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| picture your yarn here |
Okay, not this exact shelf, which is the Delano Etagere from Currey and Company, and is both larger and less expensive than the life-changing one. The one I saw was polished brass with glass shelves and stood the exact width of the customized (aka narrowized) daybed that's going into my office. I looked at this shelf and immediately saw it from my imagined place on the daybed with a notepad on my knee, standing against the creamy-white wall of my office and looking clean and crisp and empty.
Even emptier than it did in the store.
And at the same time I could imagine it with fabric folded neatly on it, waiting to be sewn, and with baskets of yarn for knitting... but only on the lower shelves, invisible beyond the tall side-arm of the daybed.
But that is so weird, because normally I imagine quaintly crammed shelves in white-painted hutchlike furniture at the end of the daybed. Crowded, cluttered, colourful shelves full of vintage finds, not lean shiny bars supporting empty glass shelves.
In a way I blame the daybed for this vision, and others like it. I have always wanted a chaise (plus, of course, a lifestyle that would allow me to relax on one) ever since I was a little girl and saw the pale blue velvet one in my aunt and uncle's bedroom. I mean, who has a sofa in the bedroom?? Only very lucky people, that's who. But a chaise seemed like such an extravagance for me personally - wicked, really, right up until Pete agreed that a daybed was a perfectly practical solution for my tiny office and, furthermore, that we should buy the one that's sitting in our living room today and waiting to move back to the house with us. It's been here for weeks now and the thrill hasn't worn off - everybody calls dibs on the daybed first in spite of the amazing red recliners we bought last year.
I fear I'm ruined for anything but luxury.
(but not completely, because that etagere I saw is really, really expensive, and apparently I still have limits.)
Still: it was eye-opening. For a start, I realize now I want a fairly airy office, rather than one jam-packed with all my fabric and yarn. All this time I've dreamed of having it all in one place, and it turns out what I really want is for it to be out of sight unless I'm working with it. The luxury of no visible to-do list.
So the question is, where should I put it?
There's almost no random storage space in our house-to-be for my supplies. There's likely to be a little extra room in the gap under the stairs where I was going to put our suitcases and Christmas decorations, and there will probably be some floorspace in the laundry room for a little cabinet. It's a given that I'll be putting some yarn into the living room cabinetry, but there's not much of that. I could stash some in the attic, or on the top shelves of our kitchen cabinets now that we're going straight up to the ceiling with them. I might even be able to sneak some into the front hall closet, or the tops of the dining room cabinets. I guess it doesn't matter as long as I get to keep what I have and buy a little more yarn now and then.
But...
Where is it reasonable to store fabric and yarn if not in the room you are fortunate enough to get for your very own self?
If you were keeping your crafty habits in check, and you could choose your ideal location, would you keep it where you sleep?
Where you sit?
Where you eat?
Where you keep your out of season footwear?
(okay, that might be a little unappealing.)
Or would you keep it where you work, even if it makes that space so cramped you have to go work somewhere else?
hmmmm.
I might have to think about this some more, behind the scenes while I try to figure out the best way to create a 16" deep, 70" long desk I will love working at. Yep, nothing but fun here at no-knitting Hugs!
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