Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Ooh La La!
So, there is this fabric store in the mall that I absolutely love. They have a selection of some of the most beautiful, contemporary and unique upholstery fabrics I have ever seen. The problem is, they are also astronomically expensive, so usually I just go in there to dream. Last week, however, they were having a SALE! I had only gone in there to buy one yard of a specific trim that i needed, but oh, god, I was in for it now. $2, $3$, 5$ a yard for these fabrics that normally go for between $20-50 a yard!?! Oh, man, I was gonna be in trouble when I got home. And just as I was finished piling all my selections up on the register counter, I spotted it. On top of a pile of fabric pieces laid the most beautiful, elegant, fabulous piece of high-end damask brocade I have ever seen. It was cream satin, double layered over woven chenille, flocked so that the black paisely pattern was raised across the top. It just screamed of Old World elegance. I'm still new to this whole fabric world, mind you, but even I knew it was something special
The draped and beaded pillow above, Frenchie Buttons below.
"How much for this piece?" I asked"Forty dollars." Came the reply.
And just like that, I put it back, my dreams of owning this piece of fabulosity dashed. That was more than I could ever justify, no matter how great it was. The gentlemen continued to cut and ring up my selections, chatting all the while about how beautiful everything was. Out of the corner of my eye, that piece of gorgeous kept calling to me, causing me to shoot wistful glances it's way.
"How much is it normally?" I asked, just out of curiosity.
"I think that one is $99 a yard. That piece is about a yard and a half."
Gulp. Now it was a great deal, even at $40. Could I justify it now? Could I really spend that much money on a piece of fabric, when there was no guarantee that I would be able to make a profit? No, I could not. I resigned myself to leave it there. Leave it where it was, it was just not meant to be. As he finished ringing up the rest of my fabrics and trims, I resolutely made no eye contact with that piece. Well, maybe just one look. Oh god, look at it just sitting there, it's so pretty!
Frenchie Ruffles, above, The Moustache to the left.
"I'll give it to you for twenty." Came the voice from
behind the counter, who had obviously caught me sneaking glances that way.
"Sold!" Before I could even think, the word was out of my mouth. Yippee! A great deal on a breathtaking piece of fabric. My mind was already spinning with ideas of what I could do with it.
And thus, the Frenchie collection was born.