Our apartment is really beige, and I’m always looking for ways to brighten it up. Since I would rather insert red-hot railway spikes under my toenails than paint the walls, I thought a new bedspread would be just the thing to add a bit of colour. So I started cruising the thrift stores for chenille bedspreads, which I remembered fondly from the 1970s.
But I kept coming up empty-handed. Apparently chenille bedspreads, like anything else more than 30 years old, had become collectible. After about a month and a half of looking, I decided to try eBay, and found tons. The problem was, the nicest of them were going for sometimes a few hundred bucks. (Interestingly, ones that had a peacock design were going for the most. I have a thing for peacocks myself, but was not willing to spend lavishly on a bloody bedspread, which I knew would end up spending most of its time balled up on the floor, as we rarely make our bed). I eventually found a nice green one with a white swirly design on eBay, and got it for $35. Shipping brought the total price to $60. I was chuffed, and excited for it to arrive.
One week went by, then two weeks, then three. I started to get concerned. And then, one day I went to the Sally Ann on 12th and found, lo and behold, a chenille bedspread that was way nicer than the one I bought off eBay, all bright yellow with baskets of flowers on it. And it was only $7.99! Hot damn! Suddenly paying $60 for a chenille bedspread seemed downright exorbitant. I felt like I’d been had.
I schlepped it around the store for half an hour, agonizing over whether or not I should buy it as a) M and I are really trying to cut down on our shopping habit; b) all our storage space is used up and c) we supposedly already had a chenille bedspread on its way. After much wringing of hands, I hung the bedspread back on the hanger (albeit wrong side out, so it would look really ugly to anyone who happened to glance at it). I left the store feeling proud of myself for having resisted buying it, and thought M would be proud, too.
I get home and tell him, and he looks at me all serious and goes, why didn’t you buy it? I say, I thought you’d be proud of me. And he goes, yeah, but $7.99 … I mean, come on. Then I got all flustered and wanted to go back to the store immediately, but it was already closed. And that was a Saturday, and I’d gone early. Surely it would no longer be there. The only thing I could do was go on the following Monday after work. And then I became convinced the original chenille bedspread had for sure been lost in the mail. It wasn’t fair: I went from practically rolling in chenille bedspreads to having zero.
When Monday came, I went to the Sally Ann and … it was there! Wrong side out and everything. I gleefully gathered it into my arms, paid for it and carried it home. If fit over our queen bed perfectly, and definitely brightened up our boring old beige bedroom. And the eBay bedspread? Turns out it did get lost in the mail after all. The seller refunded us the money. That’s what I call a happy ending.
(And yes, our new chenille bedspread does indeed spend most of its time balled up on the floor, as we rarely make our bed.)