Filed under: Design, etc, News & Trends
Martha Camarillo, Contour by Getty Images
You probably know Elizabeth Gilbert as the woman who took that awesome trip around the world, wrote about it, suffered loss, found love and is now a household name. While all of this is true, there are indeed times when Liz enjoys being at home -- in New Jersey, with her husband José Nunes. Today the story of her bestselling memoir Eat, Pray, Love: One Woman's Search for Everything Across Italy, India and Indonesia (Viking Adult, 2006) arrives in movie theaters. Julia Roberts takes on the part of Liz and her romantic love interest, "Felipe", who is actually José, is played by Javier Bardem.
One pull that Liz and José have for New Jersey is their import business, which they started in 2007 from the ground up. (José was already working as an importer and knew the nuts and bolts of the business.) Called Two Buttons, the 2,200-square-foot warehouse in Frenchtown, NJ, displays their keen interest in world travel and exotic cultures as demonstrated through the furniture, art, jewelry, craft, antiques and more that they have picked up in South East Asia. Many tell stories about a country's culture, as they are gifts someone traditionally receives for a wedding or birth.
Silk scarves, Buddhas, hand-painted masks, Tibetan singing bowls, bracelets and necklaces carved from indigenous objects, rugs, pottery, furniture, paintings, you name it. It's the result of this couple's passion for trekking the globe -- and trying to understand each culture.
And all of their finds are for sale at the warehouse. Soon, an online marketplace will debut at TwoButtons.com.
Why the name Two Buttons? While in Laos a priest told them that they had so much love for life that they could be happy with just two buttons in their pockets.
We caught up with Liz last week and talked about what "home" means to her.
ShelterPop: How are some of the objects you've acquired while traveling displayed in your home?
Liz Gilbert: Let's see... We have a whole heap of stone buddhas in our garden (which is good for the lazy gardener -- ie: me -- because statues jazz things up and fill in holes, while also, of course, adding to a sense of serenity. We have a traditional Balinese bridal couple -- very old and carved of wood -- in our bedroom. (These wooden statues are meant to bring abundance to a marriage.) And I have a small stone "Boundary God" statue from Sulawesi Indonesia right here on my desk, next to my laptop, reminding me not to say "yes" to everything!
A display of scarves and a Shiva in Liz Gilbert's store. Photo: Two Buttons: Importer of the World's Wonders
Liz: There was a day when we were wandering around Bali and we spotted these two giant wooden, brightly colored statues of horses, right outside a rickety, old door of a hidden antiques shop. It turned out the horses were from the island of Lombok, and they are called "circumcision ponies." Young boys are carried through town on these horses when it's time for their circumcision ceremony, which usually happens around the age of six or seven. (One only hopes they don't also have to ride the horses home -- poor kids.) The objects were so beautiful, so odd, and the story was so fascinating that we had to buy them. (We have one in our house, too -- the cats like to sleep on it.)
SP: What are some tips you have for Shelterpop readers in how to incorporate "global" decor into a room? At times these pieces, while extremely beautiful and inspiring, might be a totally different style than what's in the rest of the room or the house.
Liz: I've never really believed in the "matchy-matchy" style of decoration. I think houses are so much more interesting and eclectic when you mix up all sorts of styles together. We have traditional Asian objects in our home, sitting right next to folksy American antiques that I inherited from my mom, and throw pillows from Target. Somehow it all works, because what those objects all have in common is that I love them. Each one has a story that helps to tell the story of my life, and each one is beautiful in a different way. And if you're going to be looking at something, touching something or using something every single day -- it should be beautiful, and it should be loved. What it doesn't have to be is expensive.
SP: How does running Two Buttons fuel your wanderlust and your love for travel?
Liz: Two Buttons has been such a perfect solution for me and my husband, for us to find a way that we can live together, build something sustainable together, and also travel together. Once or twice a year, we have to go out there in the world and discover a host of new wonders. I've also found that there's no better way to really understand a country than to try to do business there. There's something about banging out a deal with somebody -- with a fellow merchant -- that knocks aside all the surface politeness of the usual tourist relationship, and really gets you right down to the reality of another human being.
The other great thing is that Two Buttons challenges us to find new markets. We've really mastered how to shop in India, Thailand and Indonesia, but lately we've been saying that we need to go to Turkey or Morocco -- to find objects that are different than what we already have, to keep the store fresh and different, month by month. It's always a little scary to throw yourself into a new culture and try to solve the complexities of importing, but it keeps things interesting!
SP: If you could only take five things with you from your home, what would they be? (Just play along here ... whether it's forced relocation or voluntary downsizing!)
Liz: OK, setting aside husband, pets, important legal documents and family photos, if I were moving or downsizing, or even just rescuing things from the proverbial burning building, I would run around hastily grabbing art off the walls before I reached for anything else. And I know just what I would save, too -- two paintings by my friend (and local Frenchtown artist) Sandra Flood, a sculpture that my friend the artist Shea Hembrey made me for my birthday last year, a painting by my friend Kate Javens of a bird in flight, and a large collage of encaustic tiles by my friend Christine Chaney. Somehow I feel like everything else (furniture, clothing, rugs, even books) can be replaced -- but a piece of art is unique to the soul of the moment in which it was created, and must be guarded forever!