The Addict Has a Setback
I've been coveting a set of four framed botanical prints from Anthropologie, but they're $392 plus $30 for shipping. I can think of about 422 other ways I could spend that $422.
I am a strange combination of spendthrift-shopaholic and cheapskate. When it seems I could find a cheaper way to get something, you bet your sweet bonnet I'm gonna do it.
So I decided to search eBay for botanical prints. Maybe, I thought, I could even find authentic Victorian-era prints. Turns out there are about 1 million and one botanical prints available on eBay, most of them quite reasonably priced. They're mostly lithographs out of vintage books, which is good enough for me.
I ended up choosing six from eBay seller Andrea's Garden. They're by Pierre Redoute, who - according to Andrea - was known as the "Raphael of Flowers" in the early 19th century and was court painter and preceptor in four French regimes. Okay, so that's not Victorian, but I don't care. Botanical prints were popular then, and an anatomical drawing of a plant looks pretty much the same no matter when it was done.
I received the prints yesterday. They were very well packaged to keep them from getting bent, and I had to take a few deep breaths to keep my trembling fingers from tearing the packaging to shreds to get to my prints.
It was worth the wait because these are some GORGEOUS prints.
This probably won't be the final frame, but I wanted to see what they looked like framed:
That's Fritillaria, a plant I've never heard of. I also bought Oleander, Galardia, Primevere, Anemone and Peony (that last one is in homage to the Peony I planted this spring but managed to kill).
I may hang three of them in our bedroom and three in the dining room. Or I may buy more and drown my whole house in botanical prints.
Why is it that when I break down and buy something from eBay, it renews my obsession and I start buying everything in sight? This week, I've bought three 1890s vegetable can labels and two fruit crate labels to frame for kitchen artwork. I'm also buying up turn-of-the-century photographs. Eeeeeek, HELP ME!