I’m picky, so I’m told. But rather than getting defensive and asserting that everyone is picky about certain things—or at least they darn well should be—I’ll instead say that sometimes it’s essential to be particular. At times it’s out of our control. Take the time I was shopping for my entertainment armoire, for instance.
Let me tell you, to begin, the floor plan of my itsy-bitsy is anything but versatile, as there’s only one wall that can accommodate a sofa and one wall (quite conveniently the one opposite the sofa’s wall) that’s fit for locating a TV set not an entertainment armoire, I thought. There aren’t options, unless I’m willing to stick my Sony in front of the bifold closet doors, under the staircase, or right at the slider to the deck. I’m sure you’ve got the picture now!
To complicate matters, the designated television wall so happens to have a cut-out in it, a pass-through to the proportionally microscopic kitchen. There’s nothing I’d ever need to pass through there that wouldn’t be more easily and safely carried through the doorway, but it does make a nice perch for my prized espresso machine. Of course, its primary function is to create the illusion of openness, and it is for that reason a nice—if somewhat dated—architectural feature of this 1980s contemporary cottage. If there’s a downside it is that the pass-through placed a height restriction on entertainment armoire; as a stickler for aesthetics, I couldn’t let a piece of furniture stand higher than the shelf area of that opening.
Speaking of aesthetics, I just wouldn’t settle for veneer, either. I required solid wood—the real thing—at least for the TV armoire’s front and sides. At that rate, a plywood or similar back panel would not be a deal-breaker. Finally, the number-one thing I wanted from any entertainment armoire willing to live out its days in my less-than-vast living room: it had to hide the TV whenever the thing was off. Give me doors, please. As much as I love my electronic components at the right time, I don’t want to see them and their inevitable coating of dust all day long.
But that’s merely a preference, and although preferences are important (lest I have any regrets about what I settled for), a fit with the room is paramount. During my search I saw some lovely entertainment centers that exceeded the maximum workable height by two or three inches. While I’d have loved the overall look of any of these pieces, I know I’d never have gotten used to having one too large for the space.
Equally important, although the TV I had at the time was a smaller one, I knew it was on its way out. My plan was to upgrade to a 27-inch diagonal, so I had to make sure the entertainment cabinet I chose would accommodate that size television along with my satellite-TV receiver and VCR (yes—I still have it) as well as a DVD player in due time.
It took some time and some hunting, but I found what I was looking for, with not one desired feature missing. This armoire has folding doors (my very large dog always ends up lying in front of the TV, so pocket doors might not have had enough operating room), an adjustable shelf, and solid-wood construction with a lovely finish. I’m happy with it, and it does all that I need it to do.
Now that the search is done with, I can say that I enjoyed the process. It was almost as if I was courting an entertainment armoire looking at a lot of different ones, assessing their positive features, and having to turn down the ones that weren’t quite right—until the happy moment when I found one that from my point-of-view had it all.
