A few weeks ago I grabbed this handwoven vintage basket from a junky consignment shop that seemed more lunatic swap meet than viable retail store. Even though the basket was mostly hidden by a pile of fast food toys, the little visible bits of lumpy weaving and sweet triangle pattern had me sold as well as making plans to shove a large cactus inside it.
Well, eventually shove.
Neglect and certain death are about the only things a house plant can expect around here.
Despite that, I’m fairly committed to using a few chunky handwoven baskets as planters around the house and accept that many plants will be murdered in the process.
Otherwise, I’m very enthusiastic about Bowie and his bedroom eyes