My paramour. My inamorata. My one true love: Craigslist.
People say Craigslist is full of crap.
And? It is.
It’s totally full of junk and overpriced oak hutches from 1980.
However? Craigslist is also the source of all awesomeness. The hutches are just there to scare off the non-believers… To test your faith and weed out the heretics.
Craigslist is like an estate sale, an antique store, and trash night, all rolled into one and delivered to your house.
If you’re not monitoring Craigslist for your heart’s desire? You’re an idiot. And I LOVE that about you… because it leaves more for ME.
I have a siren in my head that reacts to anything old, broken, giant, gilded, Victorian, fancy, or generally too large to fit in my house… and when I saw this, it went crazy.
The text of the ad that’s cut off explains that the house is being renovated into apartments, (near one of Philadelphia’s university areas,) that the wardrobe is in excellent condition… and can be removed without damaging it.
It was Sunday morning, and the time-stamp on the Craigslist ad told me it had literally JUST posted. Clearly, a message from the universe.
I RAN downstairs. What Paul calls the Craigslist-charge. He claims that he can tell, by my footsteps, the degree to which his day has just been hijacked.
And I was like—WE HAVE TO GO GET THIS RIGHT NOW.
Paul said—are you… shaking?
And I was like, please. Stop speaking. Put your shoes on. Hurry.
If someone ELSE gets this I will NEVER get over it.
Paul said—Wait a minute. What is it?
And I was like—it’s the portal to Downton Abbey… It’s everything I ever wanted… it’s a MESSAGE from the UNIVERSE.
HURRY!!
Paul said—hang on… What are you planning to do with it?
And I was like— I’m going to… eh…. Uh? What?
Let’s take a sidebar here: What is THAT about?
YOU people know what I want to do with this. And you more or less JUST met me.
My husband, on the other hand, apparently doesn’t even live on my planet.
Did I not show him Pilar Guzman’s kitchen, seven hundred times? Do I strike you as the sort of person who would fail to communicate my heart’s desire?
So I was like—I’m going to put it in the kitchen.
K.i.t.c.h.e.n.
Let me speak SUPER slowly so you understand me.
KITCH-EN. Kitch…en. Kiiiiittttcccchhheeeennn.
The room with the stove?
And? Maybe you remember seeing my dream kitchen? SEVEN HUNDRED TIMES?
And maybe you can see that this is pretty much the universe manifesting what lives in my head?
In fact, it’s possible I AM CONTROLLING THE WORLD WITH MY MIND.
Apparently, Paul was not impressed with my world-bending mind tricks. Because he said— That is not going to fit in the kitchen. And I was like, oh really? How do you even know that?
He was like—sure, okay… so how tall is it? How long is it?
And I was like— I have no idea… it doesn’t say. But it doesn’t LOOK that big.
Paul was like, believe me. That is PLENTY big. The sink is maybe about three feet tall. And it’s about the same width, so let’s say it’s three feet wide… and in comparison, the side units are even wider, let’s say four feet each, so I’d say overall it’s between 11 and 12 feet long… which is too big for the kitchen.
What is with the savant-style measuring? That is beyond aggravating.
(For anyone who wants to keep score: the entire thing is 11′ 6″ long.)
It is good that I am so skilled at ignoring reality, in favor of what I want to believe… because if I weren’t, I would have to remember that Paul has never once been wrong about this kind of thing.
He had more questions too: How is it built into the wall? How does it come apart? What floor is it on? How will we get it out? WHERE are you going to put it?
I was like, do you not SEE what I am showing you?
Your questions are IRRELEVANT.
Did I somehow neglect to emphasize my wish for GIANT FANCY THINGS?
It doesn’t matter who, what, where, when, why.
If I keep it in the garage to store my gardening tools in, WHAT do you care?
Paul said– well, can you ask them how big it is?
And I was like, I’m sorry… but you KNOW I can’t do that. We can go there and LOOK at it, and then decide, but we have to GET there first.
Let me give you some advice about Craigslist. I’ve learned it the hard way: if you MUST have something… Do not make an offer, ask a question, or otherwise confuse the situation.
If you MUST have something, and that thing is a monster Victorian Eastlake wardrobe that every antique dealer and salvage company in Philadelphia will be after? Do not even ask how big it is.
If you want it no matter what? ALL you say is:
Hi,
I want that.
I can come anytime.
I can move it myself.
I don’t need your help.
Here is my phone number.
My social security number.
My bank account number.
To stand out from the 400 emails the seller is going to get, you have to be the one person who requires nothing. You have to be a beacon of simplicity and straightforwardness.
Now is the part where Paul says I MUST tell you how I misrepresented the ease with which this would be removed.
In my defense– the guy selling it TOLD me that he had his carpenter look at it. And the carpenter said— no problem. EASY.
All you need is a screwdriver.
Plus, I had backup… if you’ve been reading me for a while, you remember Bryan, our neighbor… the one who gave me the Asian dolls and used to be an antique dealer? Well, he and I have become friends… We are allies in the belief that opportunities like this are rare and must be seized.
He assured Paul that he had removed a couple of these when he was in business and that they really do come apart EASILY. That they are put together with dowels and some well-placed screws… It’s just a matter of figuring out which piece to start with.
Which, technically IS actually true.
So Paul just took a basic bucket of tools.
Basic. Not demolition.
We’d been there for about twenty minutes and Brian said— Wow! This is an unusual piece… I don’t know how they built this!! And the guy selling it said– yeah, I’m going to leave, call me if you figure it out…
Paul looked at me.
It was not the look of love.
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.
By that time, Paul was aggravated.
Which morphed into SUPER aggravated… when he finally figured out that the magic-keystone-starter-screw was on the BACK of the wardrobe.
The OUTSIDE of the back of the wardrobe.
Watching him realize that the back panel needed to come off first… AND that there was a WALL between him and that panel… and that all he had was a hammer and a flashlight…
I almost felt bad.
Almost.
But I am only the finder.
Paul is the getter.
I DID my part.
It turns out that Paul is like the James Bond of demolition.
James can blow up a car with a bottle cap and a pack of matches… But MY husband can take apart a wall with his bare hands and a hammer.
James? You have NOTHING on my husband.
Plus? James? You international man of mystery? My husband is totally more mysterious than you.
As we got further along, it became clear that the wardrobe was added after the house was built… it was brought in, in pieces, assembled, pushed against the existing wall, and then they built a false wall around it to make it appear built-in…
Paul is sure this was the wife’s idea… and that she and I would have gotten along just fine.
In case you’re thinking that Paul was getting some satisfaction from making progress… this photo should set you straight.
In fact, he may have used the phrase: fool’s errand.
This is hour three and a half…
By now it was COLD… The building is being renovated into apartments, and there was no heat.
Was anyone having a good time at this point?
Sure! I was!
Does this NOT look like a total party?
I tried to be helpful… and motivational… and point out the positives like how the wardrobe itself REALLY did come apart with JUST a screwdriver.
Also, I tried to tell Paul how MUCH I love him!!
How really, really, really, really, REALLY a LOT… I LOVE him.
Which I cannot say he appreciated…
Usually, if you tell your husband— I adore and worship you!! There is a base-level expectation of pleasantry in return… not the stone-faced response of—I will never ever, ever, ever do this again.
Which is a total lie!! We will DEFINITELY do this again.
We will do this as many times as Craigslist deems necessary.
Although, as it turns out… Paul was correct that it will not fit in the kitchen.
In fact, it nearly doesn’t fit in our house at all.
Literally—it barely clears the ceiling at the tallest fancy piece.
To repurpose it as kitchen cabinets, we would have to chop off six inches on both sides. And I don’t think I can do that. Even though it would solve all my kitchen problems. (Or create entirely new ones.) It’s too beautiful to destroy.
So it’s residing in our living room… the only room in the house with a wall long enough… we left out the center section to accommodate the window.
Does it make the room feel tiny? Yes.
Does it utterly destroy any kind of feng shui? Yes.
Did we have to remove 47 things that used to live in here? Yes.
Does it make ALL the other furniture the totally wrong choice? Yes.
Do we need a bigger house now? Clearly.
But it doesn’t matter. I LOVE it. If given the opportunity to get fifty more, I will.
When my baby brother Matt came over he was like— whoa… that’s… huge…
And I was like I KNOW.
He said– What is it?
And I told him– It’s the PORTAL TO DOWNTON ABBEY.
And he was like, one side, sure… but the other one definitely goes to Narnia.
SEE ALL MY BEST CRAIGSLIST FINDS!
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Antique Grand Piano Into Kitchen Island
April 9, 2013 @ 9:51 pm
Sorry I am (fashionably) late! I had to try on about 500 outfits before I found the right one to go with the right costume jewelry and cocktail rings I’ve been dying to wear. Anyway, umm… Oh. My Gawd. This is one of the most amazing things I’ve ever seen. I’m incredibly jealous of your Downton Abbey portal. Of the fancy pieces. And the sheer magnitude and splendor it exudes. It totally puts my favorite things to shame (i.e. books, art and owls). But I didn’t want to be a party pooper!
April 9, 2013 @ 9:52 pm
PS – I love the change you made to your header.
April 10, 2013 @ 5:58 pm
THANK you for noticing my header!! I’m totally bummed that only three people took note… it’s the little things! Like cocktail rings and shoes!!
April 9, 2013 @ 10:09 pm
Amazing find and amazing patience to get it back to your house. Have fun exploring Downton through your magic portal. 🙂
April 9, 2013 @ 10:14 pm
It is gorgeous, fantastic, fabulous! You must go into that room one hundred times a day just to look at it, touch it, maybe zone out and slip through the portals for an hour or two . But it’s becoming increasingly obvious that your most amazing find ever, hands down, without a doubt, is PAUL!!!
April 10, 2013 @ 6:01 pm
Sigh… SO true. Paul IS the best find. Also, I try to tell him that this is what the universe WANTED for him… otherwise it wouldn’t have paired us up!! He seems kind of skeptical on that, but I think it’s perfectly logical.
And yes, I totally just stand in front of it and chant—mine, mine, mine…
April 10, 2013 @ 12:03 am
I love Craigs list also but it is a dice throw on the deals. Some priced right, some too low, and some wayyyyy overpriced. You found yourself a beautiful piece. I really love it and darn that it did not fit in the kitchen. That would have been perfect but it also looks good where it is now. It does make an impact and I am all about impact. I have to say that it is a good thing you got the dolls from Brian before this trip or uhhhhh You might have been outta luck LOL. I know you are going to think this is weird BUT I am a treasure hunter and I was wondering did you explore that paper in the wall and make sure there was not a bunch of old penny stocks or old money tucked up in there? LOL
April 10, 2013 @ 6:07 pm
LOL… true, Brian got more than he bargained for on this trip. He did WANT to come with us… but that was before we knew it was going to be an expedition to new lands.
It did not even occur to us to even LOOK for anything… we should have, would have been a good hiding place. By the time we left, we were tired, and dirty, and really not thinking clearly!!!
April 10, 2013 @ 10:34 am
That is simply gorgeous…what an amazing find…very jealous!!
April 10, 2013 @ 6:07 pm
No doubt the height of my Craigslist career… cannot imagine I will ever top it!
April 10, 2013 @ 6:21 pm
OMG!! i’m late!!! i hope i havent missed the party. You see my sister is getting married and we have been SOOOOO busy…..crazy busy. Apologies!
This post is the BEST! my fav post of yours thus far. Free rock to good home has been a personal fav for a while, but this is GOLD. The writing, the content, the photos!! Hilarious and magnificent all at the same time!
You are so much like me with a find….there’s no time to waste, don’t ask questions, shut up and get in the car! 🙂
Your cupboard is beautiful. Even if it hasn’t ended up in the location you first pictures, it looks stunning in the lounge. I don’t think it’s too big at all. I think a room can have one oversized piece and still feel roomy as long as the other pieces in the room fit the scale of the room. Well done. I love it.
My fav finds looks insignificant in comparison 🙁 http://redagapeblog.com/2013/04/06/exciting-vintage-finds/
April 11, 2013 @ 1:01 pm
Are you saying a wedding is a more important party than this??? Have a WONDERFUL weekend!!!
April 10, 2013 @ 6:34 pm
” What is THAT about?
YOU people know what I want to do with this. And you more or less JUST met me.
My husband, on the other hand, apparently doesn’t even live on my planet.
Did I not show him Pilar Guzman’s kitchen, seven hundred times? Do I strike you as the sort of person who would fail to communicate my heart’s desire?”
–Same questions I keep asking myself! Of COURSE you will do it again! What a find! Obviously a dream come true!
Measure first? Make a budget? All these tedious obstacles in the way of a perfectly great “vision” all the time! It looks great where you have it (in fact, your home looks gorgeous). Now I hope Paul won’t be annoyed, but . . . can the kitchen ceiling be raised?
I don’t have a photo but how does a solid concrete garden table and pair of benches strike you for a Craigslist find? Not the most completely unusual treasure but a real husband challenge in terms of moving!
April 11, 2013 @ 1:05 pm
Anything that irritates the husbands is probably a good sign… right? I don’t know why it isn’t more OBVIOUS to him that this was NECESSARY. I mean, clearly I’ve never needed anything more!!!
April 10, 2013 @ 6:34 pm
Brilliant!
Just discovered you, via your comment regarding the gigantic mantel on AT, and am now stalking you here on your very own page… also enjoying your Pinterest page (that I finally caved and joined).
Your commentary is fabulous and hilarious. I am now very careful about drinking anything while reading… my keyboard is appreciative.
April 11, 2013 @ 2:09 pm
Your comment absolutely made my day!! Going in my “best of” folder that I refer to whenever I wonder why I spend all my free time on the internet…
If I could get another million stalkers, I could push Young House Love right out of the top spot!!
April 10, 2013 @ 7:49 pm
Your husband is much more patient than mine! Glad to know there is a gateway to Downton when I need it!
April 11, 2013 @ 2:10 pm
I’ve been wondering where it was for a while now, so I’m glad I found it!! I’m not sure patient is the right word… maybe long-suffering.
April 10, 2013 @ 9:05 pm
That was a fantastic post! I was reading on the train ride home from work laughing hysterically while getting dirty looks! I showed Sam as soon as I got home and he was like, “thats you, and me, bahhhh…. not so funny for Paul…. or me!” What an amazing find, your right, the rest doesn’t matter, it’s beautiful.
April 11, 2013 @ 2:12 pm
Laughing… I told Paul– hey! Everyone on the internet thinks you’re so great for getting this!!! He was like, good, next time they can be the ones to go with you.
April 11, 2013 @ 6:10 am
I had to share this post with my husband!! Just yesterday I was explaining to him that helping my 7 year old son with his holiday project was really frustrating because he is just too ambitious and has no sense of reality. My husband just looked at me. I think he thinks there is heredity involved here.
April 11, 2013 @ 2:23 pm
I wish “laugh out loud” wasn’t so overused, because I’m stuck thinking of something more creative here… I guess discarding reality isn’t ALWAYS bad. (Especially if you can force your husband to do most of the work.)
April 11, 2013 @ 6:36 am
Ha ha! Hilarious post. Portal to Downton Abbey – obviously. Or have you considered Dr Who’s TARDIS? I admire you for thinking big. Me, I work hard to focus on only modestly sized second-hand chairs and tables.
April 11, 2013 @ 3:18 pm
I’m not knocking the tables and chairs… we have our share of them too… our entire dining room is mix-and-match Craigslist! But yes, this is the find to rule them all…
April 11, 2013 @ 11:22 am
Eek! Love it. My sister has a similar built-in in her Philly rental–although it’s quite shabby compared to this beauty.
I keep stumbling across your site via my various, obsessive Google image-searches–and after reading this post, I’m going to find my way here on purpose from now on. Why is it that husbands never understand when something is absolutely perfect, no time to explain, MUST BE MINE RIGHT NOW??? I am actually on the hunt for one of those Craigslist “overpriced oak hutches from 1980” at the moment (except curvier, not oak, and NOT 80s . . . but the hutch part is right), and can’t even get my husband to commit to looking at one that lives 5 minutes from us and is within $20 of our price-range . . .
I showed him this post to say, “See! See what I could be asking you to do? I just want one lousy china cabinet to paint.” He said, “I’m sure it always starts with ‘one lousy china cabinet to paint.'” Maybe I need to aim higher and then “settle” for the china cabinet . . .
April 11, 2013 @ 5:48 pm
Yes!! You’re overlooking the convenient tool of bait and switch… only more like—horrify, then switch. Start showing him stuff in NYC and Lancaster… the stuff in Philly will magically become more appealing.
Or start talking about plans to make your own and make a shopping list for Home Depot…
April 11, 2013 @ 2:27 pm
This cracked me up so much that I made my husband read it. He cracked up as well of course. And then he said “I like Paul.”
April 14, 2013 @ 3:58 pm
Love the list and have even pointed out things on there that my other half should buy me for Christmas.
April 18, 2013 @ 5:38 pm
I am positive you can make this into your kitchen. You just need to mull it over for a week or two.
April 19, 2013 @ 9:30 am
At this point, it seems only a question of whether we cut it or not. My inner-hoarder REALLY doesn’t want to do that.
April 22, 2013 @ 8:39 pm
You are hilarious! I’m so ADD that I never finish reading a post this long, but I HAD to see what you did with this gorgeous piece!! You’re like my other sister…my twin and I have conversations like this all the time!
April 23, 2013 @ 5:02 pm
For some reason, I am utterly incapable of writing anything brief… In this case, I think we can agree it was especially unavoidable.
April 23, 2013 @ 2:31 pm
SHUT UP that thing is AMAZING. OMG! I want to stare at the picture of it in your living room for… like, an eternity. Yes. Screw the rest of the living room, that is a focal piece and you will work around it!!! 🙂
April 23, 2013 @ 5:11 pm
RIGHT??? Who needs feng shui??? Not me…
April 25, 2013 @ 9:21 am
Wow. That was just a fascinating saga – I couldn’t stop reading!
April 26, 2013 @ 11:47 am
I need a sequel… like souvenirs I brought home from Narnia.