My Settee: A Love Affair

Make that an EXPENSIVE love affair.  I normally am not one to talk money numbers, but at the risk of looking quite tacky I'm going to because the whole process and the end price tag of this restoration adventure took a little bit to swallow at first.

Let's start waaaaaaaaay back at the beginning, where I would stay up late many a bleary-eyed night searching Craigslist for an antique settee for next to nothing.  I guess everyone else had the same idea because I never did come across one.

I also considered a few antique-wannabes at Ballard Designs and Wisteria, but never did make the plunge.

Some things are just meant to be, because one day after many fruitless years of searching I got a glorious email from my friend Gem.  One of her neighbors, Rena, was ready to part with a 300-year-old lovely that apparently came over with her family from England years and years ago.  Ummmmm...seriously?!!!

Yes!!!! I'm more than interested, as in, when can I pick this thing up and I'm literally on my way to the ATM...how much is she asking??

Free to a good home.

Oh. my. gracious.  I hope I don't wet my pants!

So, I went to meet Rena and see the settee in person, and after making absolute certain that this amazing benefactress was seriously letting this thing go, and seriously wouldn't take a penny for it, she helped me load it up into the bed of my truck.

There was one small catch... the sofa had a broken arm and needed some upholstery love {the fabric and trim had been well-worn and the original horsehair was popping out in places}, but she had already priced out the repairs a while back and didn't think they'd be much.

I hugged the right side of the road the whole way home at 30 miles per hour, throwing many admiring glances at my amazing treasure through the rearview mirror.

We were in the middle of our big move at the time, so the piece sat lonely in my garage for a number of weeks before I could finally get her into the upholstery shop to assess the investment, knowing I wanted to "do this right" and not attempt a DIY project on my own.

After careful inspection, the shop owner looked at me with a furrowed brow and asked, "So, exactly how attached to this thing are you?"

Not a good sign, but seriously, how bad can this be?  I'm committed, I told him.  He said not one but both arms were broken, and they were pretty ugly breaks, and I'd definitely need all new fabric, stuffing, and the springs needed repairing.

Deep breath in.  Exhale.  OK, still committed... ball park figure?  {Gulp}.

He gave me the upholstery estimate, minus the cost of fabric, and said he'd call in his friend -- a local Englishman -- who specializes in antique furniture repair.

A week later I got a phone call.  Yes, both arms were badly broken and it would cost half a Ballard settee to fix.   I told him I'd get back to him, and sat down that night to discuss with the hubs.

And this is the part where I adore my husband.  I told him it didn't make much sense, apart from it being cool to save such an awesome piece from the dump, to spend all the money fixing it up when I could have something brand-spanking new and sturdy with custom fabric for less than it was going to cost me to repair, buy fabric, and reupholster this particular settee.  As many of us know, reason doesn't stand much of a change when something's gotten a hold of your heart, and while I didn't love the money pit this project was turning into, inwardly I was already too attached to quit.

Eric listened, and then said screw logic and reason, and to stop thinking in terms of dollars and to instead think in terms of benefit and value.  He said if I felt that we should keep the sofa and fix it up, then I should commit my creative talents and know-how to doing just that, and doing it well, without considering the financial cost.

What a guy.  So, I gave James the repair specialist the go ahead to fix up our settee.  A week later he called to inform me that he hadn't realized how badly the legs needed reinforcing.  Cha ching.

Another week and he called again to tell me the work was done and he would drop her back off at the upholstery shop.

I had ordered my fabric already, and in the do-it-right-or-don't-bother spirit, I spent a small fortune on gorgeous Dwell Studio fabric that I'd been admiring for a while with plans to use it on the front/inside portion of the piece.  I chose a coordinating fabric for the back/outside of the settee, a less expensive but quality upholstery-weight taupe and white stripe.  It came in soon after ordering, but the Dwell fabric was on backorder for a month.  I placed the order despite the long wait, but after its delivery date came and went I ended up canceling my order with Calico Corners and repurchasing it elsewhere.  A week later it arrived and I took it to the upholsterer.

New springs, new stuffing, and new fabric later and she was ready to be picked up.

I LOVE HER.

{Even in bad lighting, she is still a stunner!}

She cost me a fair sum more than any of the nicest options in her class at Ballard and Wisteria, and while we have some beautiful things in our home, she is still the most expensive piece of furniture I own.

The kicker is that even after all the mending and reinforcing, she still can't bear much weight... I guess people were smaller and thinner back in her day {typing this as I drink my Sonic Route 44 Dr. Pepper and munch on leftover rock candy from Emerson's party}.  So, instead of being the showstopper in our living room as I'd originally planned, she now sits confidently at the foot of our bed in the master bedroom.

She quietly holds her own as she faces the brand-spanking-new Restoration Hardware printmaker's dresser that was made to look like it came over on a boat from England 300 years ago, even though it definitely has never seen a printmaker's shop, held a single inking brayer or type block, and more likely came over on a boat from China.

But still, they look great together and I'm sooooo pleased to have such an amazing piece of heirloom furniture in my home.  It truly is beautiful and I've loved the process of giving a well-worn item a new lease on life.

Thanks so much, Rena, for generously gifting me this beautiful sofa that I know has meant so much to you and your family.  I enjoyed the process of giving her a face-lift and I hope you're as pleased with the results as I am.  We will enjoy it for many, many years to come!