I bought my Ikea Malm dresser – you know, the one you also own (or perhaps just used to own if you are better than I am at replacing college furniture with grownup furniture) – thirteen years ago. Since the day my father first assembled it in my West Hollywood apartment (because my skill at Ikea assembly begins and ends with these chairs), it has been driven across the country twice, and lived in six different homes.
I think it has, as Ms. Kondo would say, “fulfilled its function.” (And yes, I’m totally still going with my KonMari-ing; did the lingerie drawers the other night and said good-bye to a massive bag of stuff, including pretty much everything that I got from my bachelorette party because…let’s just say that strappy, garter-y squares of lace are not in my vocabulary at the moment.)
I’ve been on the hunt for a really good (preferably antique) replacement for my dresser awhile now, and when we went to the Treasure Island Flea Market last weekend with my friend Elise and her family, this was the one thing I was keeping my eye out for.
First, though, we plopped down in the sun to eat pad thai and bacon fries (you heard me: bacon fries) while the kids played game after game of corn hole.
And then we walked through the market, browsing through globes and instruments and kettles and such…and I turned a corner and saw it: An amazing 1930s wood-inlay wardrobe, with wrought-iron handles, a built-in shoe rack, and nary a piece of particleboard in sight. For less money than I paid for my Ikea. And that’s not even including the value I place on not having to assemble the damn thing myself, which is considerable.
Good bye, Malm. I would say that I will miss you, but I will not.
(Some cool Art Deco pieces I found around the Internet are below, if you’re in the market for this kind of a vibe.)