Over the past couple of years, something shocking happened: My adult children got their own apartments.
I set aside a little cash to buy them each a new bedframe, mattress and sofa. Then we sorted through all the random castoff furniture in my garage and ephemera household items in the back of my cabinets to create a starter kit.
Then, we started thrifting.
The result is that they both have living spaces deemed “too nice for college kids” by their friends’ parents. My own father sees pictures on Instagram and thinks I have spoiled them. But the truth is, we furnished entirely for less than most people spend on a single piece of furniture from Pottery Barn.
Because now we are in our empty-nester era, last year my husband and I sold the big house in which we raised those fully fledged adults and moved to a lovely newer home that fits us better — think fewer stairs, a view, a pool and a built-in nugget ice machine. We moved some things, but we ditched a lot that was worn out from 20 years of family life. Now, using what I learned from my kids’ projects, I am furnishing our new house with thrifted finds of a more upscale variety.
Here’s what I have learned about how to get the best stuff on Facebook Marketplace:
Know thyself
FB Marketplace is full of treasures from every era — and a lot of junk. It’s very easy to get distracted because you just want something and you’ll “like” a lot of things. I know this because mistakes have definitely been made. It helps to have a plan.
You need a general vibe or “mood board,” and some sense of the scale. The trick is to be open-minded enough that you can spot something that will work, but still have guardrails. Are you going for light or dark? Spanish vibes or mid-century? Do you need storage or just a surface? You have to know what you are looking for before you can look.
A few guidelines:
- Know the dimensions of the space you’re trying to furnish, so you’ll know if that buffet will block your shutters or the cabinet is too narrow for the feet of the massive TV you bought on Black Friday.
- Set a range of how far you are willing to drive or pay a mover.
- Know the cost in elbow grease: How much time and energy do you really want to spend to refinish, clean or reupholster?
- Have a budget that factors in the real price of your “free” and thrifted treasures (movers, refinishing, etc.)
Ask your friends for second opinions (but not the ones who are enablers). Sometimes another eye will spot things about an item you didn’t notice.
Let your algorithms know thy self, too
Sure, you could furnish your house with vintage the old-fashioned way, by going to antique and thrift stores or flea markets. But the internet opens up whole new possibilities.
The advantages: You have access to items coming from “real people” without the middleman. What most of the sellers on Facebook Marketplace are doing is clearing their (or their parents’) clutter. Some of them have beautiful, heirloom-quality furniture from high-end manufacturers and craftsmen that have been put out of business over time by mass-produced fast-fashion furniture. This stuff would cost a lot at an antique store, but this guy online just needs to get it out of his garage.
You live in Southern California. We have a lot of people and a lot of good stuff here. If you’re willing to drive, you have so many options.
And the best part is that the more you look, the more good stuff you find, because you are training the algorithms to think like you, just by looking. It’s using the same creepy internet magic that serves you up a recipe just when you were about to make brownies.
Here’s how to work the system:
- Spend some time learning what you like. Google furniture companies, look up the difference between oak and mahogany. Follow designers you like on Instagram.
- Let the algorithm do the work for you. “Save” what you like, even if you’re not going to buy it. You’re training the algorithm.
- Search for different phrases, not just the official one. Cabinet? Credenza? Sideboard? Buffet? Console? The guy cleaning out his garage might not call it the same thing you would, so start broad.
- AI can help you figure out the search terms. Show it a picture or a listing and ask it what other search queries to use.
- Upload a picture of an item you like to other platforms such as Pinterest, and it will show you similar items. From there, you can learn what the thing was called so you can refine your search.
- Check frequently. People list things all day, every day, and the quicker you make contact, the better, because, again, the seller just wants to clean out his garage as quickly as possible.
Communicate
You have to deal with people who are not used to dealing in fine furniture. They will post a picture of a cabinet with dirty socks on it. They will forget to post dimensions or they’ll use dimensions that make no sense.
You have to look past all that at the bones of the piece, and use your words to ask questions.
Some of my best purchases have been on funky listings no one else bothered to engage with because the photos were so bad. I bought a bookcase that was listed as “Bookcase plus treasures” that was shown with so much junk you could barely see the bookcase. I asked if I could get the bookcase without the treasures for half the price, and the seller jumped at it so fast he delivered it to me the night before Christmas Eve in the rain.
Some good questions:
- What are the dimensions — width, depth and height?
- Is it wood or veneer? (You might have to explain the difference, but this is important if you have any visions of refinishing a piece.)
- Are there any maker stamps they could send a picture of?
- Can someone help load it?
- What are the payment options? (Do they want cash? Is Zelle or Venmo OK?)
Transportation
This hobby would be easier with a truck, but alas, I have a mom car that has back seats that can lay flat. I can get a lot of stuff in there, but there are limitations.
One of the first things we bought for the new house was a dark,1970s-era Spanish-revival credenza to hide all the office supplies. It is 6 feet long. I measured the back of my car repeatedly until I was convinced the credenza would fit. We got to the house to pick it up where it took three men to angle it in there so the hatchback barely closed: Victory. But we had to push the front seats all the way forward to do it, which meant there was no room for my husband. Rather than strand him there, I talked him into curling up next to the cabinet in the back. My husband is not a tiny man and it wasn’t the best day of our marriage. When a few months later I drove Ortega Highway to Palm Desert to pick up the buffet of my dreams, I went solo. I got a date shake for the ride home, with one corner of the buffet riding shotgun.
With that cautionary tale in mind, here are things to consider:
- Contact antique stores or consignment shops for mover contacts. Depending on distance, I have found this is generally cheaper than trying to rent a U-Haul — with the added benefit that I don’t have to lift anything.
- IKEA didn’t invent furniture that can come apart. Our 100-year-old walnut bookshelf (delivered in the rain) broke down into 12 pieces that were fairly easy to put back together. Most armoires have removable tops. China cabinets are usually two pieces.
- Can you actually lift it? Do you need a friend to tag along? Will the seller help you?
Prepare yourself for heartbreak
The fates of FB Marketplace are fickle, but if you can keep yourself from spinning out long enough, the right thing will come along.
I found the most beautiful mahogany china cabinet with a bowed hexagon glass front. It had drawers lined for silver. It had pull-out boards where I could set down pieces from the cabinet. It had no goofy finials on top. I sketched out which shelf would hold my mother-in-law’s tureens. I imagined living my life like Katharine Hepburn in “The Philadelphia Story.” I messaged the seller, who gave me his phone number and said he needed the furniture out of his late mother’s house ASAP because it was in escrow. Within 20 minutes I arranged a mover, and we just had to set a time for it to be picked up. Then the seller ghosted me. I texted him over the next week to no avail.
When I tell you I grieved over this cabinet that I had never even seen in person, you have no idea. Every china cabinet paled by comparison. I used its image to search the internet for high-end antique dealers who might have something similar for tens of thousands of dollars. I was completely irrational and inconsolable.
But then.
Months later, I saw a “library cabinet” made of walnut with massive glass doors that lock with a skeleton key. It was sitting in a storage unit in Solana Beach. I called the same mover and arranged to meet a lovely family at the unit to wait for the mover and got the whole story about how Great Grandma Esther brought this cabinet over from Sweden sometime in the early 1900s. They showed me where it had been restored. They, like me, were avid readers and had collected books from around the world, but no longer had room. I was entrusted with an heirloom piece.
When we said goodbye, there were hugs, which in hindsight is an awkward little way to end a business transaction with random people I met on the internet, but it felt right at the time.
Now, the cabinet is the focal point of the room, and my husband can’t stop staring at it, claiming it is my single greatest purchase of all time.
And you can’t get that for $400 at Pottery Barn.