Picker with a Vision

As the saying goes, One man's trash is another man's treasure. I subscribe to this but with the caveat that in order for something to be treasure, it generally has to be made a little less trashy. It is currently somewhat fashionable to be a "picker" i.e. one who takes other people's cast-offs and brings them back to market, usually to antique dealers. The tv show American Pickers showcases this lifestyle.

I, however, am a more personal picker, meaning I keep the things I pick for my personal use. I have found perfectly good items on the curb on garbage day, which is quite a common occurrence in NY. One of my finds was this quilt rack, found in perfect condition on the sidewalk in Brooklyn on a walk home from the park with my friend Jeannie and her kids. Her husband thought I was nuts when I picked it up and took it with me, but all it needed was a good cleaning. Now it's used in my bedroom for the extra blankets that I always need.

Another great find was this table:

Now you must understand, this table looked NOTHING like this when I found it outside my apartment. First, it was brown. Second, it was decorated in a very cheesy Cowboys and Indians motif suitable for a little boys room circa 1957. By which I mean: the top was cushioned and upholstered in beige pleather that was attached by twine looped through holes drilled at one inch intervals in the top and the multicolored plastic knob had feathers and beads hanging from it. Ick! I wish I had taken a before picture, but this was prior to my desire to document such things.

I felt the table had potential. It was a small enough that I thought I could use it in my bathroom to hold toilet paper in its cabinet and maybe a candle on top. So I brought it home and proceeded to pull off all the cheesiness.

Then I filled the holes with wood putty, sanded, primed and painted it a glossy white. I figured I was done. I was telling a friend of Mr. B's all about it (she likes to do a little dumpster diving herself) and she said I wasn't a picker, I was a picker with a vision. Hmm, I liked it.

I revisited the table. The painted-over knob looked weird, so I thought maybe I'd silver leaf it. But again, my silver leaf fear caused me to procrastinate this for some time. Well, a year went by and I moved. It was time.

So finally I silver leafed the knob! Then I painted the top a glossy black, leaving the rest of the table glossy white. I really like it now. Of course, I don't know where to put it, since I have a different bathroom now, with plenty of room for the toilet paper.