Sometimes it's downright embarrassing. And expensive.
But, it's an expensive, embarrassing cross I'm willing to bear because in addition to being fickle, I'm also a control freak, martyr and homemaker.
I bear many crosses.
My fickle nature drove me to have the house painted one color, and weeks later paint it again; a different color. But, my indecision isn't limited to the confines of my 4, twice-painted walls. This costly quirk of mine forces me to wander store after store, again and again, purchasing and returning, buying and trying as I try to build a comfortable nest for my family.
At our housewarming party, a guest pointed out a beautiful armoire in my formal living room. It has it's original 100 year old cream paint finish, lovingly chipped away in all the right places, rickety dovetail drawers, turnlegs and claw feet clutching clear marbles. It even has a charming midi crest gently sweeping across the top and back of it.
Sigh.
I didn't have to change a thing about it except the hardware, which I updated with vintage-looking apple green crystal knobs to match my green chair. Yes, I put NEW, old-looking knobs on an antique armoire. Heh.
"Thank you. I found that at the Antique Gallery for $100!"
My humble self then pointed out all of my other fabulous finds from the Gallery.
"Gallery (point), Gallery (point). Gallery (crane neck around corner to next room, point)"
My guest was very impressed and intrigued. And, who wouldn't be? I pretty much decorated my whole house with conversation starting, attention grabbing, 'I wish I had that!' exciting Gallery pieces.
"What is this 'Gallery' you speak of?"
*dies*
Because I'm kind of a promoter and (unpaid) whore of The Antique Gallery, and overall good person, I invited my party guest to come with me the next time I go to the Gallery, so I can expose her to the wonderful world of tasteful, eclectic, affordable home furnishing and design.
I haven't been to The Gallery since I found out Dale died.
Dale worked at the Gallery and is to thank for loading all my large furniture finds into the back of my SUV for the last ten years. Dale always validated, with sincere jealousy, my wonderful finds. "I don't know how you do it! You're an inspiration!"
Thanks, Dale. It's not easy.
Even though I love, love, love The Gallery, it has two huge problems. The first and most awful being, 'No returns or exchanges allowed'. Never mind that the turn off is hand-written, landscape style on an 8x11 sheet of binder paper and stuck to the front door with silver duct tape. I get it.
The sign could easily read, "Check all large bags and fickle behaviors at the front desk because your indecisive ass ain't coming back in here with no dresser that didn't fit."
There is no point, pick and pray at The Gallery.
There is no hoping it works, thinking it will work, or 'just liking' it.
There is no blind shopping at The Gallery. There is no Fickle. Which completely goes against my savvy cross-bearing, home decorating whims.
As a result, I now have a basement full of 'PERFECT!' items the Gallery won't take back. I have enough to open my own Gallery. By definition, I'm probably teetering on Hoarder territory. But not by design.
And now, I'm committed to taking my neighbor to the Gallery.
I don't need anything else at the Gallery. I'm done. I'm good. But, I CANNOT go in and not buy something.
It's what Dale would have wanted.
But, I also cannot go in and buy something with designs on returning it once I've shed my buyers regret. I'm running out of room in the basement for regret. So, half of me doesn't even want to go.
The other half of me is just dying to see if they have any antique crosses.
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