Wednesday, March 4, 2009

My Fate is a Chair

Just in case you don't believe in fate, let me tell you a little story.

About five years ago SeaBass (the fiance) and I walked into a consignment shop in our then home of Halifax, we wandered around a bit and in a back room I was confronted with a surprise. There sat a chair that only a month before I had seen on an HGTV makeover show. When I saw this show I fell in love with this chair immediately and I was shocked and disturbed, and completely disgusted with the show's designer, when they got rid of said chair for the room makeover. Well, it seemed to be fate that the exact chair (or a shockingly similar replica) was now staring at me from the back corner of a second hand store in downtown Halifax.

The chair of fate became one of the first presents my dearest SeaBass gifted me with. And here it is today. We never got around to recovering it, mostly because I can't make up my mind to anything and also, we haven't yet settled into our house o' dreams and I don't want to make a decision regarding
the chair that I will regret.

So, in the years since the arrival of
the chair I have searched the net, antique shops and magazines for similar pieces of furniture. I have spent countless hours scanning websites for information on the origins of the chair. Only once have I seen a chair like it, it was a proud moment when I spied my chair on the cover of a home design magazine all prettied up, re-covered and sanded to perfection. I showed that cover to everyone who had ever deigned to question the beauty of the chair.

Here it is, my chair of fate.

Now, more evidence for the existence of fate.

This past weekend I was out running errands when I noticed that one of my favourite antique shops was open, I haven't noticed the store open all winter - things get very slow around here for my beloved antiquers (?) in the cold dreary months. I knew I shouldn't be stopping, no money to spend and really more importantly for a shopaholic such as myself, no more room for my spur of the moment, must have purchases. But not surprisingly it was out of my control, the car just seemed to drive itself into the parking lot. I am so weak, so very, very weak.

Anyhoo, I was quite pleased with myself that I had made it all the way through the main floor of the shop without feeling drawn to a particular object but then I went up the stairs. I am still absolutely shocked that I did not fall directly back down those stairs when I peered over the banister and saw...a pair to my chair!!!

I took a brief moment to grab the banister and catch my breath. Then I spied the price tag, $25!!!!! I closed my eyes, counted to five, opened them again and yelled for Lilli, my new favourite antique purveyor. Lilli came up the stairs and assured me that yes the chair was available for purchase and was indeed only $25. It turns out that Lilli's friend had been about to throw the chair out and Lillie rescued it (yet more evidence of the existence of fate!) Lilli of course, was able to see the beauty the chair was capable of in the right hands (my hands of course).

I proceeded to babble the entire story of the chair to Lilli, pulled my cellphone and started snapping pictures of the chair and within five minutes a sold sign was slapped on that chair and I was on the phone to SeaBass to tell him of the miracle of my trip to the antique shop.

Dearest fiance was less than impressed with the news that I had purchased yet another piece of furniture for which we have NO room. However, when he came with me the next day to pick up the chair and bring it to its rightful home he was forced to admit that it was pretty amazing that I happened upon this chair in a tiny, hardly ever open, antique shop in rural Ontario, after five years of looking for similar pieces elsewhere. He also admitted that I couldn't possibly have passed it up. Hooray for me! I love feeling vindicated.

Here is the chair now with it's rightful owner:

So, the moral of the story? Fate does exist. And in my case, fate is a chair. It is also a lovely fiance who adores me even though I can't stop coming home with things that we have no room for and...he shares my taste in furniture.

Look at them together. I am one happy girl!


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