This post is an homage, if you will, to Tim Gunn. Whom I love, despite the fact that I no longer watch Project Runway. This is one item of many on the list What is Wrong With My Life, which also includes I No Longer Watch Glee, I Have Too Many Clothes to Fit in My Closet, but Nothing to Wear, and I Need More Botox, but Ted Says We're Broke. But I digress. My love for Tim Gunn, much like my love for my husband xanax, is eternal and with good reason. His phrase Make It Work applies to everything in life, not just a dress made out of pre-chewed gum and the wrappers it came in. So this will be a recurring post where we take what we have and turn it in to what we want. What will I be applying it to today? The bar cart situation.
After looking at bar carts till I got drunk from the visuals, and lusting after several, and going day and night with bar carts on the brain, wondering how I had survived so long without one and being pissed at my mom for not handing down a vintage bar cart (in pristine condition) to me (and not to my sister), two things occurred to me. The first was that the place that I was planning to put the bar cart is right in front of the radiator:
Which is probably not an ideal place to store vintage port, champagne, and 18-year-old scotch. One day, according to Ted, he will no longer be able to tolerate the heat in the summer and we will have to get central air, in which case it won't matter that the bar cart is in front of the radiator, but that day is a loooooong, $20,000 way off (we need two units because we have stone walls, which essentially doubles the price, OMG even I'M bored by this tangent). The second thing that I realized was that we already had a bar. I know this does not make me sound very bright, and I wish I could say that I didn't realize it was a bar until now because we use it as a linen press or something, but the fact is we use it as a bar. Well, on the inside we use it as a bar. On the outside it looks like this:
Since all the bar carts I fancied were about a thousand bucks (I have expensive taste. Nice to meet you.) and that I didn't really have anywhere to put it even if I bought one, I got home from work today and decided to channel Tim Gunn and Make It Work. Here is my new (well, sort of) bar:
It doesn't roll (sad face) and it needs more stuff on it (happy face) like liquor decanters and more liquor bottles and tonic and soda and coasters (see next post) and probably another silver tray but it's growing on me. As soon as Ted gets home, I am going to force him to make us vodka martinis, extra dirty extra olives, and after a few of those I'm sure I will love this bar with my whole heart.
XOXOXO
ABC
P.S. This Make It Work has left me with a bunch of framed photos of friends and family that used to sit on top of the bar and now have no home. What the hell am I supposed to do with these? Where are all your photos? And don't say the mantel because I'm not putting them on the fucking mantel.
After looking at bar carts till I got drunk from the visuals, and lusting after several, and going day and night with bar carts on the brain, wondering how I had survived so long without one and being pissed at my mom for not handing down a vintage bar cart (in pristine condition) to me (and not to my sister), two things occurred to me. The first was that the place that I was planning to put the bar cart is right in front of the radiator:
Which is probably not an ideal place to store vintage port, champagne, and 18-year-old scotch. One day, according to Ted, he will no longer be able to tolerate the heat in the summer and we will have to get central air, in which case it won't matter that the bar cart is in front of the radiator, but that day is a loooooong, $20,000 way off (we need two units because we have stone walls, which essentially doubles the price, OMG even I'M bored by this tangent). The second thing that I realized was that we already had a bar. I know this does not make me sound very bright, and I wish I could say that I didn't realize it was a bar until now because we use it as a linen press or something, but the fact is we use it as a bar. Well, on the inside we use it as a bar. On the outside it looks like this:
Since all the bar carts I fancied were about a thousand bucks (I have expensive taste. Nice to meet you.) and that I didn't really have anywhere to put it even if I bought one, I got home from work today and decided to channel Tim Gunn and Make It Work. Here is my new (well, sort of) bar:
It doesn't roll (sad face) and it needs more stuff on it (happy face) like liquor decanters and more liquor bottles and tonic and soda and coasters (see next post) and probably another silver tray but it's growing on me. As soon as Ted gets home, I am going to force him to make us vodka martinis, extra dirty extra olives, and after a few of those I'm sure I will love this bar with my whole heart.
XOXOXO
ABC
P.S. This Make It Work has left me with a bunch of framed photos of friends and family that used to sit on top of the bar and now have no home. What the hell am I supposed to do with these? Where are all your photos? And don't say the mantel because I'm not putting them on the fucking mantel.