I'm currently in a nesting phase. Rather than totally overwhelm myself with the vast furnishing updates needed to give our 133-year old the interior it deserves, I've started small and focused on the master bedroom first.
The master bedroom looks pretty good at this point. The only problem was that, no matter how good the new paint job, new art, and new quilt looked, there was still a view of my ass-ugly laundry basket upon entering the room. This had to be fixed.
Four years ago, I treated myself to a trash can that was made from metal. Don't my softlines deserve equal, if not better, treatment as empty packages of Sour Patch Kids and the switch-to-Cox-Internet mailings we receive daily?
I have a general rule of buying second hand if the item in question is not going to touch my boobs, butt, beav, bare feet, or bed. But basically any hamper I'd find second hand is going to either be as ugly as the current hamper, or rusty and haunted by the ghosts of mismatched socks.
Big box retailer it was.
I've been to Home Goods a few times with purchases and experiences that never merited a Yelp review. This most recent time, Home Goods had the same fucking hamper for less than half the price that I had just seen at Cost Plus World Market half an hour earlier. You bet I snapped that fucker up.
"You got a new laundry basket," commented by boyfriend. "That looks pretty sharp. Where'd that come from?"
"Home Goods," I replied. "It's like TJ Maxx but for house stuff," knowing that this explanation satisfied the subtext in his question of, "How much did you spend on that superfluous purchase? What's wrong with ugly plastic college dorm hampers?" He has his own rule, which I admit is admirable: use it until it breaks, then fix it and use it until it breaks again, rinse and repeat, then possibly consider a replacement.
What do you want me to tell you? Home Goods lives up to its parent company in that it sells shit the other big boxes couldn't move.
One thing I didn't like: I was waiting in line and a robot voice told me that register 1 was open. Like, seriously, did the checkout lady see me waiting and press a button? Is this corporate policy? Whatever happened to, "I can help whoever's next?" read more