The crafty "Trophy Wife"

I have been crafting for over twenty years and have had to endure the teasing of my friends and family when I have gone over the edge as we crafters often do. This is an essay describing one of those times. Oprah describes "Aha" moments. I have "UH-OH" moments.

The crafty "Trophy Wife"

There I was, a fairly new "Trophy Wife," living in Chicago and married to a manufacturer of trophy parts. It was the mid 1990s, and HGTV (Home and Garden Cable Television) was the daytime viewing choice for many a young homemaker. The trend in decorating was to recycle, refurbish, repurpose -- re-everything. If it had "re" as a prefix, you were designing with style.
I began to restore and decorate our "new" old Victorian house. I approached the "re" trend with gusto and created new out of old. I visited garage sales and trolled alleys looking for unearthed treasures, or a diamond in the rough.
I was fairly successful. (My husband did not agree.) I painted, nailed and sawed. I made a table out of an old ironing board, a planter out of a vintage barrel and a coat rack out of antique door knobs. My new creations filled our house and the mess took over my workshop (the basement). I was a woman obsessed. Then I accompanied my husband to an ARA (Awards Recognition Association) trade show.
It had been a few years since I had attended a show and as I (re)entered my husband's world, I saw the industry in a new light. These products that were meant to award and honor suddenly became tools in my decorating arsenal. I saw trophy cups as potential lamps, vases, waste baskets and apothecary jars. Ribbons that held metals became curtain tie backs and pillow trim in my imagination.
I wandered the aisles in a trance, imagining my "Decorating with Awards" TV Show. I envisioned a cable TV series, surprised that no one had thought of it before. "I could approach Award distributors and buy out all their retired stock," I thought, then dreamed; "This could be a (green) initiative. I could save the planet and simultaneously be the next Martha Stewart."
As I walked, I began to pick up samples. I found trophy columns to make shelves. "I could drill holes in Plexiglas…" My imagination cruised. I scooped up key chains to use as curtain hooks. I confiscated figurines to use as bookends. I considered the clocks to be used as clocks. My genius amazed even me.
Suddenly, I eyed a walnut plaque board and envisaged a table. A very small table… I spotted more obvious decorating ideas: a brass plaque plate as a snack tray and a small trophy cup as a drinking glass… My husband approached, startling me out of my trance. "What is all that stuff for?" he asked. For the first time in my life, I was pressed for words. I felt like Lucy Ricardo being caught by Ricky. "Lucy, you got some splanin' to do" Unlike Lucy, I did not cry.
I looked my husband in the eye and said, "Have you thought about using the trophy cups as vases?" "Are you out of your mind?" he replied. "You could buy five perfectly good vases for the price of these cups. These are very valuable. They already have a purpose and that is to award someone. Honey, put the samples back." My husband was unaware that he had just shattered my five-minute daydream.
I walked back down the aisles, returning the items, mourning my curtain hooks and bookends. My cable television career had ended before it began. I looked at all the products for the second time that day and "re"-realized their beauty and purpose. Some things are made to be just what they are. You can't improve on a trophy. You could, however, straighten out a trophy wife. I canceled our HGTV.