I'm pretty sure my love language is Giving Gifts. Yes, yes. All of us who've read the book realize it's actually Receiving Gifts. But I'm left handed and do many, many things backward. This is not to say I don't love to receive gifts, this is simply to say that I love giving gifts about one thousand times more. I especially love giving unexpected, where-did-you-find-this (in a good way) gifts. And right now my very favorite place to find such things is Wojo Works.
Each time I walk into this uncluttered space I sigh and swoon and thank goodness that such a cool shop belongs to our city. Every time I scan the shelves I find something that wasn't there on my last visit. Witty-with-a-touch-of-crass greeting cards. Candles and soaps that smell like heaven — For reals: If I make it past the pearly gates, the air will smell like Sweet Petula's La Nuit Shea Butter Soap. Alarm clocks that I swear somebody swiped off Betty Draper's bedside table (back in the day when she was still shagging good ol' Don). And a bentwood rocker that makes me want to get a third job, just so I can afford to make it mine.
But until then, I'll continue popping into this haven of modern accoutrements to buy things that I can afford. Like the lovely pitcher in the picture, which I'm quite certain is the color of sunshine, no matter what the geniuses at Pantone choose to call it. As soon as I saw it, I knew it was supposed to live with the girl who's been my friend longer than anyone else on the planet. Yes, yes. She deserves so much more for putting up with my ridiculousness for all these (can it really be 25???) years. But until I can buy us both a rocker, this will have to do.
You'll find Wojo Works at 824 W. Sprague, downtown, across the street from the Davenport.