My dear friend Diana and her beau, Joe, recently transplanted to the Mecca of the Midwest, Chicago, to pursue new professional and social adventures north of the Mason-Dixon. Abandoning the financial stagnancy of non-profit life, Diana has jumped aboard a new and exciting start-up venture, Furnishly, as their social media prima donna, happily and frantically building their digital presence on Twitter, Tumblr, and Pinterest. Though we have not lived in proximity to one another in years, before university to be precise, we have maintained a close friendship over the years for a variety of reasons, though, not insignificant has been our constant online dialogue, as we were each confined in our respective dull cubicles, griping about the bottom rungs of the corporate world.
This dynamic is sure to change, however, as Diana is now elated with the prospects and the energy surrounding her new, so far, dream job. Furnishly is a relatively simple but nonetheless elegant and brilliant concept: a collation of vintage and slightly used second-hand furniture in cities across the country. So, users can select a location and peruse the offerings and prices in that area. Currently, actual transactions can be made through the site only in Chicago, with plans to expand I am sure; other cities, users must contact the vendor directly. With this service, the pain and fear and frustration that can almost assuredly surround gleaning through Craigslist or Upcycle posts is immediately alleviated.
To rub some proverbial salt into the aching and bleeding wound that is my jealousy of her zeal for her new daily concerns, Diana shared with me the this post: a sting ray covered bureau. Sting ray is remarkably similar to snakeskin in terms of texture and sheen, though, the mottled pattern and the colors are often not so intuitively and immediately recognized. Instantaneously, I salivated with desire, a near Pavlovian response that most luxurious objects of leather and fur elicit, particularly those of the vintage furniture variety. It is the epitome of decadence in home decor, and I abhor whomever has the means to purchase it. As would be expected, the price for this piece is exorbitant. Naturally, it would look stunning in my bedroom, or, perhaps, would make my bedroom look stunning, but seems a bit of an impractical move at the moment, given I need, desperately, a new laptop and a tune up for my creaking and wheezing Honda. Sigh. The pains of delicate and fine aesthetics are really too much sometimes.
(images taken from Furnishly)