Siddity in the City

I started this post weeks ago, actually, and never got around to finishing it. I do that a lot these days. I may finally be over this whole blog thing, it seems. But I wanted to finish it, so I have, more or less. *shrugs*

My mornings these days are simple. I wake, roll directly from my floor-nesting Aerobed into a crouch, haul myself up, and stumble bleary-eyed through my ablutions. Breakfast, makeup, and then a two minute lurch to the bus. The whole thing takes an hour, half awake and easy-peasy.

It is only during the evenings that I appreciate all that my new home has, and all that it lacks. Has: potential. Lacks: a stick of actual furniture.

This is simple to correct, yes? No.

I’ve never been confronted with this degree of naked potential before. Previous dwellings all forced me to operate within certain constraints; they were furnished when I moved in, sported bizarre architectural features or design elements I could not correct, or worse, I was just too goddamned broke to decorate with anything that wasn’t free, won in a dumspter-diving session or donated by the folks.

I’ve moved three times in the last year alone, a full fourteen times in the last ten years. I have lived free of the weight of chiffarobes and demilunes and Shaker dining sets, and the stress of coordinating them all with drapes and blankets. Until now.

The shitter? I sometimes spend hours a day at work pouring through decorating and design mags. Just yesterday, I plowed through four, ranging from country lifestyle titles to urban deco bibles. My mind is a soup of to-the-trade Parson chairs and big box store finds under $50(!). Ugh. Not helping.

Where do I begin? Which room do I address first in order to most quickly make my little box feel like home?

I suppose the heart of a home is wherever or whatever you decide it will be. I’m currently waffling between the bed–not the bedroom, the bed, full stop–and the kitchen. There are few things I love more than a good bed, sleeping in, reading in bed…but mucking around the kitchen happens to be right up there.

Currently, the kitchen is winning the race to full-functionality, primarily because, well, it’s a lot cheaper. To wit, my CB2 robin’s egg blue serving bowls were $0.99 each on clearance. The bed of my dreams is going to cost about a thousand times that, without so much as an irregular 150 thread count sheet to warm me.

So. Kitchen accountrement for the win.

I decided, more or less willy-nilly, that flatware would be my first “serious” kitchen purchase.

I’m kind of a freak about my flatware. I scored a lovely set of Retroneu flatware secondhand a few years back, my first flatware purchase that wasn’t the cheapest thing off the rack at a big box store. 18/10 stainless, classic lines, perfect heft, no spots. Currently shoved in a storage locker on the UWS.

I need something to tide me over. And while I don’t believe in spending a ton on a new set when my old set is just fine, I also don’t believe in spending any of my money–even $10–on crap. Hell, I went to see the Feeding Desireexhibit at the Cooper Hewitt a few years ago. The history and artistry of fork tines. This is my idea of a good time. You think I’m just going to pick up whatever Oneida set is on sale at my admittedly beloved local Tarjay? Now, try finding service for four matching the description above on the cheap.

Not easy.

After literally weeks of searching the likes of Target, LNT, Amazon.com, and Overstock, I’ve finally found a lovely set of solid quality, corrosion resistant, shiny-pretty Retroneu flatware at TJ Maxx, under $30.

See? Life can be lived well on a budget. It may be lived slowly, with tiny utensil victories and the rare exceptionally gorgeous splurge Bergere, but it can be managed!

I also picked up a copy of Bon Appetit SIP Keep it Simple: Easy Techniques for great home cooking on that TJ Maxx run. Now it sits in a corner taunting me, for while I’ve great forks and spoons, I haven’t so much as a roasting pan to my name. I’m still doing quick-fix meals with the set of stove-top essentials Michelle was kind enough to lend me. *headdesk* Slowly, self, tiny victories…

In other nesting news, newly affianced BFF and her love are keeping mum about their kitchen, instead choosing to eat and blog their way around the DC area.

Oh my gawd, do I miss that gal. Her write up of L’Auberge Provencale, where her BF proposed, is not to be missed. While her BF’s proposal to her may go down in history as her favorite story about him, her account of the proposal will be one of my favorite stories ever about her. Many women would be gushing about carats and sweet nothings. BFF was all carrots and sweets. When she called me to recount the tale, she insisted, “Oh, but the food, I have to tell you about the food!” before cutting to the chase!