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.
ALERT. ALERT. ALERT.
I swear to you—if you gave me the option of a Nobel Prize? Or this? I would take this.
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 lets 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 him 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 Brian, 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.
Incase 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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January 10, 2014 @ 10:31 pm
I just found you through Miss Mustard Seed, and I think that your Downton Abbey portal is the best find ever!!! I’m currently under a husband-requested CraigsList furniture buying ban. 🙂 Reading your posts, I feel like you could be my BFF- only you’re actually way funnier than I am! So glad to have found your blog!!!
February 19, 2014 @ 12:08 pm
Okay!!! I had to check, but didn’t I see this piece for sale on ebay???? In York, Pa? (I have actually been there!!! 40 years ago! Trapped in Houston now :-c !!) I am sorry it didn’t work out for you because it really is a magnificent piece!!! Thanks for being such a zany person…we need more of this in the world!!! E.
February 25, 2014 @ 12:06 pm
OK… I adore Paul. Just because he’s obviously crazy about you! And I wish you were my neighbor. You are so fun/funny/lovely!
April 24, 2014 @ 6:14 pm
I didn’t have time to read all of the comments, so someone may have already stated this. How wide is the top center piece? Because that is where I would cut it so I could get it in the kitchen. I figured you weren’t going to use the sink portion, (at least not in the kitchen!), so it would be okay if the middle was narrow…IF it is wide enough to lose 12 inches! While it looks amazing in your living room, it was SO made for your dream kitchen!
May 18, 2014 @ 11:52 pm
Hey! I loved to read it! You have a fun way of describing the adventure!! I’m from Brazil, and I’m definitely following your blog from now on! sadly we don’t have this very same culture of recycling in here, much less a craigslist that works… anyway that was really fun to read! congrats on your find!
June 28, 2014 @ 3:11 pm
I looooooved reading this article. It was soooo funny.. my husband had to pause his favorite race and ask what I was laughing about so loudly? I read parts to him and he ‘got it’. I would totally be you in this situation. Love to find great deals and steals. When we lived in town, it was at the malls. Now we live in the mountains. . . so I resort to Craigslist, yard sales etc. I loved your brother’s Narnia response too. Thanks for the humor.
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January 6, 2015 @ 8:44 pm
That is beautiful.
You are hilarious.
Craigslist was made for you.
Paul is a saint!
Keep it up!
Hugs, Di
March 10, 2015 @ 1:41 pm
Victoria-
I just had to re-read this post because I remembered a) it made me laugh. Out loud. and b) you are I are just such kindred spirits and every time I read your writing, I have to remind myself that you’re not writing about me and MY husband, because we operate in EXACTLY the same way. I am the finder of SHINY, FANCY, and he is the man with the bucket of screwdrivers shaking his head from side to side and reminding me (WITH HIS EYES ONLY) that this is yet, another bad idea. Just replace Victorian with Mid Century Modern and it’s basically an identical existence. Also? I need you to know that “Kingdom Mirror” has made it into our vocabulary as the catch-all phrase that sums up my fool’s errands for shiny things. It goes this like this:
Me: OMIGOD! I found this thing on Craigslist! The guy is asking, like, way too little for it. It’s all the way down in ____ (insert far away place I have never heard of here). We have to get there before anyone else does! Can we get it? Can we get it?
Husband: Where are we gonna put it?
Me: WHAT DOES IT MATTER? It only costs _____ (absurdly low number in relationship to value of shiny thing)! I’ll put it in the garage! For now! Until we can sell _____ (shiny thing I just bought last week). And then… y’know… we’ll move it upstairs!
Husband: (narrowing eyes) Is this a Kingdom Mirror?
Me: (sheepish, enthusiasm waning only a teency weency bit): Yes.
March 10, 2015 @ 3:54 pm
Lauren, you made me snort my tea. It was like you were a fly on the wall at my house. That is WORD FOR WORD what is said when I have a Craigslistgasm. Right down to my husband asking, “Is this a Kingdom Mirror?”
Victoria, I think it has officially entered the lexicon.
Really.
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April 22, 2015 @ 1:41 am
First of all…I don’t think you were nuts in wanting it or getting it! And I LOVE where you put it!! It’s perfect!! Makes it amazingly original and also purposeful. You done good, and I love your philosophy on why you had to get it, how you didn’t really feel awfully bad when your wonderful husband had to UN-install it from its original moorings, and your drive to get it NOW…put your shoes on and go go go!!! I’ve been like that myself!!
One time we had a three-piece lattice room divider, and after studying it for a week or so, I decided that 1/3 of it could go on its side, across a counter we had in an old mobile home to make a nice division between the dining room and the washer/dryer area. My husband had a fit! But, in the end, at my incessant insistance! he put it up and besides myself loving it, everyone else did too! Then when we moved to a much nicer place, we didn’t have a headboard. When I told my husband to put up that lattice piece that had been across the counter, and use it as a headboard, he had another fit!! (I remember it being a major fit!) But, in the end..up it went and it looked GREAT!! It’s so rewarding to be insightful and IMAGINATIVE! Victoria, you are becoming my kindred spirit!
Looking forward to all the posts I’ve missed (today is April 21, 2015).
Keep up the good work and your delightful way of describing it all!
June 18, 2015 @ 2:34 pm
You are def my soul sista! Hubby gave me a 50 mile radius after we drove 2 hrs to get leather sofa in my jeep.. Then haul it upstairs and thru narrow halls and THEN it don’t fit.. Hubby says did you measure? Me – well kinda but I couldn’t find your tape measure so I guesstamitaed.. So…
Long story short- we drove 2 hrs on freeway with couch tied to top of jeep- and everybody wizzing by AND taking photos!
Hey I did my part by finding a BARGAIN!
That 50 mile radius.. Lol
My husband aka as the enabler drove to Ga 2 days before Christmas to rescue another dog and then 2 yrs later drive to NY and back – because this dog LOOKED at me and then spent a small fortune to get her well..
I’m already scoping the country for my NEXT big find..
Luv ya girl!
August 31, 2015 @ 9:41 pm
This post made me laugh out loud with glee!!! I know the exact feeling and my husband knows the exact excitement that lies in my bones when I find “that one must have piece”!!! The last picture is my favorite and what an AMAZING place for it!! LOVE!!! Your one lucky lady to have a hubby that goes the extra mile without hesitation! And now you have the gates to Down Town Abby and Narnia to boot!! 😉
December 10, 2015 @ 1:33 am
I too think you shoul cut your inches out of the middle bit and make it fit the kitchen. But I guess you have got used to it where it us now!
January 18, 2016 @ 6:59 pm
We must be living parallel lives! My husband and I have found more treasure “off the beaten path” than you would believe, though most of our finds have been from eBay rather than Craigslist. Although, that is simply because Craigslist didn’t exist at the time when we collected most of our pieces. Come to think of it, we’ve been collecting long enough that the Internet hadn’t even been invented when we started assembling our random bits of flotsam and jetsam that adorn our home. I’ve been doing a blog about our restoration of an 1874 Victorian mansion in Southern Virginia at http://danvilleexperience.blogspot.com/. I loved the portals, the hard work, and the sense of fun that you bring to your experiences. Imagination, hard work, and humor will have you navigating life as a great adventure, no matter what the circumstances.
January 24, 2016 @ 7:45 pm
Hello! I found your website after my husband hoisted our new, huge and expensive mattress sets onto our newly acquired, antique four poster beds in the guest room. And we realized that the mattress sets covered up 3/4 of the headboards. And they began at 19 inches off the floor and ended at a height I was unable to reach without a stepstool. Then my husband laid down on one of them (he is a big guy….he was wondering how his even bigger BIL would like the bed when he came to visit) and all the L brackets on one side bent straight and, well, you can imagine. So I went to the Internet to find out WHAT was WRONG with us and why this kind of thing keeps happening, what we should have done, etc., etc. And then I found you! And I think that you and I were separated at birth! Thank you for letting me know that I am not alone and thanks so very much for staying focused on the humor and absurdity of it all!