In 2018, I fell in love.
It was sudden, completely unexpected, and, as with all great love affairs, I knew almost immediately that this was The One.
The object of my affection? A house. Obviously.
Now, I had a list. Of course I did. Walk in closet. Finished basement. Fenced in yard. Not negotiable.
But you see, finding a house is rather like thrifting. You go in with a list and come out with something you never knew you needed.
And how, you ask, did I stumble across my true love? Well, stumble might not be exactly how it happened. My lease was ending (rather abruptly and with very little regard for my feelings), and I was facing the rather inconvenient possibility of having nowhere to live. Naturally, I handled it with the calm, measured temperament for which I am so widely known.
I signed up for alerts from every house-hunting app in existence. Not daily. Not hourly. Immediate. I was, in every sense of the word, ready to buy. And then, one glorious afternoon, my phone buzzed.
And there it was on my screen. Bright. Charming. Cozy. Beautiful. The floors were gleaming, the light was streaming, and the kitchen island was the longest I had ever seen!
Within sixty seconds (okay, maybe forty-five), I was on the phone with the listing agent.
“Hello!” I said brightly. “I’m calling about the house!”
There was a pause. She sounded surprised, which was fair, considering she had apparently only just pressed the button to make the listing live. I booked a showing for the next day, before anyone else could see it too.
The moment I stepped inside, I knew…The floors were indeed gleaming, and the light was endlessly streaming. And while the kitchen island length had been slightly exaggerated and the closets were designed with the idea of only having three outfits and one practical pair of shoes, the bedrooms were petite, with charmingly sloped ceilings that gave them loads of character (provided you didn’t insist on standing upright). And the fireplace! A magnificent creation framed with a facade of large gray stones, with the sort of storybook charm I find utterly impossible to resist. I could already see myself curled up beside a crackling fire with a wonderful book, a mug of hot chocolate, tucked between a cashmere blanket and my two dogs and cat, all piled around me.
I could look past all the imperfections. Because you know that feeling? You’re browsing quite innocently, with absolutely no intention of buying anything, when suddenly, there it is. A delicious little something tucked between a collection of things that have clearly seen better days.
Perhaps it’s a vintage Fendi handbag with a few scuffs in the leather, but the most exquisite clasp and stitching you’ve ever laid eyes on. Or a Chanel tweed coat with a missing gold button and slight snag in the hem, but with the most flattering cut, and stunning hand-stitched seams.
You pick it up. You turn it over. You inspect every little imperfection, all the while becoming increasingly convinced that you’ve just discovered the find of the century.
And then comes the most terrifying thought of all. What if someone else finds it? Suddenly, you’re clutching it to your chest, looking suspiciously at the woman browsing three feet away, who has shown absolutely no interest in your discovery but is nevertheless beginning to feel like a serious threat.
Naturally, once I’d seen this house, well, the situation became rather urgent. Someone else might fall in love with it, or be sitting beside my fireplace, drinking hot chocolate, in my living room!
Absolutely not. Clearly, extraordinary measures were required.
So, I did the only sensible thing I could think of. I wrote a letter and poured my heart onto the page, explaining how much I adored their home and how I would cherish it just as they had. It was less an offer letter and more a marriage proposal.
And to my astonishment, they accepted.
Of course, I soon discovered that my charming little house had a few more quirks than advertised. But nothing a little patience, a lot of love, and an absolutely horrifying credit card statement couldn’t fix. (Honestly, what are credit cards for if not emergencies?) I made it mine. Just like that scuffed handbag that needed some TLC.
Which brings me back to that list that we all make for ourselves when we are searching for something. The one with all the requirements and must-haves. There’s nothing wrong with knowing what you want. But sometimes, in our determination to find everything on the list, we overlook the things that aren’t so easily measured. The feeling you get when you walk through the front door. The little voice that whispers, I could be happy here.
My house never claimed to be perfect. But it made ordinary days a little lovelier and cold days a little cozier, even with the questionable closets that could barely hold my collection of handbags and shoes (and yes EVERY girl deserves a collection) .
So if you happen to stumble upon something that makes your heart skip a beat, even if it’s missing a few things on your list, perhaps don’t walk away quite so quickly. Because someone else might come along and snatch it up. And we simply cannot have that.
Some things are simply too good to leave to chance.
Until next time,
The Girl in the Yellow Coat
