Pottery Barn

I mentioned recently that we have been looking for a new dinette set to replace our 12-year-old table and chair for four.  Replacement pained us, as there is nothing wrong with the current set-up, except the fact that we now need a table for five.  Something about adding that fifth chair to our nook-type space made the current table not a good fit. 

So... the search began.  We looked at several local stores and exhausted some online options. Since many of the design blogs I peruse swear by Craigslist as a treasure trove of good finds, I even looked there, often browsing several cities in addition to our home town.  As it turns out, finding a formal dining room suite would be much easier than a casual dinette for six. 

In the meantime, I decided that my roving work space that I use for the downstairs was no longer tenable.  I have a nice armoire in the upstairs playroom, and there is an extra desk in Skip's office.  (I could write a series of posts about how Skip allows no distractions in his office, including one entitled "Don't Even Sit Down." Let's just say he doesn't welcome company.)  The bottom line and to make a long story short: I need to be able to work on the main level, but I didn't really want to invest much in a desk.  I again approached Craigslist, and I found the solution.  The listing was for the Pottery Barn Aniston desk (without hutch), and the desk was approximately two months old.  The seller was in the process of moving to a new apartment and would no longer have room for this desk.  I made the call, and we agreed on a pick up time. 

The next morning I glanced again online at my big score (at a deeply discounted price), and I noticed the seller had other listings.  And, believe it or not, he had a Pottery Barn table and chairs for sale also.  The listing indicated that the set was approximately four months old, and, again, he needed to sell them prior to moving.  A browse of additional listings confirmed my suspicion.  This seller had furnished his entire apartment from Pottery Barn, prompting me to recall the Friends episode when Rachel outfitted the apartment she shared with Phoebe with mass produced, uninspired furniture from the PB. 

Well, I'm no Phoebe.  Therefore, I have no problem with Pottery Barn.  Sure, I prefer Restoration Hardware, but our seller did not purchase his furniture from Resto, did he?  Beggars cannot be choosers and all that.  I contacted the seller, let's call him Mike, and asked if he would kindly hold the table for us to look at when we picked up the desk.  He agreed.  I measured and measured and hoped against hope that the set would work.  Frankly, the odds were slim based on our research and shopping to date. 

During my exchanges with Mike, consisting of e-mail at this point, I noticed that his professional contact information was listed.  He is affiliated with a company called Design Drawers.  We are always dreaming of having shelves installed, and there is the matter of Skip's office that could always use some work.  While these projects are loosely defined and currently not in the budget at all, we like to have resource information just in case.  Since he could be practically any kind of designer (e.g., landscape, bridge, closet, home, etc.), I thought it would be prudent to check out the site to keep from embarrassing myself when asking about his services in person. 

Well, friends, he is not an interior designer; he does not design bridges, closets or anything of that sort.  Instead, he is in the fashion industry.  The company isn't Design Draw-ers.  It's Design Drawers (pronounced:  draw's), as in underwear... men's underwear, to be specific.  The site is a little racy, although no more so than Victoria's Secret, for sure.  In fact, the night before we were to pick up the furniture, I shared this story with friends at the girls' ballet class, and my friend Ashley immediately dubbed "Mike" Victor and referred to the business as Victor's Secret.  She also gamely checked out the site. I want to encourage you to resist the urge to Google the company.  Anyrate, we discussed what we thought Mike's role is with the company... owner?  designer?  model?  We settled on IT, that he probably designed and maintained the site.  We debated whether or not he might have a comb-over, and I was glad to have spared myself discussing his company in person.

Last Friday afternoon (actually two Fridays ago), we hopped in our cars and drove to Mike/Victor's apartment.  The desk is gorgeous!  Like many of Pottery Barn's pieces, it is larger than I anticipated, but I love-love-love it.  The table/chairs were also super nice, and Mike confessed that they had never been used.  Total score.  We decided they would work for our space, and started disassembling/loading. 

Before and after

 

Something tells me you aren't that interested in the furniture.  For those of you who don't know Skip, let me share a couple of things with you.  First, he will ask or say anything, anytime, anywhere.  Second, he is so personable that no one ever takes offense (at least they don't seem offended).  So, naturally, while I was trying to scrub the image of the website from my mind so as not to give away the fact that I knew about the whole "draw's" venture, Skip asked him about his company flat-out.  Mike is an ex-marine, and we decided that he very well could be one of the models on the site.  (He's super in shape, and made us consider laying off the Halloween candy once and for all.) He started the business and is trying to get it off the ground.  Go entrepreneurship! 

There were no samples thrown in as part of our transaction, but we have a super sweet desk and table --  and a good story to share with guests during meals.