Nesting Up: In Defense of Knick-Knacks.

This is a guest post by Emily Power.

I dig the minimalist aesthetic. I love neutral colors, clean lines, and practical objects. I understand the importance of simplicity and letting something–a room for example–speak for itself in one’s use of quality furniture and understated tones and lack of clutter. I love only owning things that I use or that serve some sort of purpose.

But I also love stuff. I love little useless items–like brass ducks and porcelain figurines–and I love them adorning my shelves. And I am not sure whether I feel guilty about this because I keep reading design blogs that poo-poo this sort of STUFF or because, despite my obvious inclination toward curio, it’s the rooms that are so simple and sparse that I drool over. I feel like I am betraying myself and the aesthetic I lust after.

But the fact of the matter is: tchotchkes rock. they make my life and my shelves complete. (That, and I’m mourning the recent and tragic loss of my memories [photos] from the last two years on my external hard-drive. Thus, it’s hard to focus on anything besides the intrinsic sentimental value of what I still possess.)

Which is where my argument begins: knick-knacks serve a purpose in that, if they are chosen and displayed tastefully, they are able to tell a story. Some of the knick-knacks I display are nothing but cute or neat looking or work with the look I’m going for. But most of them–most of these small, seemingly unimportant objects–speak of the past.

The following photos are of the four curio-filled shelves that occupy two walls and make this little bungalow a little more of a home.

The print in the green frame and the yellow print below it are by Tim Fite who JP and I discovered when we went to see Man Man in Chicago last winter. The brass bird is a thrift store find. It’s for sale but I’m secretly hoping no one buys it. I received the ceramic jar from relatives who used to live in Malawi and the glass vase is filled with stones and currency and trinkets from my travels with my husband as well as beautiful feathers from our chickens.

The letterpress blocks are from my mother. She gave us “EOD & JBP” as a gift for our engagement. I flipped the D to make a P when we got married. I found the turkey legs at an estate sale in Minneapolis this summer. They go well with my poultry obsession but I still get creeped-out looks from guests. I’m well aware I’m teetering on the edge of crazy-bird-lady status. The mini tray reads: “Flattery will get you somewhere. Start talking.” Commentors: take note.

The shelf in our living room holds various glass bottles, an etched vase given to us by JP’s grandmother, cactus, sickeningly-sweet photos of the two of us, and a chopstick holder in the shape of a paper crane–there was never any intention of using it for its proper purpose when I purchased it.  The shelf itself I bought in Denver for $10 from the very man that built it 30 years ago.

What are your most beloved knick-knacks? What is your argument for or against knick-knacks or trinkets?

Emily is an urban homesteader who recently celebrated the arrival of her first egg. In an attempt to not become a pack rat she has opened two shops on etsy: ollie’s vintage and cookshop denver.

Nesting Up: The Multi-Purpose Room

This is a guest post by Emily Power.

This is our dining room/library/study/china cabinet/gallery. This is it before we moved all of our stuff in.

We knew right away that this room was to be the dining room. What we found out soon after was that it would have to also operate as part library and part mud room and part kitchen cabinet and part china hutch. Of all the rooms in the house, this room most embodies the spirit of backgarage: It is able to be so much in such a small space because of all our wonderful secondhand finds. We especially like this room as the pieces in it have great stories behind them.

The two bookshelves are from Jonathan’s father, who built them twenty years ago for Jonathan and his three siblings so that they would have a place to put all their stuffed animals, games and books. We use them for our myriad of books, organized alphabetically by author, arranged by genre. Yes, we are nerds. We sanded and stained the bookshelves this summer and have not yet chosen a color to paint the back, primed walls. (remember the bathroom wall? yeah, i tend to not finish things quite all the way).

The dining room table is from Jonathan’s great grandmother. His grandparents had used it as extra counter space in Granddad’s workshop space in West Virginia. When we helped them move out Mimi was more than happy to see that thing go. We couldn’t have been happier. That thing is OLD and STURDY (despite the spindly-looking legs). The four folding chairs were also from Mimi and Granddad. Mimi kept cringing when we would show interest in these items that she had viewed as junk. We love them and have plans to recover the seats.

The credenza is a STEAL we got on Craigslist in Denver. It was $75 for both pieces. The pieces are from different furniture companies and the display case doesn’t have glass but it holds all of our everyday dish ware, serving platters, tablecloths, napkins, trays, flatware and pitchers. Just wait until you see my post on our kitchen: you will soon understand why everything is kept in the library! Underneath we [try to] hide our helmets, silverware, change jar and breakfast-in-bed tray.

It worked out well as I’m definitely a fan of displaying kitchen ware but, yes, it is a dusting nightmare.

And finally, we love this room because it’s where we’ve been able to display many of our photos, prints, paintings and other artifacts, in addition to Jonathan’s record collection. It is our little museum and conservatory!

Emily is an urban homesteader who recently arrived in Denver via Minneapolis by way of Chicago. In an attempt to not become a pack rat she has opened two shops on etsy: ollie’s vintage and cookshop denver.

Nesting Up: Entryways

This is a guest post by Emily Power.

When my mother and father were house hunting ten years ago, I had never understood my mother’s adamant desire for a mud room. But now I get it. I feel the mark of a real house, one built with intention and thoughtful planning, is a house with ample space for an entryway; an area to collect your belongings as you decompress from all that stuff out there. Our house does not have that. Our front door opens into the middle edge of a large rectangular room that works as our dining room/library/living room. But we’ve improvised.

Our wild wild west house came outfitted with a log beam held up by two other logs. I’m not a huge fan of the stain of the wood but the beams naturally create a sort of room divider. We worked off of that. You can see one of the logs hiding behind the coats and leashes hung upon it.

The open front door creates a little nook. We stacked three salvaged factory drawers that we bought at the Chicago Antique Market on Randolph Street this year (tickets won through BackGarage!) and –voila– we have a sort of hallway table.

I think it suits us well as I prefer everything to have its own place. It just makes me feel better.

• On the top shelf, the thrifted lamp gives us extra lighting in the dining room. We use a kikkerland ceramic egg tray for our key drop (I found this at my favorite Goodwill in St Paul, MN).
• The second shelf a bowl holds our sunglasses and biking gear (gloves, hats, lights).  And until we can find someone to convert them to digital, it’s also a resting spot for old reel-to-reel tapes from Jonathan’s grandfather (anyone know of anyone?!)
• Before we had the third shelf, the limited space by our front door was littered with boxes of my etsy sales that needed to be taken to the USPS. This was annoying. Now I have an outbox.
• And finally, a shoe cubby! Just like in primary school.

Things in progress: new blinds and curtains and a lamp shade from (or inspired by) Ms. Hightower.

Emily is an urban homesteader who recently arrived in Denver via Minneapolis by way of Chicago. In an attempt to not become a pack rat she has opened two shops on etsy: ollie’s vintage and cookshop denver.

Nesting Up: Bathroom

This is a guest post by Emily Power.

Our Denver bathroom doesn’t quite have the character of the Chicago bathrooms I’ve had in the past.

• windowless, bad lighting
• bland primer-colored walls
• funky pink linoleum instead of classy white tile

Gross. I couldn’t stand it. It’s the first room I had to work on. And while I would still prefer more muted colors, classic tile, and natural lighting, I think this space is starting to resemble a bathroom and not a rest stop.

Here’s what we did:

• Painted three of the drab walls a no-name green
• Lowered the towel rack
• Hung the naked lady painting
• Added a full-length mirror
• Used a vintage magazine rack as towel storage
• Installed a chrome shelving unit
• Put up our nice waffled cloth shower curtain (not really pictured)
• Used some thrifted items for character: green glass container, white enamel bread tin for a make-up box

So you tell me: should I suck it up and paint that fourth wall? I didn’t because I was avoiding have to paint around the fixtures and whatnot. I’m sure it’ll be a bitch to do so. What about alternatives for bath mats? Can you envision a different color working better for the already-painted vanity and sink cabinet? Other comments, encouragements or critiques?

Here’s where I found some of my touches:

• magazine rack — one of the five fabulous stores on the St. Paul Retro Loop
• naked lady painting — alley behind our last flat in Logan Square
• bread tin — the Ark Thrift Store on Milwaukee Ave, Chicago
• sweet-ass double edge safety razor (Jonathan’s plug) — RetroRazor
• great quality paint for cheap — ‘oops’ paint at Sherwin Williams (just ask to see their mis-tints, often in the back.)

Emily is an urban homesteader who recently arrived in Denver via Minneapolisby way of Chicago. In an attempt to not become a pack rat she has opened two shops on etsy: ollie’s vintage and cookshop denver.