This is, far and away, the best thing I’ve ever found in a thrift store.
This is my boyfriend, Max. Isn’t he precious? I know, you don’t have to tell me.
Max is wonderful. He puts up with all the significant amount of crazy I have to offer with enthusiastic courtesy, and he’s far sweeter to me than I often deserve.
He supports my bad habits with panache, like helping me drag this bar cart off the street that is currently gathering dust in my kitchen (it looked cute in my old living room, I swear!).
He is a devoted Harry Potter enthusiast.
He got brains, too.
He is hilarious and kind and completely useless with tools and just the sort of person I want to come home to everyday. Turns out, I’ve conned him into thinking the same about me. Minus the tool thing, seeing as I’m all handy ‘n stuff.
So, Max officially moved in yesterday!
He brings with him an impressive dowry, including an A/C unit, several fans, and his Pratt desk from West Elm. (Which it turns out is very hard to photograph when it’s so bright out. I think I need camera lessons.)
And a KitchenAid Stand Mixer. I might only be in it for the mixer. Hello, my precious.
As a veteran blogger and trained artsy weirdo, Max doesn’t exactly take all of my decorating ideas and ideals lying down, especially since we have very different tastes. This is the boy who once had his apartment written about in the New York Times under the headline “Anything But White.” Moving in with me. Go fucking figure.
So not only is living with someone this way new to both of us, it’s also a huge exercise in loosening up our normally dictatorial, obsessively controlling approach to decorating and designing our spaces. But we’re good at compromising. The best at it when I get my way, which, to Max’s very trusting credit, is most of the time. And you know what? I’m really looking forward to it.
Welcome home, Max. I’m so glad you’re here.