Mid-Century Goodness

Who hates the 1950s?

There is hardly a modern decade that has produced such iconic furniture as this beloved era. The atomic influence, the sleek lines, the Danish modern juggernaut, the way even cheapo items can look elegant...nothing beats this decade for design, in my humble (or not so humble) opinion.

Which is why I have succeeded in convincing my husband over the years to purchase gently used, not so comfortable mid-century furniture to adorn our living and dining rooms. We have the long and low sofa and loveseat set, the crazy green gondola chair, a striking marble-topped credenza, and the requisite formica table and restaurant-style chairs. Husband has sworn to me that the next sofa we purchase will be new and comfortable. It's everything I can do to persuade him away from something puffy. And I will do everything.

So when we got married recently and became the owners of way, way more stuff than we ever thought we needed or could use, we found ourselves in need of a china hutch. I suppose a cabinet or rack might have done the trick, but who can go wrong with a display case combined with a storage area? What more could you ask for?

We decided to focus our future antiquing efforts on the acquisition of a hutch. We hadn't settled on a mid-century hutch, but that's what I had in mind. And wouldn't you know Mr. New Sofa himself found it in the darndest of places: a down-at-the-heels thrift store. Husband had wandered into the store in search of a single fork to use at his studio. He took a photo of the hutch and emailed it to me:


The next morning, we were at the store, determined to snag the piece before the vintage-resale hounds swooped in and stole it. And it's in near-perfect condition. Even the lights in the hutch work, casting a beautiful light onto our new collection of modern white china.

(By the way, it bears mentioning that there are so many things about this post that I could never have imagined myself caring about a mere ten years ago whilst I was considering, among many other nefarious contemplations, where my next piercing would reside and whether I could still work my job with a full-sleeve tattoo. This is not just a matter of growing old. It's a matter of growing soft. I rather like soft, thanks.)

So here's a picture of the hutch in it's natural habitat:


Ah, the beauty.