I have started to wonder lately about my tendency to hang random things on walls. Things that really shouldn’t be there and, if I were of sounder mind, probably wouldn’t be. It all started with a beautiful old mahogany wardrobe that we were forced to buy many years ago when we moved to England from Canada. We found ourselves in a Victorian house and were mystified as to how people managed without wardrobes of any sort. Where did people hang their clothes, we wondered? After all, we had arrived from the land of built-in closets. We bought a rather lovely, but completely inadequate wardrobe and resorted to leaving most of our clothes in the hanging boxes they’d been packed in. Which was quite convenient because we moved to Germany two years later. The Germans know a thing or two about storage and we had discovered built-in wardrobe heaven.
Eventually we moved back to the UK and into a 1960s house with heaps of places to hang our clothes. The now-redundant wardrobe was turned into an open shelving unit. But what was to be done with the mirrored door? Most people might have come to a different conclusion, but I decided it should be hung on the wall. In fact, it’s a very useful and distinctive full-length mirror – admittedly with a handle on it, but everything has its drawbacks. Plus, it cost nothing. That mirror is now hanging on the wall in our latest house, yet another place with no wardrobes. We have come full circle.
I also have a vintage 1970s bamboo headboard attached to the wall behind my desk. Why, you may ask? Essentially because we no longer have a suitable bed and I really like it. How I made the leap of imagination from bed to wall, I’m not sure, but once I had the idea in my mind nothing was going to dissuade me. Granted, it is a little odd, but I’m very attached to it.
I bet you’re worried that the outside of the house has been neglected, but I can put your mind at rest. There’s a metal gate on the front wall. I found it in the garden attached to a post, but leading nowhere, and knew immediately what had to be done. I gave it a fresh coat of black paint and now it’s hanging in pride of place right by our front door, ready to leap into service as a trellis. Or not.
The added joy of my wall hangings is how thrifty they are. The wardrobe door mirror was no longer needed, the headboard was £10 from eBay and the gate was a found object. It’s all very satisfying and as the author Arnold Bennett wrote: “Much ingenuity with a little money is vastly more profitable and amusing than much money without ingenuity.” Although he was a man of great imagination, I’d be surprised if he had old gates and headboards in mind.