The day we looked at this old farmhouse, I knew that there were things that this lovely old home needed. A 3 drawer dresser was one of those things. Not a new reproduction, or a fine antique, but a piece that had seen much use. A piece that could be painted and would probably be imperfect.
This dresser was located in a local shop, it was my version of perfect. It had been painted an awful shade of brown and looked rather sad sitting in a corner, forgotten and neglected. It appeared to have been stored for a long period of time and was in desperate need of a good cleaning and some tender loving care. This piece came home with me that day.
The piece was cleaned and painted. It was glazed and some of the paint was sanded off. It doesn't seem right to say that it was distressed. Time had done that job for me. I then waxed this dresser and stood back, realizing that it would need hardware as the original hardware was missing.
My intention was to age the new hardware, as you can tell that hasn't happened yet. It is a future project.
The chest of drawers sat in my dining room for a time, then was moved upstairs to a bedroom.
There were no keys with this piece and I wondered what had been stored inside? What treasures had this chest held at one time?
I will never know the answers to those questions, so my imagination will have to create the answers.
This dresser could not have things on top that were brand new, it begged for time worn items. Things that were once loved by someone.
A tattered dresser scarf was put down first. Handmade by someone unknown long ago and once loved, it is loved and used once again.
An old hand bag rests on the corner. Some of the beads are missing and it is stained. It was once loved and carried by a lady, sadly this stained and forgotten hand bag was carried to the flea market, where I found it. It's imperfections make it perfect now and it is respectable once again.
Things that were once unloved now have a place here in this old farmhouse. That was how the residents of this area lived. They kept their things and used them in spite of their imperfections. Their homes were comfortable, clean and welcoming. I know this because it is how my family lived, I am a descendant of those old farmers and remember the things in my grandparents homes.
Perfectly imperfect was the style. It was comfortable, inviting, imperfect and it was home in the most comforting sense sense of the word. The place we long for as adults and the place we played for hours as children. It is the style I love and work hard to create in this lovely old farmhouse. Imperfections are not only welcomed, but encouraged here!
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