Sometime in the last six months someone who volunteers at the Oregon Food Bank blogged a terrific list of stuff that is best to donate, and what NOT to donate. (Sugary cereals were not high on the “wanted” list.)
Has anyone seen this list? We have an ongoing food donation program at my office, and we are looking to do theme months, but I would like to make sure that the stuff we’re donating is stuff that is most needed by the food bank.

In May, I picked up a bright and gaudy vintage daybed with the original upholstery from a couple in North Portland via Craigslist. They were asking $150, but we negotiated the price down by a third. As Aaron and I picked it up to load in the truck and dust started floating out of the cushions, I wondered deep down if I hadn’t made a HUGE mistake in paying $100 for it.
As soon as we got it home I dashed out to the store to rent one of those upholstery cleaning machines. A couple of hours and a viewing of Strange Brew later, the cushions and mattress were damp but decidedly cleaner than they were when I got home. The bottle of anti-allergy upholstery freshener didn’t hurt, either, but the piece still had the smell of something that had been stored in a basement for too long. The cushions weren’t all that comfortable, and when the bed was laid out flat one mattress was decidedly higher (and less comfortable) than the other side. It also needed to be placed against a wall or another sturdy object when used for seating, and the cushions were prone to slip and reveal the slightly rusted aluminum tension frame they leaned against when someone sat down.
But damn, it sure looked pretty in my vintage-inspired colorfully decorated flat!
A few houseguests slept on it, people sat on it at parties, but the layout of my living room furniture always seemed impractical and awkward with the inclusion of the day bed. I finally gave up and posted it back on Craigslist for $75, but was willing to go as low as $50 just to get someone to take it out of my apartment and give it a good home, slight fabric tears and all. Another couple snatched it up for the full asking price, and I was happy to have more space in my living room.
A month later a friend sent me a link, and sure enough, the daybed was back on the market, this time with an asking price of $200. I giggled and figured whoever would pay that much for that sorry thing was a fool. Ha.
Last week, another friend spotted it in the window at Hollywood Vintage on Sandy, so this weekend we went to the store to check it out.
As a heads up, I’ve never been a huge fan of Hollywood Vintage or its sister store Home Ec because their prices are usually twice as much as I’m willing to pay for anything, and getting stuff at a vintage specialty store takes away from the thrill of the hunt. Plus, you can’t get a good story out of the piece that way. “I found this in a dusty out-of-the-way shop while I was on vacation in Madrid, and had a hell of a time purchasing it because of the language barrier,” sounds much better than “I got this from the vintage shop down the street.”
Anyway, there is no doubt that my former daybed is now in the window for sale at Hollywood Vintage. We looked it over and recognized weak sections of the fabric. Asking price? $495. I couldn’t believe it. They didn’t repaint the aluminum frame or make any repairs to the fabric. In fact, they removed my staples from the dust ruffle so the fabric is no longer secured to the couch. I think the trick is that because it is on display in the window, anyone who is interested in it may not have a chance to sit on it before they buy it. Once they get it home, they’ll be sorry, unless they only want it for cosmetic reasons. That daybed is no longer fully functional and way past its prime. Original upholstery be damned, that piece of furniture deserves retirement.
Some friends suggested I go back in there and confront the snooty salespeople about their price gouging, or tell tales in the store on a busy day about people who got sick on it when it was in my home. I don’t think I’m going to do anything, but the whole situation sure makes me chuckle. One of the cardinal rules of collectibles and antiques is that people will only pay what something is worth to them, and I feel sorry for the poor SOB who looks at that daybed and thinks they’re getting a great deal.