GROWING UP IN a small town that hit its stride in the ’80s, most of my friends lived in huge split-levels on the cul-de-sac side of town. Everything there seemed new and modern and way more exciting than the old neighborhood where my family’s oafish not-quite Victorian sat. I felt ashamed of our retrograde ways, so when it was finally my turn to get my bedroom redone, I picked a shade of lavender paint that would now turn my stomach and asked my dad to remove all the strange ornamental molding and replace it with something new.
Now I know better. Walking through what the people at SoDo’s Earthwise Building Salvage call “the Cathedral,” I cringe at the memory of my dad prying loose the beautiful woodwork and tossing it out the second-story window. In the middle of this high-ceilinged space, a sprawling collection of salvaged ornamental trim stands waiting to finish a room. To one side, there are rows of cabinets and immense pillars; in the back lie stacks of scrap board and piles of paneling. It’s an eco-friendly renovator’s wet dream: all this neat old stuff, which requires no new logging, mining, or manufacturing.
But there’s more to salvage chic than saving the planet?the stuff’s gotta be cool, too. Downstairs is a room full of vintage porcelain toilets and pedestal sinks ready to deck out a powder room. A pink set with chrome detailing goes for $225. Still further downstairs, claw-foot tubs, art deco light fixtures, ornate bar backs, and beautiful old doors crowd the floor. Here, a large kiosk holds tacked-up business cards from innovative contractors and photographs of what other Earthwise customers have done with their salvaged finds. If this place doesn’t inspire you, I can’t imagine what will.
Like Earthwise, Ballard’s The RE Store accepts donated wares?which customers then purchase. The staff also buys architectural artifacts and goes on demolition missions to collect the treasures that fill the store? all manner of reclaimed building supplies and renovation/redecoration materials clutter their shop. In the South End, Second Use’s mission is to reroute castoffs at a rock-bottom price, thus ensuring a steady stream of salvage moving in and out of its 20,000-square-foot warehouse.
More of a recycling boutique, Seattle Building Salvage specializes in pre-1940s fixtures, ornaments, and furnishings. Those looking to restore their prewar Wallingford bungalow or antiquate their ’80s Auburn tract house with milk-glass doorknobs or gorgeous stained-glass windows have plenty of options. And, as with most salvage shops, prices here are lower than at fancy antique stores.
BUT HOW GREEN can your home be without an equally enviro-friendly yard? Bedrock Industries is one of the most delightfully strange stores in town. In the last year alone, Bedrock found buyers for over 200 tons of would-be landfill. Surrounded by a chain-link fence, this “store” is actually an outdoor lot piled with several varieties of rock, stone, glass, and masonry. Build that relaxing Zen garden or landscape your backyard with its low-cost, recycled materials.
Maybe you, too, have an embarrassingly modern past, but now you’ve got no excuse not to make up for it. There’s more to salvage than shame- ful memories.
