The Old French Door Shop has more than just doors. It has shutters, windows, kitchen sinks, iron railings, terra cotta tiles, and stones. When we built our fountain in our garden we used stones that we bought from the Old French Door Shop.
It is a haven of old patine, rusty hinges and a place that shows you that plastic shutters are taken over France.
The above photo is of interior shutters, French homes use to have shutters on both sides of their windows.
Yesterday French Husband and I went to this shop to see if we could find a pair or small French doors or shutters to build a cupboard in the bathroom. I first thought to have a dresser, but soon realized that only a couple of toothbrushes, a wash cloth, a razor and maybe a few rolls of toilet paper would fit in it. French Husband and children soon convinced me that my lack of storage space was unrealistic, and that they were going to change my first name to: Impractical.
That bugged me.
We went shopping for doors. Our measurements were four feet by six feet (or smaller.)
As I weaved in and out of the narrow alley ways admiring peeling paint, and the varied styles of French doors and shutters, my mind imagined houses and different possibilities I could create with the surplus at hand. Most of my ideas would never work for our house. My second name might be Impractical, but my first name is Imaginative.
French Husband on the other hand talked and talked and talked to the dealer. They chatted about everything under the sun. You might say they became best friends over door jams and window panes.
Still talking and not about doors. French have a love affair with politics and wine. Talk on and on they did as I wandered around dreaming up floor plans and kitchens and new ways to use these doors... wainscoting!
Who needs Chanel, or Fifth Avenue, or Tiffany's diamonds... this kind of glamor; old, peeling, rough stuff is what gets my heart a pumping. I dig it don't you?
I am still dreaming of the possibilities.