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.
Lynne Rutter
June 12, 2013 @ 5:26 pm
I love these gilt mirrors and curse the distance between me and the mountain of affordable antique gilt mantel and pier mirrors that you clearly live right on top of. As a gilder may I please as that you please take my advice and get the professional help of a qualified experience gilder/restorer before doing anything to “touch up” or clean the gilt frames. You can learn to do this some of this work yourself by taking classes– and what better place to do that than in New Orleans at the Society of Gilders conference in October. Yes, we have a society, because we are gilding geeks and every old mirror frame is our long lost child.
Victoria Elizabeth Barnes
June 14, 2013 @ 11:25 am
I think my brain melted while reading your comment. I will now spend the next hour reading about that society.
Several people, including Brian (our antique-dealing neighbor) have made suggestions about making casts… and duplicating the missing pieces. And I saw a frame that Brian replaced a corner on and re-gilded (?) and you would NEVER know it wasn’t original. (well, maybe YOU would.)
This is probably horrifying to you… but for some reason, I have no interest in improving these. If I could afford to pay someone, by all means… but also, I love them just as they are, and I don’t think .02% more love is worth the effort to learn how to restore them myself.
Tara
January 21, 2014 @ 7:57 pm
I have recently acquired a beautiful gilded Victorian style mirror made in Philadelphia in 1941. It is in very good condition but does have a couple of spots that need touching up and a small inside trim section Is missing. I also live in Philly and have no idea if I should repair this or leave it as is. I have no idea of value and really just want to hang and enjoy it. I see that Victoria has painted some of her mirrors. Would you or Victoria be able to tell me who to contact about restoring it ?
Eadie
June 13, 2013 @ 11:22 am
OH, I’m so happy to have found you. Really enjoying your writing style, sense of humor, and great photos (of the house, and also the fabulous pics of you). Love your layout, too. Now I’m off to read about you, you, you in the ME, ME, ME section. Thank you so much for brightening my day. I will be reading your blog from now on….. xoxo
Victoria Elizabeth Barnes
June 14, 2013 @ 1:32 pm
Thank you, thank you, THANK you, for your comment! It totally made my day!!
So nice to “meet” you!
J-C
June 15, 2013 @ 11:12 am
Oh GOD those are f****** gorgeous! I’m super jealous! I actually adore antique mirrors, and I have several, but mostly smaller ones, and none that are this fancy. I find that they can look nice stacked against each other “layered” on a shelf or the top of a cabinet.
Victoria Elizabeth Barnes
June 16, 2013 @ 11:07 am
I KNOW, right?? Incidentally, on another topic– I am surprised I have gone an entire year of blogging without using the f-word. Some things are ONLY described via it, and lately I’ve been feeling like I need to break it out.
Robin~All Things Heart and Home
June 17, 2013 @ 1:10 pm
I totally understand your mirror-love! Tell Paul you in no way have enough mirrors!!!
And the post just made me giggle! Thank you xo
Robin
All Things Heart and Home
Alex
June 20, 2013 @ 4:43 pm
You have us all laughing on gardenweb, and practically intoxicated over potential finds! A few of us have found ourselves VE’d by craigslist in the last few days, including me! I found a rug that ignited my inner Jean Harlow and MUST come home with me. I priced getting it cleaned before calling the seller, I was so excited.
Victoria Elizabeth Barnes
June 29, 2013 @ 12:56 pm
Life has been nuts, and I am finally wading into my neglected comments. I cannot tell you how much I LOVE my name being synonymous with CL-hunting.
Made my day.
xo Victoria
Barb
June 25, 2013 @ 12:00 am
Hello Victoria! Glad that I found you on Romantic Homes web-FB site! Love, love your mirrors!!! When I went to England over Easter break in 2005 to visit my brother and his wife and family (they were stationed at RAF Molesworth, about 2 hours north of London for four years with an USAF/RAF posting), Linnea, my sister-in-law and I would go thriftshopping. I found two of my favorite mirrors while at a shop not far from their farm house, both of which flew home with me after 17 days across the Pond. 🙂
The mirror I missed that should have been mine was at an antique faire on a weekend, though… The one-that-got-away-and-was-snatched-up-by-that-snobby-man-who-didn’t-want-to-even-discuss-his-find was a lovely, carved marble with cherubs inside an oval top-piece over a mirror! It sold for 150 pounds… I went into a tent to the right first (after carting some things back to Linnea’s car) then went into the left tent. I ALMOST went into the left-hand tent, something told me to go there. I missed my one big destined mirror by less than five minutes… :(((
ThrashWaltz
June 25, 2013 @ 12:43 pm
Woman if you lived anywhere near me I have an antique mirror that I would legit give you for a steal. EG: I would let you steal it because A) it doesn’t go with my house at all and B) I am an enabler.
CateS
June 26, 2013 @ 10:40 am
Ok, so my mother’s parents had a lovely tall pier [?] mirror that ended up with my parents after the grands downsized in the 1960’s. It ended up on the front staircase landing in our 1800’s home. When Mom downsized from the 2 story with full basement [which was full of grandparents stuff] to her ranch over walkout basement in the late 1970’s, she planned for the mirror. Builder was amazed/appalled to have to plan on 12 foot ceiling height in front part of home for mirror. My sister now has it in Florida –
Sandi
June 28, 2013 @ 8:31 am
Loving your posts! I found you via facebook and have just read and drooled over your mirror posts! What beauty you have found…looking forward to seeing what else you unearth on Craigs list. 🙂
Blessings~
Xenia
June 28, 2013 @ 10:54 am
I absolutely LOVE this post. It was so funny and I enjoyed looking at the wonderful photos. Your husband is very lucky to have such a wife as you. Two things he can say for sure is that you will NEVER bore him and that you will always provide him with a BEAUTIFUL home.
Meridith
June 28, 2013 @ 4:46 pm
I just found your blog via Momastery and am howling with laughter at the way you write and also, how I can relate….we own an 1893 Queen Anne and oh, boy, where do I start? The way I am now trying to see cracks in the plaster as “interesting” textures as I find new ways to arrange framed art? No, how about the way our back deck stairs are rotting and I refuse to use them but somehow that’s not number 1, that’s number 23,309 on the list because who needs a back porch when it’s the size of a postage stamp anyway? Anyhow, looking forward to following your blog! 🙂
Maggie
June 28, 2013 @ 6:34 pm
A friend forwarded me your post about the ginormo mirror because they thought maybe I had a secret second life. HA! I laughed the whole way though the post because I think, at some point, I may have said and/or done everything in that post. I needed more! I read another. Ridiculously amazeballs wardrobe that can transport you to both Downton Abby AND Narnia! I was bouncing and squealing with excitement for you! Holy CRACK, it’s like I have a twin ….I haven’t stopped reading!
My friends tell me I have an illness…my addiction to finding magical things on Craiglist. HA! FOOLS! They just don’t understand……I am required to own these items. No final destination required. No actual NEED. Doesn’t have to serve a purpose. Just must be mine. Period. The end. And then…….we add sparkles! I emit sparkles…it’s true. I leave a trail of magical shininess in my wake.
I decided I had to share you with all. I posted your blog on The Facebook with this comment: ***Fair warning to all who know me… this is what you are getting into with me. ***
Thanks for taking the time to share with us, and may the magical Elders of Craigslist continue to bless you!
kelly@mysoulfulhome
June 28, 2013 @ 8:03 pm
I like you and your growing mirror collection!
Pj
June 28, 2013 @ 8:46 pm
I don’t recall having given birth to a child before I was married, but you may be my own flesh and blood. In 2009 my husband & I started restoring a 5400 sf Antebellum home (refer to FB page) where we plan to operate a B&B. He has learned to smile & help me drag home “finds”–including 2 cast iron mantels that match our home’s other 6 original mantels, which we drove a total of 5 hrs. to pick up. Also a few armoires, buffets, dining tables, mirrors, etc. etc. Also a nearly new tufted leather Chesterfield sofa/bed that nearly us loading & unloading in the truck. And an antique 4′ cast iron double basin sink I bought online & had shipped to a dock 50 miles from our home. Tomorrow marks a milestone anniversary, so if he has plans to kill me in my sleep he’s doing a pretty good job of acting like an adoring husband. He does as much as humanly possible to make my dreams become reality, & I’m happy to know that you found his clone for your own projects. I’m looking forward to reading more of your blog! 🙂
Pj
June 28, 2013 @ 8:48 pm
(sofa nearly “KILLED” us loading & unloading
Vivian Mandala
June 29, 2013 @ 6:33 am
Oh my god, I’m hiding in the kitchen, because it’s so early, only me and the baby are awake. I’m trying really hard not to laugh OUT LOUD *I have a really loud laugh* from your post.
When something is your destiny, it’s your destiny…you’re better off not denying it, just go for it, right?
Really enjoyed this and looking forward to stalking you all day.
Chervelle Camille
June 29, 2013 @ 1:38 pm
Okay, you are hilarious!! I want to keep you in my pocket and pull you out when I need a good laugh therapy. Your Craigslist aficionado is pure enlightenment. Thank you!
Victoria
June 30, 2013 @ 7:58 pm
Just thought I’d say how much I’ve enjoyed your posts -probably cause they remind me so much of myself. (I’m not excluding the idea that we are somehow distantly related or the exact same person residing in two bodies).
We bought our house cause I loved the stairs, so it seems fine to buy one for hinges. My husband would probably get along great with Paul, his one great frustration is me halting his progress, especially when I have no idea what exactly is involved in the task at hand.
Anyway, loved your posts that I’ve read so far. Your house looks absolutely amazing -it was clearly destiny to have all those treasures in that house together!
Can’t wait to read your other posts, although I fear reading this is only going to enable my love for antique treasures that won’t fit in my house.
(These are some of those posts that are particularly me….
“We walked in… and I was like OOOOOOOOOOh. Did you see the hinges? Paul? Did you see the hinges? Paul? Did you see the hinges?”
“It was the look that said—you have failed, on all fronts, to prepare me for this job, and I cannot believe I relied on you to accurately gauge the situation, and now I am in an unheated building with no tools or skilled assistants… I am surrounded by idiots.”
After an entire hour—all we had done was remove the doors.”
“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.”
“And I was like—look at me. Look me in the eye. Do you really believe I am leaving here without this? Because I’m not.”
Thank you for writing them )
Victoria
June 30, 2013 @ 8:00 pm
oh, and loved this …..
“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 can’t count how many times we’ve had that conversation!
Betsy
July 1, 2013 @ 5:34 am
Here I am….crying AGAIN!!!! laughing so hard….I have GOT to go to sleep! you are sooo funny….I love youir attitude…. “$150 ….practically FREE!!!!!! All or nothing and all FOR NOTHING is even better!
Betsy
Betsy
July 1, 2013 @ 5:35 am
Your attiude…..AND your mirrors, they are gorgeous…I’ll have to tell you about the mirror I hid in our closet for three months….shhhhhh!!!!….I didn’t want HIM to know about it!
Betsy