My husband and I found some dining room chairs at a lovely consignment store. We were looking to replace our own dining room chairs, which we had found several years ago in a similar shop. We spotted these “new” chairs after debating long and hard about another set of chairs we had discovered in another display close by. Those other chairs were in mint condition but unfortunately had a hefty price to go along with them. It was while we were debating whether to buy them that we stumbled across this other set. These chairs were more in keeping with my husband’s and my taste, and the price was less than a third of the other ones. It was almost a no-brainer, and before we knew it, they were sitting in our dining room.
You definitely get
what you pay for, and these chairs were no exception. They needed some detail work,
and we decided to have the seats recovered as well. I’d never forayed into the
reupholstering world, but before I knew it, I found myself in a little shop.
The kindly gentleman uncovered some chairs that were piled high with fabric
books for us to sit on. My husband and I decided on black faux leather, and the
proprietor took out boxes of little books that were filled with enough swatches
of fabric to make my head spin. I mean, how do you choose? There were big bumps
and little bumps, big creases and little creases, shiny material or matte. But
not to worry, my husband and I have it down to a science now; I narrow down the
choices, and he makes the final decisions.
It was an easy
decision to make, by comparison, since we also decided to have new cushions
made for a lovely pair of chairs that we own. These sweet little chairs have a
history in my husband’s family. His grandmother bought them for his mother, and
we inherited them. They were wrought iron porch chairs with a beautiful leaf
pattern. We decided to spray paint them, have cushions made, and use them
inside our house rather than outside on the deck where they have lived for several
years.
It was back to the
drawing board to find the perfect fabric to use. Someone gave me the good idea
of choosing the color by matching it to a pillow that would be in the same room
as the chairs. That certainly made the choice of colors much easier, or so I
thought. This time, I went to an upscale upholstery store, where the fabric
samples were lined up like books in a library with thousands of fabrics to
choose from. I took out my pillow and pointed to the color I was seeking and
watched as the saleslady expertly pulled book after book off the shelves with
swift efficiency.
Oh, how I wished
there were only five samples to choose from instead of the hundreds that were
put before me. Thankfully, I knew what I didn’t like and happily pushed them aside.
I once again found three samples that I preferred and looked forward to giving
them to my husband to make the final decision. I felt dizzy from my efforts and
was more than ready to go. I took my books up to the front counter, half
expecting to be asked for my library card.
It took my husband
less than a minute to make his decision. How I envied him. Why is it that men’s
shopping experiences are so much easier than women’s? I can picture my husband
when he goes clothes shopping. He walks up to the rack, finds something he
likes, looks at the size, and done! I start my shopping experience in exactly
the same way. I also walk up to the rack, choose something I like, and look at
the size. This is where our similarities begin and end. While my husband is taking
his item to the checkout counter to pay, I’m perusing every other rack to make
sure I’ve seen everything in that style that there is to see, before making a
beeline to the dressing room, loaded down with as much as I can carry. If and
when I find something I like, I’ll spend a significant amount of time deciding
whether to buy it or not. I ask myself if it looks right when I turn this way
or that, does it match what I already have, does it cost too much, and do I
really need it? In the time it takes me to decide, my husband could take the
car to get an oil change.
Thankfully, I’ve
ordered all the fabric for my chairs, and best of all, the decision-making is
behind me. It’s been a recovering process for my chairs – and for me. I breathe
a sigh of relief as I cross this task off my list and am glad it’s over. I’m
looking forward to seeing the chairs once they are done. By then, I won’t
remember the many decisions that went into it all, and besides, I’ll be onto my
next task of deciding if the shoes I’m seeing on my feet in the store mirror
are really that comfortable. Do I like this color, or are the ones in black
much better? And are they Shabbosdik or really only for weekday?
Zahava Hochberg
created the weekly column “Musings Through a Bifocal Lens” for the Monsey Mevaser newspaper. She also
created a new section for the paper called “The Silver Slant.” Zahava can be reached
at zahava.hochberg17@gmail.com.
