Wednesday, May 18, 2016

Plate Walls for All

Thrifting is my favorite frenemy.

You might recall two winters ago when I decided to buy only secondhand clothing for six months and it was basically the best thing ever. I combed the racks every couple of weeks. I bought outfits for strangers. I had found my new home, amid crammed racks of squat, discarded Ann Taylor Loft with  vintage Michael Jackson/The Cranberries/Genesis as my soundtrack. (Seriously, Goodwill Radio needs to be an immediate THING.)

Then spring came, and I found myself with a closet full of stuff I didn't really love. Complicating matters is my legendary affliction of feeling sorry for ignored, unloved apparel. Not only did I have to face their forlorn faces, I peer pressured myself into wearing them. Regularly.

(Yes, they have faces.)

So I purged. I repented. I regrouped.
I bought an $80 gingham shirt off the rack at JCrew.

Regrettably, I'm too complicated a person to say the story ends there. Because when winter came back around, I heard the siren call once again to get out amongst the people from time to time without spending money that didn't need to be spent.

I needed a new thrift-store diversion. I needed a new hunt.

I don't remember how I zeroed in on the next object of my obsession, I only know that when my sister and I went thrifting a few months ago, she heaved a deep sigh and said, "I guess I'll meet you in an hour right here in the plate aisle." She knew I would still be there an hour later and she was 100% correct.


I began scooping up plates for...something. Since I live a nearly-wall-less existence, it became clear to me that these plates were never meant for me. Lo, I would need to set them free.

For almost a full orbit of God's green earth, I scoured every thrift store I encountered for plates. I stepped around boxes of plates in the narrow walkway around the perimeter of our bed. I moved stacks of plates around the house like darling chess pieces. Not a day went by that I didn't think about the plates (and, by virtue, you) probably because it became freaking impossible to ignore the stacks of plates closing in on me especially in February when northerners basically begin to hate everything oh my gosh.

The funny thing is, I never did this to earn cash.
I figured the hours of idle pleasure the plates afforded me meant they had already paid for themselves and la-di-da about shipping costs and a big "Whatever, man" about the prices of bubble wrap.

Guess what? I wasn't a business major in college.

Long story short (let's pretend this is a short story), I had an epiphany.

My local friend Jolene and her family are embarking on bringing another babe home via adoption and I want to sell these plates and give the proceeds to them as a token of love and support. When we were in the process of adopting Calvin a friend sent us a check for $50 and a cried my eyelids raw. I get it, I love it, and I want to be a part of it. I've also watched Jolene generously support other adoptions over the three years I've known her and I want her to feel that love bouncing off of all of us and smacking her right back on the forehead. In love.

I have a feeling you'll want to be part of it, too. And not just for the plates, though they are pretty rad and curated and perfectly Anthro-quirky and wall-ready, if I do say so myself.

Here's all you need to know: I created a bunch of plate wall collections and one of them has your name on it because if there are only three things I truly believe in the world right now they are: 1) God is for us 2) Silas never, ever stinks, not ever and it's weirdly amazing. 3) Every home needs a plate wall.

Here's a picture of mine soon after we moved in:


Here's a post my friend Layla wrote about why we were hardwired to care deeply about plate walls, or at least that's my interpretation.

And since we're already getting much too geeked about plates, here are a few of my favorite plate walls, via Pinterest. (This one. This one. And this one. You can't make me stop. So many plates, so little time!)

Keep in mind, the sets could be their own little plate wall, or they could be a starting point for a big, crazy-awesome plate wall. Plates for all! Plates for your wall!

Plates are the new wallpaper. That's what I always say.

Ladies and gentlemen, there are thirteen sets of plates. Go ahead and gasp like Jolene did when I shared this cockamamie plan with her. It's okay, my loss is truly your gain. And my gain. (It's all so wonderfully complicated!)

Nitty Gritty:
  • The fun starts tomorrow at 10:00 AM EST.
  • We're going to run this like an old-school auction, minus the dolladollagimmetendoIheartwenty. (But oh man, would that ever be awesome.)
  • The starting bid for each will be $35 and will include shipping (along with a prayer that nothing breaks in transit.) 
  • Most collections include five plates. (One includes four, one includes seven because I couldn't split up the fam.)
  • The selection is varied, some are eclectic, some are colorful, some are neutral. I carefully curated each collection according to what I would want hanging on my own wall.
  • I actually wish I could keep them all for myself.
  • Announcement: Tomorrow's auction has been canceled!
  • J/k.
  • If you need one of these one-of-a-kind collections up in your business, you'll leave a comment on tomorrow's post with your paypal email address and your bid. 
  • Here's the kicker: you'll need to keep an eye on the comments, lest you be outbid. 
  • Remember, this is an adoption fund-raiser, so you're not just buying amazing plates, you're helping build a family!
  • Bidding will end on Friday at 10 am EST
  • Winners will be announced on Saturday. (Thank you, Ebay, for teaching us that buying something with actual cash can also be referred to as "winning"!)

I'll leave you with this one enticement, not because I secretly think it's the best collection, but simply because it's named Collection 1.

Isn't she pretty?


See you tomorrow!