Travel Rogue

November 01, 2005

Bauhaus Boo!

When you hit your thirties, a lot happens. Lots of milestones. I met Dave's sister yesterday, and she was remarkable. Every bit the strong, witty, warm woman I was hoping she'd be. The kind of woman you'd want as your sister, mentor and friend. And what was even greater was that I could relate to her as a person, and not just as "Dave's Sister." We bonded first over omlettes at Pauline's. If you haven't been there yet, get the hell off your tush and go. The best coffee in Edgewater. And, if there's a wait, the owner comes out with cups of freshly squeezed orange juice, apologies and jokes for everyone. After that, we headed up to Evanston to drop Jennifer off at an appointment. Alas, she was an hour early. I suggested we hit the Domicile Outlet, a trip I had on my list for the past two years. Ever resourceful, Jennifer called and got the address and we were on our way. The storefront is tiny and set back off the street, but the first thing we saw was a beautiful, stitched leather chair. It winked, I sat. Then I got the feeling that there was something inside calling me. Apparently it was calling Jennifer too, as she scampered through the door ahead of me. Damn that woman! She charged right, I charged left, poor Dave was left shaking his head. As I had already disappeared, he went to find his sister. The third couch I saw sang my name. Structured yet soft, minimalist yet inviting, it was everything I envisioned. A warm neutral microsuede, dark wood trim with no overly decorative ornateness, just simple, carved curves. Pillows that sink in just enough to snuggle you without swallowing you. I was astounded. I ran off to find Dave and Jennifer. Dave was lost, probably lusting over some leather chair, Jennifer was looking forlorn. She had found the couch she already owned, but not the matching loveseat she was seeking. We went over to look at the couch. I sympathized the missed match. As we turned around, I heard a sharp gasp. Right in front of us was the matching loveseat. On sale. Now, how many women hop up and down in front of a piece of furniture? Not many, and in that instant, I knew I loved Jennifer as much as I love any of my dearest friends. We were cut of the same fabric. Dave, drawn by the excited, high-pitched giggles, came over to inspect and revive us in case of hyperventilation. He was happy that Jennifer had managed a $600 purchase. He was not aware of my own impending $1200 purchase. Dave and I went over to take one more look at the microsuede beauty. I plopped down once again to show that it was domesticated. He sat down next to me, and wouldn't you know it, the plump cushions, I swear, nudged him even closer to me. I was sold. Cut to chase, I purchased it, and it was delivered today.

p.s. The movers just came by with the beautiful bauhaus. The chaise came first, and I was almost in tears seeing it in my living room. They scurried downstairs to fetch the couch before I completely broke down and forgot to tip them. A few minutes later, a knock at the door. It was a three-foot high skeleton holding a plastic pumpkin. I jumped at least two feet in the air, and the costumed kid was reduced to giggles. As were the janitor, the kid's dad, and my two movers behind him. It's Halloween, and I'd forgotten for the moment, that I'd volunteered to hand out candy. After he stopped laughing, and while I was shoveling two handfuls of candy into his trick-or-treat stash to cover up my embarassment, he said, "Hey, your place smells good!" I was trying a new roasted pumpkin soup recipe and my whole apartment smelled of pumpkin, bacon and onion. A warm, fall smell. What kid is going to be distracted from free chocolate by a savory smell? I tell you, that seven-year-old kid's going to be some gourmand when he grows up.

Posted by carolyn at November 1, 2005 09:55 AM

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