planned for me.
The mantel mirror in the foyer was the first… it’s the only one that still has the original gilding. The others have all been painted various shades of radiator paint.
I saw it on craigslist shortly after we moved in… It would be impossible for me to overstate either my enthusiasm OR the way I had to set myself on fire to convince Paul that I would not take no for an answer.
It was February, we’d been here five months… my proposition that we go out in the bitter cold to transport a six-foot by six-foot mirror to the garage… where it would sit for YEARS until we finished the foyer… did not appeal to Paul.
You can see how that worked out for him.
Five months here, had been long enough for both of us to fully grasp what we’d signed up for.
For me, it was the physical recognition—the actual scope of the project… having my enthusiasm for the fancy front-door hinges, replaced by the reality of slogging through plaster and lath.
Also, the very disappointing realization that magic would not be involved.
For Paul, it was the realization that renovating a house with his wife was a totally different situation than renovating a house by himself.
One might wonder how either of us could have thought otherwise.
Five months was also long enough to discover that snow, at a certain angle, drifted INTO the house… And that if you stood in the stairwell of the third-floor landing, you could feel the heat RUSHING by you… like a wind-tunnel. Hurrying out the roof, the windows, the walls, the holes… like the entire house was just a colander masquerading as livable space.
Paul’s solution to the snow, the leaks, and the futile task of essentially heating the outdoors… was to work on it all the time.
ALL the time.
If he could have done it twenty-four hours a day, he would have.
If he could have given up eating and sleeping, he would have gladly traded it for more time to gut, and demolish, and move ladders, and insulate, and make lists, and draw diagrams.
Surprisingly, this did not make him cranky. What DID make him cranky was being interrupted. In any way.
In ANY way.
Having his shrine-to-progress disrupted is the single greatest thing that makes him insane.
And I was coming in, and tromping around, and picking up all the deities… Saying things like— let’s rearrange them! This one looks lonely! Let’s get them all together and have a tea-party!
Maybe we should do it this way!
Maybe we should do it that way!
Why don’t we do this?
Why don’t we do that?
Maybe we should move the stairwell?
Do we actually need this wall?
My learning curve made us both crazy… Also, my inability to simply accept reality and move on.
This house was the very first construction project I had ever experienced.
I had no idea of timeframes or schedules.
Or compromise.
Or that your house’s plumbing runs IN THE WALLS.
Which is totally disgusting and I have NO IDEA why the people at that brainstorming session were like—OK! Solved! We’ll go with THAT idea.
I guess theoretically, this is obvious. But to me, I had never, ever, ever, given it any thought. Until we opened up a wall, and I was like—what’s this?
And Paul said— it’s the sewage pipe.
And I was like—OH MY GOD.
Who would do such a thing?
We have to move.
This mirror illustrated every single way that me and Paul’s approach to this house was diametrically opposite.
Paul bought the house to fix it.
I bought the house to hang shiny stuff on the walls… To collect and store unwieldy, billboard-sized, useless objects in the garage; until an undetermined time in the future, when we might have time and space to put them somewhere.
Regardless of whether it snowed INSIDE.
Regardless of whether the project list was forty-thousand pages long.
Regardless of whether some of our windows were manufactured out of cardboard and saranwrap.
Those details are nothing in the face of destiny.
Why Paul wanted to ruin my destiny, I cannot say.
I CAN say that it made me mad.
Mad. Mad. Mad.
Not mad he couldn’t see the necessity… but that he would not TAKE MY WORD FOR IT.
If I tell you: this is my destiny.
Full stop.
And you say: oh well.
Where am I supposed to go from there?
Especially since it was $150.00.
ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY AMERICAN DOLLARS.
That’s practically free.
They are essentially GIVING AWAY my destiny on a street corner, and you’re going to let some homeless dude put it in his shopping cart and wheel it away.
I don’t think so.
Have you forgotten? That day you put your tuxedo on? And I wore a white dress? And you promised to LOVE AND CHERISH me?
Do you remember?
Because TODAY IS THE DAY for that.
Melissa from the Blue House
June 11, 2013 @ 12:09 pm
Oh my gosh, this cracked me up because it SO reminds me of my remodeling adventure with my own husband. He’s all worried about that boring stuff like sewer pipes (pshaw…) and DOES NOT GET why we need ONE MORE MIRROR!
I have an antique mirror collection too, but I like the 1930s-ish art deco ones. 🙂 One day I’ll post a picture…
My own brutal truth about remodeling:
http://www.thebluehouseblog.com/2013/05/day-three-brutal-truth-about-remodeling.html
Victoria Elizabeth Barnes
June 11, 2013 @ 6:07 pm
Why don’t they “get” that the sparkly stuff is what it’s ALL about? Also? I think carpet on your front lawn is fine… however, if your neighbors do such a thing, it’s a total violation.
Melissa from the Blue House
June 11, 2013 @ 7:52 pm
Oh you are SO right. One of my neighbors throws carpet on the roof and/or yard? I’m the first one on the phone with the city. Ain’t trying to live like that.
When it’s THEIRS, you know.
Sue
June 11, 2013 @ 12:19 pm
Large golden gilded mirrors and marriage go together like a horse and carriage which I fully expect to see you two riding in someday. $150 steal! Thanks for the inspiration to hand two big boys next to each other…are you listening House Beautiful?
Victoria Elizabeth Barnes
June 11, 2013 @ 6:08 pm
LOL!! That’s my tweet for tomorrow!!
p.s.– WHERE is House Beautiful? I’m tired of waiting!!
Garden, Home and Party
June 11, 2013 @ 12:20 pm
Victoria,
I love the mirror(s)! I can see them working beautifully in your house. In fact that is exactly what an 1890 Victorian deserves and needs. Clearly, Paul is coming around since he’s willing to fetch and haul these treasures and then install them so that they don’t fall off the wall. Sounds like a match made in heaven to me.
Could you please come to California and search my Craigslist for me? I’m convinced you are the craigslist whisperer.
Karen
Victoria Elizabeth Barnes
June 11, 2013 @ 6:11 pm
WAIT until you see next week’s post. What I got? Is. Crazy… It definitely helps to live in an area where there IS stuff like this… Philadelphia is full of old houses that are turned into student apartments… or just bought by people who are insane. Why else would they get rid of this?
Danielle
June 11, 2013 @ 12:23 pm
There is something so magical knowing that you have an antique mirror collection. Of course, you do! It suits you. Shiny – check. Stunningly Victorian – check. Totally works in your home – check! That last one isn’t true for every space, but you guys nail it. (That pun was for Paul. I’m a giver like that.)
PS. You haven’t said… are you watching Downton Abbey yet? It’s just so gorgeous! I could watch that show with the sound off.
Victoria Elizabeth Barnes
June 11, 2013 @ 6:13 pm
We polished off all Downton Abbey in like three hours. We both loved it. In my next life I hope to be Maggie Smith. And to live in a castle.
Alex
June 11, 2013 @ 12:30 pm
Great. Now every time I leave a thrift store I am going to have to go and hunt down one for you by default. Don’t ask me how I am going to ship it over the border mind you…
Victoria Elizabeth Barnes
June 11, 2013 @ 6:18 pm
We could start that company… giant stuff, moved for really expensive prices. It would be good to go with our tall-rain-boot endeavor.
Sara
June 11, 2013 @ 12:36 pm
Love, love, love, love this!!
“And I was like— OH MY GOD. Who would do such a thing? We have to move.”
You’re hysterical. Does Paul laugh when he reads your blog posts too? 😉
Victoria Elizabeth Barnes
June 11, 2013 @ 6:23 pm
Paul says that it was so funny the first time around, he has no laughter left. (With all sarcasm possible.)
mrscarmichael
June 11, 2013 @ 12:44 pm
Don has told me I can only buy modernist mirrors from here on in so am on the scavenge for Mies van der Rohe discards. Think Palm Springs is calling next time Mr Draper enjoys a lost weekend there.
Victoria Elizabeth Barnes
June 11, 2013 @ 6:26 pm
You’ve had Don to yourself, ALL season… but come the finale? He’s mine. I will be holed up with him for DAYS.
I LITERALLY CANNOT WAIT.
Julie
June 11, 2013 @ 1:01 pm
I love the mirrors – they are gorgeous. I have recently been turned on to blinging out some old furniture. I discovered metallic paint and now I can’t stop thinking of what I can paint with it to make stuff look more fancy-schmancy.
Another hilarious post – loved it!
Victoria Elizabeth Barnes
June 12, 2013 @ 4:12 pm
I tried to buy bulk mirrors– like what they make disco balls out of. It was only $500 for like 200 pounds.
Like you– I imagined the possibilites were endless. Fancy-schmancy indeed.
Paul said it seemed unnecessary. And I didn’t know where I could hide 200 pounds of mirror pieces.
Becky
June 11, 2013 @ 1:03 pm
I read your blog because your home is gorgeous and because of your iron will to make it so. 🙂 Those mirrors! Divine. And – just my unsolicited opinion – in the very first picture, if you were to paint your plants’ pots gold, that would kick that corner into Divine Diva Status! Just a thought. Love your blog!
Victoria Elizabeth Barnes
June 12, 2013 @ 4:13 pm
A- I love you.
B- You are a genius.
Those plants are about to get way fancier. (Or tackier, if I go overboard.)
Becky
June 13, 2013 @ 10:51 am
YES! Can’t wait – a tutorial perhaps?
Victoria Elizabeth Barnes
June 14, 2013 @ 10:58 am
Paint gold… roll in glitter… add rhinestones.
Awesomest tutorial ever.
Laurel
June 11, 2013 @ 1:51 pm
BRB, emailing this post to my husband so he understands that my predilection towards finding absurd brass bowls and wall hangings at goodwill and craigslist is much easier on him than gilded mirrors weighing as much as my car. I am easy by comparison.
Victoria Elizabeth Barnes
June 12, 2013 @ 4:15 pm
Wait until he sees what I just acquired. You will look like Mother Teresa.
I do this as a service to all other women, FYI.
Kristen Campbell
June 11, 2013 @ 1:51 pm
I literally laughed out loud multiple times during this post. I believe your husband and mine should start their own blog…perhaps it will make them feel better about their predicaments 🙂 And, on the mirrors, **LOVE**
Victoria Elizabeth Barnes
June 12, 2013 @ 4:16 pm
Paul does sometimes threaten to start his own blog… I said– good! I could use the referral traffic. 🙂
Laurel
June 11, 2013 @ 1:53 pm
By the way. Those things are awesome, I envy you both for the mirrors, and for your ability to convince your husband that helping you move such things is in his best interest.
Victoria Elizabeth Barnes
June 12, 2013 @ 4:18 pm
I wish I could say it was my sweet personality that persuades him. Rather than fear.
Jessica@CapeofDreams
June 11, 2013 @ 4:06 pm
Oh my god, I am glad someone else shares my obsession with mirrors. It makes me feel like less of a freak. What else can you hang on the wall that makes a room look bigger and more full of beauty and light. Nothing. That is why mirrors rock.
http://capeofdreams.wordpress.com/2012/08/29/mirror-mirror-on-the-wall/
Victoria Elizabeth Barnes
June 12, 2013 @ 4:21 pm
Hey… you weren’t kidding! You DO share my obsession! And yes– NOTHING doubles the light/windows/space the same way!
tammigirl
June 11, 2013 @ 4:18 pm
I think my poor, sweet, unsuspecting husband thought the fact that we built a brand new house and made all the selections would mean it was not a fixer-upper. Oh, how the mighty have fallen. Project, project, who wants to do a project? Not him, that’s for sure. Lucky for him I deal with all of it. I enlist the kids or my mother if necessary. Sometimes I even enlist the help of whatever neighbors I can find outside. (Hey, who doesn’t?) But the thing is, I never expect him to do the lifting, cutting, nailing, painting, swearing, making bargains with God, pushing, ripping out, ripping apart, sanding or caulking. All he has to do is go with me on Craigslist trips so I don’t get killed alone. And really, that’s not asking much at all.
Victoria Elizabeth Barnes
June 12, 2013 @ 4:37 pm
If I did all the projects? There would be NO LIMIT to the CL stuff I would bring home!! If Paul protested– I would be like, NICE TRY. 🙂
I’m not even sure he’s appropriately concerned that I not be ax murdered when going to look at potential treasures!
Mandy
June 11, 2013 @ 6:03 pm
I love these so much I wanna die!! I love love love old mirrors and am so extremely jealous of your gorgeous collection. $150 IS free! Well done.
A reflection always looks better surrounded by gold. *sigh* beautiful. 🙂
Victoria Elizabeth Barnes
June 12, 2013 @ 4:38 pm
A reflection always looks better surrounded by gold. — Stealing this quote!!
I knew you would appreciate them!
Sandi
June 11, 2013 @ 6:07 pm
You and your spouse crack me up. I want to just watch you from the staircase and flash scorecards maybe.
Thank you for sharing your SHINY STUFF. 🙂
Victoria Elizabeth Barnes
June 12, 2013 @ 4:51 pm
Perfect ten for me, every time. Paul too, if he manages not to kill me. 🙂
AnnetM
June 11, 2013 @ 7:26 pm
I’ve missed you. Why did you wait so long to make me laugh all over again?!
Victoria Elizabeth Barnes
June 12, 2013 @ 4:52 pm
ARG! I thought about writing a post about how tired and busy I was… and how real life thinks I have other things to do… but it sounded whiny.
Also, mirrors are just more interesting.
Jocelyn
June 11, 2013 @ 8:19 pm
Fancy!
Funny!
I can only imagine how heavy those mirrors are… you seem like the kind of people who, collectively, know how to hang them properly… 🙂
Victoria Elizabeth Barnes
June 12, 2013 @ 4:54 pm
Dirty looks… and saying — NOT LIKE THAT… repeatedly.
Two key factors in the safe transport and hanging.
Clare
June 11, 2013 @ 10:16 pm
I’m glad to see you back posting. Your home is so lovely!
Victoria Elizabeth Barnes
June 14, 2013 @ 10:59 am
The world seems to think I should do other things than just post to this blog… it’s some kind of glitch with the universe I’m trying to sort out.
Like dealing with the cable company or insurance… a frustrating bureaucracy.
the misfit
June 12, 2013 @ 3:11 pm
See, I actually want my husband to focus on the icky, glamor-less, practical stuff. That would free up my time and energy for finding the perfect curtains and hanging wallpaper and stenciling things. (And scouring craigslist.) It’s not that he doesn’t do any work – far from it – but his attention (even to enormous, life-sucking projects) is laser-focused when they are in disaster mode, and vanished three seconds later into Facebook and the NFL draft coverage on the internet and the history of Middle Eastern nation-states and a whole lot of other things that are clearly a COMPLETE WASTE OF TIME. Whereas I have maybe a quarter-strength version of Paul’s focus: I shall address the Herculean task, and I shall not rest until I have conquered it or I am dead. My track record is unbelievably good (at least, unbelievable if you know me and how pathetic my resources for this sort of thing must be), but I really only LOVE the shiny things. I worked myself into near collapse (not an exaggeration) over my kitchen floor, but I had a clear vision of a stunning antique floor at the end of it. I have NO SUCH LOVE for fixing the water problem in the basement. I want my DH to take that problem on and make it his own. If he does that, I will built a double gate for the back yard, dig and line a brick fire pit, waterproof a pair of wooden tables so we can use them for barbeques outside, re-lay all the pavers in the side yard, rebuild the collapsed grape arbor, build a new threshold for the porch, and dozens of other things – all during the summer I have supposedly taken off from home projects. But if I have to waterproof the basement, then all the pretties will have to take a back seat and there will be ENDLESS SADNESS.
Although getting the husband to insulate the house AND transport the pier mirror would obviously be the best of both worlds. (You are a very lucky lady.)
Victoria Elizabeth Barnes
June 14, 2013 @ 11:08 am
I don’t know why some tasks are just obviously a total waste of time. I further don’t know why those are the tasks that might actually improve your life at some point in the future—like, say, when your basement DOESN’T flood.