from the source

A customer called the other day to tell me that he’d purchased a few root stools that had some small cracks in them. While I mentally prepared to give an apology and search for the correct forms, the guy asked whether wood putty would be appropriate or not. We then had a quick conversation about the wood putty vs. sawdust & glue versus simply letting it be, and then I was thanked for my time. (as an aside, I don’t think I’ve ever found a conversation involving woodworking or wood worthy of being thanked, those are conversations I enjoy!) At the time, it merely seemed like a nice conversation to start my workday, but when coupled with someone who was passing through inquiring about a place where they could buy a replacement tube for a record player; it started me wondering why we’re culturally resistant to fixing the things we have? I visit this subject more often because at From the Source, we’re confronted with materials and pieces that are meant to be kept for a long time, yet we design and build full with the knowledge that over time, furniture shows its age, needs an occasional touch up, or in some cases, just to get fixed.

Mostly, though, we seem to shop for things that we know we’re not going to keep around, especially if they get nicked, cut, rip, or dent. We’re no longer taught to value and appreciate everyday longevity or to recognize the wear and tear of life as a positive. Yes, we all have that particular item that we’ve had since (insert your year here). We all keep books, leather jackets, china, and that old something or other that “what’s his face” gave us years ago. We value antiques out of sentimentalism, prestige, because of charm, and resale value. Of course, we celebrate the longevity of marriages, careers (though not as much anymore), and friendships, but they somehow seem sweeter because they’re outside the norm.

The bulk of life for us now seems to be the endless search for the new, the fresh, what’s shiny, and whatever comes next. Friendster, MySpace, Facebook, and now Twitter, all serve to hurtle us toward the increasingly immediate. Yet, the faster we move, and the newer it has to be, the more we look for a connection or a back story that used to be just part of the hum of life. J Crew used it famously in their mid-90’s catalogs, J Peterman’s famous products with back story was mocked on Seinfeld. Ikea and West Elm both use it to infuse products with stories that products just seemed to have. Now, there’s the renegade craft fairs, knitting clubs, local repair shops (like Kill Devil Hill here in Greenpoint that’ll repair your favorite pair of jeans for cheap) ReadyMade magazine, This Old House, and tons of other smaller companies like Nightwood NY in Ft. Greene and Le Grenier around the corner from us (and hopefully the crew here at From the Source), who are all trying to champion the idea that maybe, just maybe, there should be a shift toward a large scale appreciation of things that age with time, can be salvaged, or were passed down from someone’s great aunt. Hopefully, we’ll start to fix what we own more than we create empty narratives for products we know we’ll never have long enough for them to have narratives of their own.