Fugly is as fugly does

I broke my fugly lamp.

This … thing … was sitting under a tree next to a huge pile of leaves when we moved into our house in December 2006. I think the previous owner had set it out there hoping that thieves or coyotes would carry it off, but no one would have it. It’s a big responsibility to bring that kind of ugliness into your home, and not everyone is up to the task.

Still, for some reason I stuck it in my shed rather than get rid of it. That sort of bulky grotesqueness has a burlesque attractiveness all its own, and over time I began to believe someone out there might not only want it but be willing to pay for it.

While moving it out of the way for the tenth time last week, I noticed the base was stamped FALKENSTEIN 1919. Hey, I thought, maybe I do have a find here. A quick Google search revealed that Claire Falkenstein was a lamp designer from the late 1950s to the 1970s, and collectors aren’t especially impressed with her work.

Finally this week I took it to an antique shop in Decatur that specializes in mid-20th century furniture and décor. The proprietor there acknowledged that she had never heard of Claire Falkenstein and agreed that the lamp was, indeed, very ugly, and no, she would not be interested, thank you and have a nice day.

On the way home I stopped at another antique shop for a second opinion. The woman there also had never heard of Claire Falkenstein, also agreed that the lamp was, indeed, very ugly, and oh, by the way, it’s broken.

“Broken?” said I. “How can you tell?”

“There’s a big hole in the globe -- there, on the other side,” she informed.

And, sharp-eyed appraiser of antiquities that she is, she was right. Big hole in the shimmery red globe. Brand-spankin’-new one.

“Well, there goes that eBay lottery hit,” I lamented. My fugly dream had gone aglimmering.

But hey, now I have a lot more room in my shed.