An Ode to Blue

When I was in college, living in my first apartment by myself, I started collecting blue and white porcelain. It began as a small basket for potpourri (did you not potpourri in 1999?) or a small dish for earrings and change. Now, in 2012, it could be described as a full-fledged addictive behavior. It's in almost every room of the house, save the boys' room and upstairs bathroom. Although, the purchases have been curbed since we bought a house and I spend money on rolls of drapery fabric and paint for furniture. And because they closed Bombay and Company, which was like the FAO Schwartz for people who loved blue and white.

There have been a couple borderline obsessive pursuits to collect it. My friend Arkansas Emily had two sets of blue china monkeys when we met in 2003, and the search for a set of my own "hear/see/speak no evil" monkeys went bicoastal for severl years, with searches extending from the DC area to my mother in Louisiana, her mother in Arkansas and the high-end decorator shops in southern California, until that prized California Aunt sent me some for Christmas in 2006. The monkey fondness expanded from there and now when I see a blue china monkey, I buy it. No questions asked. 

In truth, some of the blame must be placed upon Arkansas Emily, for not only was the family torment for the monkeys inspired by her, but I also successfully scoured the internets for blue china dog bookends after not absconding with hers one spring visit.

I also left a store with Corey once cradling a blue china lamp, having conned him into purchasing it for me by declaring that leaving the store sans lamp would mean I would never be happy again. This was during the courting phase. He would not succumb to that appeal today. In fact, he regular threatens to take a hammer to my collection.

I now have almost one hundred pieces of it, and I say that with more shame than pride. I get rid of it when I absolutely have to can. I install pieces in my sister's apartment when she needs a little something. It does not need to be ALL you see when you come in our home, so at least one box of it is packed and stored upstairs. When I buy a new piece, I retire another. I no longer buy animals or candlesticks, but a good planter or jar priced as a steal from an antique mall is just too much serendipity for me to walk away from.

Why do I not get rid of it instead of letting it take up valuable storage space in our cottage dwelling, you ask? Because this is my starter home, and one day I hope to have a bigger house offering built-in shelving and large walls for the prominent featuring of hutch-type furniture. And in those shelves and behind those glass doors I endeavor to cluster my collection.

At night when I cyberwander around Pinterest, I am drawn to pictures of this porcelain candy, and I now have an entire board devoted to it.

From prettystuff.tumblr.com

From 1.bp.blogspot.com

From paloma81.blogspot.com

From prettystuff.tumblr.com

From thatschic.net

From chinoiseriechic.blogspot.com

 Are you tired of it yet? Do you feel sorry for Corey?