Not cavalier, just comfortable

When you sell vintage pieces for a living, you see a lot of beautiful things, even though some aren't so beautiful when you find them. You haul them back and forth between the refinisher's and the upholsterer's shops, lug them up and down stairs and into trucks and trailers. You sit on the chairs and sofas, you eat hamburgers at the tables, and your kids play hide-and-seek behind the stacks of inventory in your storeroom. You become familiar with them...and while familiarity doesn't breed contempt in this case, as the old saying goes, it does affect your attitude toward them.

First, there was the Lou Hodges table that my SIL almost put at the curb. Seriously, moving can make even the most dedicated vintage furniture lover crazy tired. Fortunately, he got a good night's sleep before he tossed the piece and eventually partnered with Gerard O'Brien at Reform Gallery in Los Angeles to sell it.

Lou Hodges table, almost tossed

Then there was the Richard Galef trash can (like this one I found on Etsy) that was used for dirty diapers when both the grandsons were babies. I'm sure there are lots of people who would treat a designer piece with a little more respect than that. (Although, in defense of my daughter and SIL, I will say that it took us a long time to identify it as a Galef piece. She got it at an estate sale for $1.00.)

Richard Galef trash can for Ravenware
etsy.com - OrbitingDebris

And, finally, there is the Planner Group coffee table by Paul McCobb that sits, as we speak, in my daughter and SIL's living room. I'll post a picture of one I found on Gerard's site, because the one we all use on a daily basis is so covered with mail and toys that you can't even see the top of it. We sit on it, eat on it, spill on it, play with toy trucks on it, stand on it and generally treat it as if it's indestructible, which it's proved to be so far.

Planner Group coffee table by Paul McCobb
reformgallery.1stdibs.com

Does this make us jaded? Unappreciative? Cavalier? I don't think so. These are tools of our trade, just as wrenches and hammers are the tools of other trades. Once they're fully restored and in our store, we handle them very carefully, so they'll be as perfect as possible when customers take them home. When they're in our own homes, we don't abuse them...but we do use them, just as people have been using them for the past 60-some-odd years. We figure if they've held up that long, they'll hold up for a good while longer.

The moral of this story: When you find a piece you just can't live without, buy it. Enjoy it. And don't be afraid to really live with it.

Option #4

Those of you who have been reading my blog for a long time may remember the Lou Hodges table that almost got kicked to the curb in June of 2011.

We had only been in business for three months, my daughter and SIL had just sold their home, and they were in the process of moving (with a 21-month-old and a 6-month-old) into the back of the old store. 

At the height of their mover's fatigue, the table that had looked like such a great find at the Salvation Army store was starting to look like a liability. As they saw it, they only had three options: 1) have the table professionally restored, which was almost out of the question for the fledgling store, which was still in "wipe a little Restor-A-Finish on it" mode 2) sell it "as is" on Craigslist or 3) literally leave it on the curb for trash pick-up.

Fortunately, my SIL got a good night's sleep and decided that there might be a fourth option. He contacted a well-known dealer on the West Coast, who agreed to take the table on consignment. As is sometimes the case in this business, the dealer had an abundance of his own pieces to sell, so he just recently listed it, but it will have been well worth the wait when the table sells.

Handcrafted Lou Hodges dining table for California Design
1stdibs.com

Our almost-discarded walnut and oak Lou Hodges table
displayed with felted folding chairs by artist Tanya Aguiñiga
1stdibs.com

Update: Lou Hodges gets a reprieve

I just talked to my SIL, and the Lou Hodges table is sitting safely in storage. I asked if he saw my post, and he said he did. He also said, "You didn't really think I was gonna get rid of it, did you?"

See? I told you it was mover's fatigue talking. Whew!

The great debate

Several months ago, about the time we opened the store, my SIL and I hit one of the several Salvation Army stores in town. I was sitting in the truck with the boys, and he came out and said, "You've got to go inside and look at a table I found. I'm pretty sure it's something good."

You know that feeling you get when you don't really know what something is...but a little voice tells you it has to be a designer piece? Well, that was his gut instinct, and he was right.

He had found a Lou Hodges table that was signed and dated, along with four MCM chairs that didn't really look like they matched the table. Some quick research confirmed our suspicions that the chairs had formerly gone with some other set, so we paired them with a mid-century table we had picked up at auction for a song and sold them as a set for a tidy profit. The orphan Lou Hodges table has been sitting in their garage ever since.

It's a massive butcher block table from the mid-1980s that is of a little later era than we usually sell in the store. Also, after the initial "rush of the find" wore off, we realized that it's in a little worse shape than we originally thought.

Now that it's time to move the last of their belongings from their sold home, my SIL is having a raging debate in his head. Move the Lou Hodges table to Dallas and pay someone to repair a crack in the top, try to sell it on Craigslist "as is" to someone who will love and restore it...or haul it to the curb and wave goodbye to it as they leave?

I think the final option was mover's fatigue talking. After all, this wasn't a mass-produced piece. It was a fine table that was crafted by hand, and it deserves more respect than that.

Lou Hodges table