Sunday, 13 July 2014

Tori | shelfie envy?


Flicking through this week's Sunday Times Style magazine, Francesca Hornak's article on the 'competitive world of the shelfie' caught my eye, or should I say the photos of bookshelves caught my eye. I've said it before (here): I'm a sucker for a pretty edition or a beautiful bookcase. The bigger and more organised the case, the better. I can trace my shelf obsession to infancy: my mother's love of books and her organisational prowess, saw my childhood played out against a backdrop of meticulously arranged bookshelves.

Years on and I can't resist reshuffling books. I pay particular attention to height order, genre and spine design. Hardbacks and paperbacks may be mixed but only if complimentary cover art/ theme/ style permits. I'm certainly not obsessive. I've never tweeted a shelfie (*yet*) nor did it pain me when, during my university years, books piled up on the floor; they were functional, work horses so to speak. Yet, I find it hard to part with books, I'm a hoarder. No less than forty of the boxes transported during my last house move, contained nothing but books. Unfortunately, I have no shelving whatsoever to display them on here. They're still in their boxes in the spare room. Displaced yet not forgotten.

The house doesn't feel like home without a book shelf or twelve. I feel like I'm living in a hotel. It's too bare. I've bitten the skin on the side of my fingers, I spend far too much time pacing the aisles in book shops and my eyes are square from all the '#shelfie porn' I've been consuming. I may have a *slight* problem. I would remedy the situation however I can't afford bookcases, and I'm now thoroughly intimidated- my bookcases never looked like this. Oh bother.


I'm off to console myself with some indulgent Sunday night reading.


All content copyright Tori at Jute, Jam and Joy, 2014.

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