Five times furniture restoration made me wonder whether there's more going on than we realise

I've always known that furniture carries stories. Sometimes it's obvious - a date carved into a drawer, an old repair, a maker's mark hidden beneath the upholstery. Other times, it's a feeling... Something about a particular piece, or a particular moment, that makes you pause and wonder whether there's a little more going on than we realise. 

Over the past five years, I've had a handful of moments like that - moments that could absolutely be explained away as coincidence. And yet... I just can’t seem to forget them. 

So, in celebration of five years of refinishing furniture, here are five of my favourites. 

1. The butterfly and the benches 

Last year, I took on a project to restore two very sentimental benches for a lovely client. One had belonged to her father, and the other to her nana. They came up beautifully, and when they were finished, I brought them into the garden to photograph them. 

As I was photographing one of the benches, a butterfly flew across the garden and landed on it. It stayed there for a moment before flying off to a nearby tree, where it seemed to sit and watch me finish the photoshoot. It looked like it was admiring the newly refinished benches. 

A few hours after I’d delivered the benches to her husband, my client sent me some of the sweetest feedback I've ever received, and it was then that I told her about the butterfly. 

We can’t know whether it meant anything, but knowing the story behind those two benches, and seeing that single butterfly arrive at exactly that moment, felt like a really beautiful thing. 

2. The chapel chairs that saved the Victorian doors 

Earlier this year, I collected a set of chapel chairs from a client and stacked them in my workshop, where they sat for a few days waiting for me to have an afternoon free to start sanding them. This was unusual for me - I don't tend to leave furniture sitting around for days before getting started, but that week was particularly busy and the chairs had to wait. 

Also in the workshop were all of our original Victorian internal doors. We'd had them stripped for our house renovation and were waiting to put them back on their frames. 

Then, one day, I noticed water droplets along the chapel chairs which hadn't been there before. That was when I realised there was damp getting into the workshop. We immediately went to check the Victorian doors - and they were damp, mouldy and very unhappy indeed. 

Thankfully, we'd caught them just in time. We treated the mould, moved them somewhere much drier and were able to save them before the damage became serious. 

But I've often wondered what would have happened if those chapel chairs hadn't been sitting there. If I'd started them immediately, as I normally would have, I might never have noticed the water. If they'd been somewhere else in the workshop, perhaps I wouldn't have seen the droplets. And if I hadn't noticed them when I did, our original Victorian doors could have been damaged beyond repair. 

3. The 1947 chest of drawers 

This is probably my favourite story of all. 

I acquired a 1947 chest of drawers from a client who was emptying a storage unit full of his late mother's furniture. It was a beautiful old piece with walnut veneer, and I set about restoring it and bringing it back to life. When it was finished, I was really happy with it. 

Around that same time, I'd connected with a very new friend (we'd only known each other for a week or so). In conversation, I sent him a photo of the chest of drawers, not knowing that he was just as passionate about vintage furniture as I was. He fell in love with it. He came round to see it in person, admired it some more, and told me he wanted to buy it. 

Three years later, we're married. 

We're now renovating our home together, and that little 1947 chest of drawers - the piece of furniture that first really connected us - is waiting to find its perfect place in our home. 

Of all the strange coincidences I've encountered through furniture restoration, I think this one might be my favourite. I mean... I restored a chest of drawers and accidentally found a husband. Not bad for a day's work! 

4. The tansu and the stories inside 

My husband, Ty, loves vintage furniture and has a particular fondness for Japanese culture, having lived in Japan for a while. 

So when I came across a small vintage tansu - a traditional Japanese chest - being sold by one of my neighbours, I knew exactly what I wanted to do with it. I brought it home with the intention of restoring it and giving it to Ty for his birthday. My neighbour had owned it for many years, perhaps even decades, but couldn't remember where she'd originally got it from. 

As I began taking the drawers out to start the restoration, something fell from behind one of them. It was a Japanese postcard, dated 1960, and a photograph of a young man, which I had dated to 1950–1960. I had the postcard translated and, when I gave the tansu to my husband, I gave him those little pieces of its history too. 

I felt strangely connected to the people who had once owned it. Despite six decades and an ocean between us, I was given a glimpse into their lives, hidden inside the furniture all along. I asked my neighbour about it afterwards - she had no idea the postcard and photograph were there. They had been hidden behind that drawer for the entire time she'd owned the tansu. 

I felt that I was meant to find them, to know the tansu’s history, which is now a proud piece in our home. 

5. The feeling that started it all 

People often ask me how I started restoring furniture. Did I study it? Was my father a woodworker? The answer is simple, and yet... not at all simple 😅. 

My background is in marketing. When I was 25, I was made redundant just after Covid, and felt it was time for me to find something I was truly passionate about. For years, I'd noticed discarded furniture on the roadside, and I'd feel sad seeing it there, and think: How hard could it be to clean it up, paint it, and give it a new life? 

Working 40+ hours a week had never left me enough time to find out... Until I was made redundant. At the time, I was living with my dad until I got back on my feet. I remember going downstairs one day and nervously telling him: “So... I want to try painting furniture. I just want to see if it's something I'm good at. And if it's not, I'll go back to job hunting.” He gave me an approving nod, so off I went to buy my first supplies and my first piece of furniture. 

That first piece sold in five days. The next sold in three. 

And five years later, that little “I just want to see...” has grown into a furniture restoration business that has saved more than 300 pieces from landfill, I’ve worked with over 180 wonderful clients, won a business award and two further recognitions, and been taken places I could never have imagined when I nervously told my dad that I wanted to “try painting furniture”. 

All because of a feeling. A feeling that this was something I could do. 

So... was it all coincidence? 

Maybe. Maybe the butterfly was simply passing through the garden. Maybe the chapel chairs just happened to reveal a damp problem at exactly the right time. Maybe my future husband and I would have connected through something else, if not the 1947 chest of drawers. Maybe someone else would eventually have found that postcard and photograph hidden inside the tansu. And maybe losing my job during Covid was simply a fortunate coincidence that happened to push me in a new direction. 

Maybe intuition is simply our brains noticing things before we're consciously aware of them. Maybe objects really do carry something of the people who've loved them. Or maybe, sometimes life just likes to leave us with a little mystery... And isn’t that exciting?!