How Second Sitting Started
It was a crisp autumn evening, just about dusk, and we were out for our daily walk through my mother’s neighborhood.
We chatted casually about the events of our day, and as we rounded the corner, we spied a man dragging a beat up antique gold chair, struggling to get it to the curb for the trash pickup the following morning. I could feel my mom tense as we approached, wondering if I was going to embarrass her by asking if I could have the chair. She begged me not to breathe a word to the man. But as I got closer and closer, the fine bones and gentle lines of the channel back, the detailed carved claw and ball foot reached out and grabbed me, and I couldn’t help but fall in love right there on the curb, that dilapidated chair crying for a new home and I yelled out to the man and asked if I could bring my car back and save his chair from the dump. My mother slumped in humiliation of her daughter picking through her neighbor’s cast-offs. We quickly finished our laps through the streets and I race-walked home to get my car and retrieve my new prized possession.
It was pitiful. Torn, stained, shoved, neglected, maybe even drooled upon by a sleeping baby in grandma’s arms. I took it home and sat on the couch looking at it across the room, wondering what it was trying to whisper to me sitting here, in my little townhouse. In the bright light of my living room, I saw right through it and knew it had a purpose for me in it’s life.
Previously in Dallas…
A few weeks earlier I had begun making plans for a new adventure I had been pondering for a while. My friend had moved to Dallas and asked me to come down and help her decorate her new house. When I arrived, she took me first to some resale stores, where we discovered all kinds of new treasures, someone else’s cast-offs, and like new display samples for the Dallas Market. The week I was there, we never did actually make it to the market or any new furniture stores. I was spell-bound by these mysterious little havens of used furniture boutiques, and before I headed back to St. Louis I had decided this was what I was going to do.
Back in St. Louis…
Thus began the new adventure of resale home furnishings consignment. It didn’t have a name yet, but the ideas were brewing.
At a dinner party one evening, after several bottles of wine and lots of babbling of my new adventure, someone asked what the name of my store would be. I hadn’t come up with the right one yet, so it became a brainstorming of the loose tongues, nouns and names spewing from every corner of the room, and after several minutes the quiet chef blurted out, “It must be something unique, a play on words, like…”Second Sitting”. The room fell silent while the guests rolled the words over in their heads.
And suddenly, the name was announced, “Yes! Second Sitting!!!” Toasts were made, glasses clinked, and the rest of the evening became a blur as I dreamed of the newly refurbished chair sitting proudly in it’s new home.