The Craigslist Dance

I am obsessed with very fond of Craigslist.

I check the site every day, making sure to hit three pages: Annapolis, Baltimore, and Washington, DC. Occasionally I check Richmond, VA, the Eastern Shore of Maryland and Philadelphia, telling myself that for the right deal on the right piece, I'd drive (history is proving this to be a lie, however).

I actually have a bad track record on Craigslist. I see plenty of deals, but what I tend to get in the car with is junk. Enough junk that my ultra frugal husband asked me to stop buying used items and to just spend money on something new that I would keep.

In my defense, the items don't seem like junk when I hop in the car, but I seem to be unable to tell sellers that I don't want their wobbly table/wobbly chair/tattered younameit, and the next thing I know I'm driving back home with a piece of crap tied to my car with twine.

I can fix this. First, I need to get a Craigslist backbone. It is not a crime to disappoint people, who know very well that their items are junk and probably howl with laughter before my tires leave their driveways. Second, I need to increase the amount of money I'm willing to spend. For some reason, I have it in my head that I need to spend $100 or less when shopping CL. There are quite a few gorgeous items on there for quite a few dollars more than $100. I'm not even sure where I got that number.

I told my husband that I'd make a compromise. I cannot give up Craigslist, or brick and mortar thrifting, and sink wholly into the world of new retail purchases only. I think I'd break into hives. So I'll be more discriminating about what comes home from Craigslist, or The Salvation Army, or any of my varied consignment shop haunts.

I will follow new rules.

Rule: No buying items that do not coordinate with anything I own. In the least.

I think the lines of this table are gorgeous, but the table is too small, even with a leaf, for use as the dining room table I need. It also requires refinishing, which brings me to the next rule:

No buying what are essentially new projects until I finish a few of the projects I already have going.

I think this sofa is amazing, but I'd want to reupholster it. Big project, and I'm not ready.

Rule 3: Stick somewhat to a sense of style your husband can appreciate.

I know that this settee is gorgeous, but it would be beyond him. Too traditional, too floral, too too. I do believe in mixing and matching pieces for a transitional look, but I think this piece might be too large to pull that off. If it were a chair, that would be another story.

Last rule: Don't procrastinate.

This gorgeous midcentury chair (one in a set! Whoo hoo!) is unlikely to still be available after a week, which is when I'd generally get around to contacting the seller. If I wanted these chairs, I'd need to act today.

But I don't want them. I don't think. I think I'd want a different fabric on them, and, well, see the rules above.

Again, I'm a work in progress.