Thursday, November 10, 2011

Shabby Chic for Shabby Chicks

It's amazing what a difference one letter can make.  I've always thought of the term "shabby chic" as a bit of a self gratification session (I'm trying hard not to swear!)

There is also some kind of brilliantly simple diabolical thinking going on here.  Whoever came up with shabby chic is one clever monkey.  I'm going to take a guess as to what prompted this movement.  One woman or man had a garage full of stuff.  People came and viewed the stuff at a garage sale and said "wow, your stuff's really old, rusty and the paint's peeling off.  I wouldn't give you 20 cents for that rusty oak barrel or that crappy sign that says "flour" that has cobwebs all over it.  Your junk sucks."

So this woman or man, after not selling a thing at their garage sale, developed a plan.  S/he would put a display ad in the local paper, showing all the old rusty, paint peeling crap in a large country-style room, complete with polished floorboards, lace doileys, white tablecloths, white curtains, another bunch of doileys, a couple of pot plants and a headline for the picture "shabby chic".  And thus, the shabby chic movement was created, giving all people from all walks of life the opportunity to sell a rusty bike on ebay for $400 to a clueless yuppie who is willing to buy all your paint-peeling, oxidising junk at premium prices.  And everyone was happy.



And hey, if you want to make your place into a Jane Austen on coke meets Barbara Cartland nightmare then go ahead.  I have developed an irrational fear of lace, doileys and all-white rooms.  And floral bedspreads.    So a shabby chic room for me would be like some kind of interrogation room.  I'd end up telling everything, even though nobody would be asking me any questions.  I'd tell where the gold is buried and the combination to a non-existant jewel safe, just to get out of there.  If someone brought out the iced Vo-Vos I might even scream.  Or run.  Or both. 

What I love even more is when people get this wrong.  Apparently you can buy a table from a "shabby chick", which is in my opinion, too much information for a simple buyer/seller relationship.







I do appreciate her honesty, though.  If you want to create your own shabby chic wonderland, more power to you.  Just don't be too surprised if one of those creepy-assed dolls moves when you're not looking.





1 comments:

Kath Lockett said...

Agree with you entirely!

I'm a shabby chick (ie dag) so the thought of paying for decaying, rusting, peeling, cracked, lacy and wrinkled stuff just doesn't appeal - my own body gives me enough!




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