August 2008

I’ve been reading an advance copy of Chicago journalist Ed Zotti’s The Barn House: Confessions of an Urban Rehabber, which hits bookstores in September, and I have to say it’s making me feel a lot better about the rehabbing of my own house (his process, complete with not only ugly additions built by previous owners, but burglars, sounds painful). Zotti, who edits the syndicated column “Straight Dope” that appears in the Chicago Reader, chronicles his woes with great humor and detail (sometimes a bit too much detail about things like electrical wiring if you ask me; on the other hand, lots of fun footnotes with tidbits of Chicago history). It’s worth picking up if you want to commiserate and chuckle at Zotti’s dry wit.

—Gina Bazer 

Walking down Superior Street the other night, I spotted a shapely red fiberglass chair in a window across the street. I crossed Superior to get a better look and saw more colorful fiberglass seating and several other midcentury modern pieces, arrayed amid stacks of rugs. I was intrigued but left hanging: The store was closed, and there was no visible signage. So I walked by again the next day, saw a familiar face inside, and suddenly it all made sense. Juhm, the man with one name behind the recently shuttered White on Kinzie Street, has resurfaced to sell his reproduction classics at Generations Rug Gallery (200 W. Superior St.). He’s scaled back the offerings from his White days but also has some beautiful new pieces in wood—stools in the style of Finn Juhl, an incredible daybed in homage to Hans Wegner, and sleek modern planters. I’ll continue to save my pennies for the real thing, but I’m glad Juhm is back and that instant gratification remains an option. Store hours are Mon.-Sat., 10 a.m. to 7p.m., or by appointment: 312-222-0922.

—Megan Duffy Rostan
 

I’ve been going on and on for a while about how I’d like to bid on something at an auction. I’m scared of them for some reason—even eBay! So the other day after spotting the above table in the catalog for Leslie Hindman’s August 13 Marketplace auction, I mustered up the courage to go for it. OK, to be honest, a coworker of mine—an auction vet—shoved the phone-bid form in my hand and basically forced me to fax in the darn thing. I didn’t have much to lose. The estimated value of the table was $40 to $80. My max was $50.
    “They’ll probably call you and say, ‘We have an opening bid of $70,’ and then you can just say, ‘No thanks,’” my coworker said encouragingly. She also gave me a tip: “Don’t choose a round number like $50 or $100 for your limit; make it $55 or $110, because a lot of people have a round number in mind, and will drop out at that point. You’ll be mad at yourself if you stop at $50 and someone else gets it for just a few dollars more.”
     The next morning at 10:30, a polite gentleman from Leslie Hindman called, and from there on, it’s all a blur. I think he confirmed that I was indeed Gina Bazer, that I wished to bid by phone, that my lot would soon be up. In the background, I heard voices. It was the bidding process for the item preceding mine--“We have $400. Do we hear $425?” I thought, forget it, I’m out of this game. But then my turn came, and the nice man said, “We’re opening at $40. Would you like to bid $40?” And I said yes. There was some rumbling, and then suddenly I heard, “Congratulations. Someone from our accounting department will contact you later in the day.” What? That was it? The table was mine? I felt like I had won on a game show, which is exactly how my friend told me she feels when she gets her pick. The other nugget of info she shared a tad too late—since I was the only bidder, I probably could have gotten that table for $20! Oh, well. Bid and learn.

–Gina  Bazer