So remember that vintage medicine cabinet I mentioned on Friday? Yeah, I got it.
We drove an hour outside the city early Saturday morning (after I spent the night with a stomach bug and JAMAL spent it unsuccessfully attempting to breathe through his nose for the first time in a week). The things you do for love of vintage home goods, right? I just can’t believe this piece was UNDER $150. I almost felt like I robbed the store. Of course because I’m me, I spent the entire car ride panicking that we’d get there and despite my multiple phone calls to the vintage shop begging them to hold it for me, double checking they still had it, and asking for the measurements again, that we would get there and it would be gone. Or we’d get there and it would be in horrible condition and it would have been a waste of a car rental (oh yeah, we don’t have a car, either). But all my worry was for naught, like it usually is, and the whole thing took 5 minutes, and that includes the time it took me hand over the cash and load it into the back of our trunk. IT. IS. PERFECT.
Here’s a shot with Fitz for scale:
I apologize for the horrible quality of these photos, but I’m not kidding when I say our house is a black hole that gets no natural light. This is in the back of our first floor, with the kitchen directly behind me, and the laundry closet right next to Fitz. The only window on this level is across the room at the front of the house. City living! I’m also sorry for not “styling” the cabinet better, but whatever, we keep potatoes and garlic on it and not fancy striped straws or mirrored trays. Also, Fitz is so cute I can almost forgive him for all the shit he’s eaten in the past week. For the record: Otterbox cell phone cases cannot withstand being chewed by a heavily medicated rescue animal. Ahem.
And here’s a detail shot of the inside. We’re using it as a liquor cabinet, and storing all our cookbooks underneath. We’re lushes, what can I say. But for the record, that Jameson bottle has never been opened, and will likely never be opened, because Jameson is disgusting and nothing good ever comes from drinking it. Those black tins are my collection of Mariage Frères tea, and those old cans are empty vegetable cans JAMAL scored at another flea market a long time ago.
I found out it was made at a factory in Johnsville, Pennsylvania and was used in Harford County, Maryland in some medical office. There was even a handwritten card taped inside the cabinet with a list of medical supplies on it, including “Sutures, Hemostats, Elevators” and other terrifying clinical words. I forgot to take a picture of it. Blogger of the year.
Moral of the story: the vintage gods smiled upon me and life was good.