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Me Hanging Off of a dumster in New Orleans.JPG

From warm summer afternoons in my grandfather's cedar-scented attic in Connecticut, plucking through his vast and varied collection of auction acquisitions--to being tucked into the corner of my childhood bedroom with a bottle of whiteout carefully brushing out the scuffs on my most treasured white ballet flats, I have always found the process of discovery and renewal to be deeply rewarding.

As far back as I can remember, I have had a passion for finding and reimaging discarded treasures. Over the years as I have moved about the world, I have managed to furnish my various homes with collections of classy curb finds, committing to memory trash pick-up schedules for the most coveted pockets of town. I have been known to trot around a city carting home bits and pieces I have spotted on my quest like an expectant mamma bird eagerly crafting a new nest. I once ambled 20 New York City blocks, in high-heeled boots, carrying a solid wooden coffee table over my head. Too good to pass up and too awkward to squeeze onto a city bus, I proudly walked that beauty home, flashing a confident smile to all the curious onlookers. A week after she got her little makeover, aglow with newfound confidence, she was elegantly serving up hors d'oeuvres at my holiday party.

Whether something calls for a deep clean or a dramatic makeover, I am a fierce advocate for second chances--utilizing my various tools: paints, papers, stencils, unique hardware, transfers, etc., to help facilitate transformations.

 

Gifted, thrifted, or found; upcycling pre-loved treasures and helping them to write a brave new chapter is an unparalleled pleasure for me.

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