Creating a Beautiful Table with What You Already Have

There is something I really love about setting a table.

I love the thought and care that goes into it. Sometimes I start with the dishes I want to use. Sometimes it’s a color I have in mind. Sometimes it’s the flowers. Then I just start putting things together and see where it takes me.

I’m learning that I don’t need a reason to do it.

In fact, I’m really enjoying having a pretty table sitting in my home even when we aren’t using it. Right now, I have a little tea tray on my dining table with Mum’s teapot and creamer, a teacup and saucer with flowers and birds that doesn’t match at all, and a small bud vase filled with fresh purple and lilac flowers. There’s a blue tray, white wooden candlesticks with chunky blue candles, a bit of lace tucked onto the corner, and a few other little things I’ve collected along the way.

Some are thrifted. Some came from Facebook Marketplace. Some are new. Some are treasured family pieces.

They don’t all match. 

And I love it.

Beautiful Doesn’t Have to Mean Matching

I think I’ve finally stopped worrying quite so much about whether everything goes together.

My tables probably do look fairly formal to some people. I like things to look nice. I like the little details. I enjoy layering dishes and putting food on different levels when I’m serving a buffet. But I’ve also promised Paul that I’m going to stop overthinking things when it comes to how everything looks.

It doesn’t have to be perfect.

Sometimes it matches and sometimes it doesn’t.

Sometimes I have a beautiful piece of china sitting right beside something I found at a thrift store. Sometimes something I’ve had for years ends up next to something brand new. And somehow, it all works because it tells a story.

I think that’s what I’m really after now—not a perfect table, but a table that feels like me.

The Pieces That Carry a Story

So much of what I use on my table has a story attached to it.

My mum’s china is one of the most meaningful examples.

She didn’t use her china very often. It was always on her hutch beside the dining table—a hutch my dad made. Just seeing those pieces brings so much back to me. It reminds me of her, of my dad, of the home they created, and of the things they both taught me about caring for people.

Make them welcome.

Invite them in.

Use your good things.

I get teary just writing that because it means so much to me. My mum is in my heart every day. Wearing a pair of her earrings or using her china makes me feel like I’m keeping a little piece of her close.

I don’t want those things simply tucked away in a cupboard where I can admire them but never enjoy them.

I want them to be part of my everyday life.

I feel much the same way about my aunt’s china, although the story is very different.

I’d been out of touch with my aunt for more than forty years. Being reunited with her has been such a gift. She is my dad’s sister, so knowing her again has brought me back to my family in a way that is difficult to put into words.

She lives in Nebraska, and I’ve been fortunate enough to visit her twice. We talk on the phone all the time about family and the things we love.

She knew she wanted me to have her china. Her china is full of beautiful golds and browns and looks completely different from my mum’s. And I love it.

I love that I can put my aunt’s china beside my mum’s and not worry that they don’t match. They don’t need to. They each carry a story. They each remind me of someone I love.

Different doesn’t mean it doesn’t belong together.

Sometimes different is exactly what makes it beautiful.

A Few Simple Things That Make a Table Beautiful

You don’t need a lot of things to make a table feel special. I’ve found that a few simple details can make all the difference.

Layer your table. Start with what you need and build from there. A plate, a napkin, a teacup and saucer may be all you need. If you’re serving food, add a pretty serving piece or a cake stand. You don’t have to use every piece you own.

Create a little height. I love putting food or flowers at different levels. A tiered stand, cake stand, candlesticks or even a small pedestal can make a table feel more interesting without adding a lot more to it.

Leave some breathing room. This one is still a work in progress for me! I have a tendency to keep adding things because I love them. But a table doesn’t need every inch filled. Sometimes a little empty space allows the things you really love to stand out.

Mix your patterns. This one is easy for me because I love mismatch. Mum’s china doesn’t have to sit only with Mum’s china. My aunt’s pieces can be beside something I’ve collected myself. A teacup with flowers and birds can sit on a plate that wasn’t made to go with it. Look for a color or feeling that connects the pieces and then let them be themselves.

Add something living. Fresh flowers have become one of my favorite little pleasures. I’m not a florist—not even close—but I’m having fun with them.

I usually buy grocery-store flowers, and they aren’t always in the budget. Sometimes I find an inexpensive or “on sale” bunch and bring it home. I divide it into smaller vases and spread the flowers around the house.

Every two or three days, I trim the bottoms of the stems and refresh the water. They seem to last quite a while this way.

I even have a little brass kettle that I use to water them.

I’m hopeless with plants, although somehow I’ve managed to keep four alive. Paul likes to remind me of my history with plants. He’ll say something along the lines of, “Here comes Debbie buying another plant or flowers to take them to their death.”

He’s probably not completely wrong. 

But I’m doing pretty well with the flowers. 

And I’m enjoying them.

I Don’t Save the Good China Anymore

For years, I saved things. My own china has barely been used. Maybe once or twice.

Beautiful glasses sat in cupboards. Tablecloths were tucked away. Cloth napkins, lace, chargers and pretty serving pieces were saved for the right occasion.

I didn’t want to ruin anything.

I didn’t want to chip it.

I didn’t want to break it.

And now I look at all those things sitting there gathering dust and think, Why did I wait so long?

I’m using the lot.

I’ve already chipped two of my everyday dishes, and I’m still using them. One of Mum’s creamers and coffee cups were chipped when I shared them. I gently sanded it and put it right back into use.

I’m not fretting about it.

Things get chipped.

Things get broken.

That’s part of using them.

And I’d much rather have a well-loved plate with a little story behind it than a perfect plate that spent its whole life sitting in a cupboard.

I think retirement has given me permission to see this differently. It has set me free a little. How much of life do I have left? I want to enjoy what I have now.

These aren’t just possessions. Some were gifts. Some remind me of people I love. Some bring back memories of where I bought them or who I was with. Some are simply things I thought were beautiful and wanted to bring home.

Those memories flood back when I use them.

And I am so happy.

I sometimes think my mum would be very proud of me now. I think she’d smile to see me using her china instead of keeping it tucked away.

No Rules Required

Just last night, I had an impromptu tea at my kitchen counter with a friend and her four-year-old daughter.

There was nothing planned or formal about it.

We got out mismatched teacups and saucers and some colored sugar cubes I’d made in little flower shapes. The little one picked the blue cup—Mum’s china—and her mum happened to choose the matching one.

I chose a teacup with flowers and birds.

I put some cookies on a little plate from my cupboard. The sugar stayed in its airtight container. Nothing fancy.

But it was tea.

Fancy teacups. Pretty sugar. Cookies. Milk.

And then the little girl decided she wanted to start with the milk. She proceeded to drink it straight from the creamer. I laughed.

No rules, right?

She let me know how good the milk was, and then she ate her Chips Ahoy cookie and drank her tea—which was now a rather interesting shade of green from the colored sugar.

She was perfectly content. They sat at the counter while I stood on the other side.

Nothing was perfect.

Nothing matched.

Nothing was planned.

And it was wonderful.

That’s the kind of table I want.

A table that looks beautiful, but doesn’t make anyone afraid to sit down.

A table where you can spill something.

A table where you can ask for more milk.

A table where a four-year-old can drink from the creamer.

A table where you can make yourself at home.

The Table Is Really About the People

That’s probably what I’ve come to understand most.

The table itself isn’t the important part.

It’s what happens around it.

I want people who come into my home to feel welcome. I want them to know that I put some thought and care into having them there because I care about them.

Yes, I want it to look beautiful. But I don’t want anyone to be afraid of using something.

Please spill.

Please break something if you need to. (Well, maybe not on purpose.)

Please have another drink.

Help yourself. 

Make yourself at home.

Those are the words I find myself saying when people come over.

And I mean them.

The beautiful things are here to be enjoyed.

The china is here to be used.

The flowers are here to be noticed.

The tea is here to be poured.

And the table is here for people to gather around.

Maybe an Ordinary Tuesday Is Special Enough

My younger self would have told me to save everything.

Don’t break it.

It’s expensive.

It’s meant to be displayed.

Wait for the right occasion.

Now I would tell that younger version of me something very different.

Use it.

Use the china.

Light the candle.

Put the flowers on the table.

Use the pretty glasses.

Bring out the lace.

Drink from the teacup.

Have the scones with clotted cream. Or butter, if you’re Paul.

And if someone wants milk in the creamer, let them drink from the creamer.

Life doesn’t need to be perfect to be beautiful. I’ve spent enough years thinking beautiful things were meant for someday.

I’m learning that an ordinary Tuesday deserves them too.

Bring This Into Your Home 

This week, I have a little challenge for you. Find one beautiful thing you’ve been saving.

Maybe it’s a teacup.

Maybe it’s your grandmother’s dishes.

Maybe it’s a pretty serving piece or a set of cloth napkins.

Maybe it’s something you bought years ago and have hardly ever used.

Take it out. Use it.

Don’t wait for company.

Don’t wait for a holiday.

Don’t wait for someday.

Put it on the table and enjoy it. Because the things we cherish are meant to be part of our lives—not simply stored away from them.

And perhaps, when you use that beautiful thing, you’ll find that the best part isn’t the thing at all.

It’s the memory that comes with it.

It’s the person you’re reminded of.

It’s the people sitting around your table.

It’s the feeling of being home.

And maybe that’s what a beautiful table really is.

Thank you for spending a little time around my table today. Today is a perfectly good day for tea.

Until next time…

Put the kettle on.

— Debbie’s Afternoon Tea