The Riverside Press-Enterprise
Deleting decor
When beloved furnishings no longer work, save the memory but let the piece go
Today, I am going to try to lead by example, which is pretty funny as I am neither a leader nor a good example-setter. But as the hero of this story, I believe I am both. The lesson deals with getting rid of a cherished home furnishing that no longer serves you. Maybe it’s outdated. Maybe it takes up space you could put to better use. Maybe you’ve simply moved on.
In my case, it’s a large tapestry I bought while on a family vacation in France 25 years ago. We were visiting Rocamadour, an ancient town built into the side of a cliff. While we walked the cobbled streets, it started to rain, then pour. My little daughters and I took refuge in one of the many charming shops, while their father continued exploring the town with the only umbrella we’d brought. One look around and I thought, uh-oh: This is a store I could get lost in for hours, weeks even.
Every surface was stacked with fine French porcelain dishes, exquisite linens and tapestries. I swooned as I browsed. My daughters started to explore too, which I quickly saw would end badly. Reluctantly, I was steering them toward the door when the manager appeared and asked if we might like some hot chocolate. The girls lit up.
“And I think I have something else you might like,” said the manager, a marketing genius.
Next thing, the girls are sitting cross-legged on the floor in the corner of the small shop, each with a cup of steaming cocoa and between them a basket of soft, bright-eyed kittens. Does life get any better? Oh, it does, because I got the hour I needed to peruse the tapestries — and have the 5-by-7-foot wall hanging of Le Jardin de Bagatelle shipped home.
Fast forward to 2024. I looked at my dining room with fresh eyes and realized my tastes have changed. Yes, the tapestry takes me back to that charming rainy day in France, and yes, I’ve endowed the piece with sentimental meaning. But that is not a reason to cling. Here comes the tough love part. “Tapestry,” I said, holding its edges in my hands. “You and I have had a good run. We’ve shared a precious memory or two, but it’s time we said good-bye.”
Knowing that complacency is the enemy of progress, I acted. I called Carey Kuhl, a moving concierge who helps folks sell their nicer furnishings and gets a portion of the sale. A few days later, she rolled up to my house, and I rolled up Le Jardin de Bagatelle and put it in the back of her car.
She did some research to figure out its value on today’s market. She found the same tapestry for sale on an antique dealer’s site for 1450 Euros (about $1,575). She found another listed for $500, and another that sold at auction for just $50.
“Pricing is all over the place,” she said. “I can list it for whatever price you want, but I think under $500 is a good starting point.”
And she called a local French antique dealer she knew. Before she had even listed the item, the dealer offered $300. Recalling the saying “The first offer is your best offer,” I took it.
Going through all this made me think about the key reasons we cling — and how to debunk them. Maybe this will help you let go, too:
You don’t know what it’s worth >> Market value is discoverable. Kuhl likes to use the phone app Google Lens to find out what items are selling for on today’s market and where. In the used furniture market, let selling price, not listing price, guide you.
You want the item to go to someone who will appreciate it >> When you sell an item in the secondhand market, whether through an expert like Kuhl or on your own, you get the peace of mind of knowing it will go to someone who wants it. Facebook Marketplace makes selling used items easy, and Facebook groups like The Buy Nothing Project help you give items to those who will appreciate them.
You paid a lot of money for it >> I can’t remember what I paid for the tapestry, but I’m guessing between $800 and $1,000. That’s a lot of money, but I plan to use the money from the sale to buy a piece of art that better fits my life and style today.
It has a story >> Though irrational, endowing items with meaning is common. But when we sell or donate an item, we don’t give up our memories. Memories don’t live inside things; they live inside our hearts. I no longer have the tapestry, but the story of that rainy day in France with the cocoa and kittens remains.